Without Me (13 page)

“
W
hat are
you so damn happy about?” Mike asked from across the table as I stole a glance at my cell phone.

“I’m not happy. I’m always like this.”

I knew that it was bullshit. I usually was a cranky fucker. Typically, I had a headache or not enough sleep and my siblings would make me crazy. At the shop, I could busy myself with something to keep my mind occupied, but sitting at my parents’ made it impossible to ignore them.

Max had softened since she’d told me about her illness, and things were smoother. She hadn’t thrown me out, either. We talked whenever we had a chance and texted throughout the day. We took turns sleeping at the other’s house at least every couple of days. When Sunday had finally arrived, I’d begged her to come to my family’s house for dinner, but she’d said that she couldn’t make it.

“You’re happy. You keep smiling every time you look in your lap. Find something down there finally?”

“Shut up, Mikey.” I glared at him, but I didn’t feel the anger behind the look. Things were too good right now to be pissed off about anything.

“Get the shit straightened out with the girl?” Thomas asked as he grabbed a piece of garlic bread.

“I think so,” I replied, hoping that everyone had been too busy eating to hear what he’d asked.

“A girl?” Ma asked as she stopped eating.

There went the hope that no one had heard. Ma had girlfriend radar, with her overeagerness to be a grandmother many times over. Thanks to Thomas, I was now on it after having remained free and clear for years.

Even though I wanted to lie to Ma, I couldn’t. Plus, she’d see through any fib I told. “Yeah,” I answered as I placed a forkful of eggplant parmigiana in my mouth. As I chewed, I saw everyone looking at each other before their eyes fell on me. “What?” I asked with a garbled voice.

My mother corrected her previous question. “As in a girlfriend?”

There was no reason to hold back. Soon, I wanted to bring her to dinner, and it would be better if the shit hit the proverbial fan now instead of in front of her.

I sipped my water, washing down the food in my mouth and making them wait for my answer. They stared at me as they patiently waited for my reply.

“Yes, she’s my girlfriend.”

“So, you’re not gay?” Ma asked as her mouth hung open and the entire table erupted into laughter.

“What?” I replied.

Honestly, I could see her point. I was the only one in the family who’d never had a significant other, and I sure as hell never talked in front of my parents about any of the women I banged.

“I mean, it’s okay if you are, sweetie. I’ll still love you. Don’t be ashamed of who you are,” Ma said as she gave me a very serious look. It was the type of look she’d used when we had been kids and tried to lie. She’d lull us into a sense of security to get us to confess.

“Ma, I am not gay.” I shook my head, feeling my face turn red.

“If you say so, honey.” Ma smiled at me and the laughter grew louder.

“I’m happy everyone is getting a kick out of this,” I said as I stabbed at my eggplant.

Ma wiped her lips, laying the napkin back in her lap before she looked at me. “Anthony, you’re the only one who hasn’t brought someone home. As the oldest, I thought you’d be married with children by now. Hell, I’ve never, ever heard you talk about a girl.”

“Listen, just because I don’t kiss and tell doesn’t mean I haven’t had women.”

“Lord has he,” Izzy interjected before starting to laugh again.

“Izzy,” I said, shooting a “shut the fuck up” glare in her direction. “Ma, I’ve just never met anyone who was worthy of meeting the family.”

“That’s silly,” Ma replied as she started to play with the food on her plate.

“I’m not gay, I’ve had women, and I have a girlfriend. Are we clear? I just want to make sure everyone has their details correct.”

“Bro, chill out,” Joe said.

“I am, Joe. Cool as a cucumber.” I placed a forkful of food in my mouth because I knew another question was coming. Nothing in this family was quick or easy.

“Same girl you mentioned before?” Izzy asked as she drew her lips into her mouth, trying to stop her laughter.

I nodded, unable to talk with so much food in my mouth.

“Things change since the last time we talked?” Thomas asked as he stared at me.

Between bites, I said, “Yeah.”

“Tell us about her, Anthony. Stop holding out on me,” Ma demanded.

“For you, Ma, anything. I met her a while ago, but we were just friends.”

“With benefits,” Mike mumbled.

I scowled at him before I began to speak again. “It took us a while to get on the same page. She wasn’t too keen on the idea of dating. I’m hoping to bring her with me next weekend.”

“Thank would be lovely, Anthony. Who is she?” Ma asked as she set her fork down, giving me her full attention.

“I’m sure there are better things to talk about. I can tell you later, Ma.”

“No.” Izzy shook her head and waved her hand over the table. “We all want to hear this, Mr. I Hate Everything About Relationships. Do tell.”

I mouthed the word “traitor” at Izzy before turning my attention to Ma. “Her name is Maxine, but I call her Max. She’s a stylist or something like that. Has a little shop down in Tampa.”

“I love her already,” Izzy said, tilting her head.

“She’s black,” I blurted out like it mattered, even though I knew it didn’t.

“And?” Pop asked nonchalantly as if I’d divulged a secret that weren’t so secret or important.

“Just throwing it out there,” I replied as I sucked in air. I had known they wouldn’t give a shit, but I wanted the information out there from the get-go.

“I don’t care if she’s blue,” Ma said. “Tell me more about her. Why haven’t you brought her over sooner?”

“Did you think we’d care about the color of her skin, son?” Pop asked with a raised eyebrow.

Where should I even begin in my explanation?
“No, no. I knew you wouldn’t care. It’s complicated,” I replied, because it was the truth.

Ma crossed her arms and tilted her head as her eyes bored into me. “All relationships are. Who at this table had an easy relationship?”

“Joe and Suzy,” I offered, because they’d had that insta-love thing.

“Hell no,” Joe interrupted.

“Anthony,” Suzy said as she stopped eating for a moment. She must’ve had something important to say, because Suzy hadn’t stopped eating since she’d become pregnant. “Your brother and I didn’t have an easy love. Mostly because I was an idiot. But it wasn’t easy. He was just persistent.” She giggled, glancing at Joe and winking.

I slouched back in my chair, trying to remember what happened back then. It felt like ages ago, even though not even a couple of years had passed.

“I guess,” I said as I shrugged.

“I’m still waiting to hear why you haven’t brought her here for dinner,” Ma said.

“We weren’t dating a couple of weeks ago. She didn’t want a boyfriend and she sure as hell didn’t want me.”

“Ah, another one like you,” Mike mumbled.

“Yes, another one like me, but for different reasons. I just didn’t want to be led by the balls like everyone at the table.” I laughed, slapping the table. No one else was laughing with me. “You know what I mean,” I added, feeling a little embarrassed.

“So now your balls are in the hands of another,” Izzy said with a satisfied look on her face.

“Yes.” I sighed, knowing I’d succumbed and become one of the sappy fuckers who’d do anything for the woman they loved.

“Why wouldn’t she want to date you? You’re such a handsome man with a kind heart,” Ma said as she frowned.

“Ma, I’m not. I mean, I am a handsome devil, but kind? Most women would never use that word to describe me.” I smiled at her. “Max had reasons to not want to be in a relationship. Plus, she said I was an asshole.”

“Oh, I really like her,” Izzy muttered with the fork of pasta resting on her lips.

“She called you that?” Ma asked.

I nodded but kept the smile plastered to my face. “I am, though. I mean, I was. I have a reputation that follows me.”

I wasn’t ashamed of it. It cut down on the bullshit. I didn’t have to go into a long spiel about not wanting a relationship. Women knew and I never promised more.

“I thought I raised you better than that,” Ma added with a tone of judgment.

“Ma, I didn’t treat the women badly. I gave them what they wanted and took what I needed. I never promised more.”

“Dirty bird,” Pop chimed in, with a small laugh.

Ma glanced at him and shot him a warning glance. “Sal.”

“What? There’s no reason for the boy to be tied down, Mar.”

Ma ignored him and turned her attention back to me. “Why didn’t Max want to be in a relationship? Is she like your sister?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Izzy asked as she dropped her fork onto her plate with a loud clatter.

“You know.” Ma grinned as she looked over at Izzy. “Difficult.”

“I’m not difficult,” Izzy said before her mouth hung open.

James laughed first, followed by everyone else at the table.

“I just didn’t want to be tied down and I still don’t, but James has made it hard to say no,” she grumbled.

“Izzy, we don’t want to hear about your sex life,” Suzy teased.

Izzy’s face turned red as she closed her eyes and dragged in a breath. “Shut it, Suzy. Less talking, more eating.”

“She has her own reasons, Ma,” I said.

“You’re being cagey, son,” Pop interjected. My old man never said much, but when he did, it was usually to call one of us out on our bullshit.

“Pop, she has some personal issues that stopped her.” I rubbed my face and debated telling the family about her illness.

“Ex-husband?” Mia asked, finally entering the conversation.

“No. Health issues,” I blurted out.

I knew it was going to turn into twenty questions and I’d eventually tell them just to shut them up. My family was notorious for their nosiness. I figured I didn’t need to hold out.

“Oh no. What’s wrong?” Mia asked as her doctor side kicked in.

I glanced down at my mother as she pitched forward, listening intently.

“Her father was sick, but he’s now passed. It’s a genetic condition called ataxia. So the short story is that she didn’t want a relationship because she didn’t want to burden someone in the future.”

Mia stared at me for a moment with her eyebrows kitted together. “Wow. That’s a rare condition, Anthony.”

“You know about it?” I asked, hoping she could shine some light on the topic.

“Yeah, a little bit. I know the basic neurology, but it’s so rare that not much is learned about it unless you study neurology as your specialty.”

“Tell us about it,” Ma said to Mia, ignoring her food.

I’d spent some time over the last week researching ataxia online. I spent hours on the
Ataxia.org
website reading about the condition and the stories of people affected.

Mia stated the same information I’d found on the website, but explained it in more detail. She said that, often, people appear to be drunk when they aren’t, presenting the same symptoms of unbalanced walking and slurred speech.

“Is there a treatment?” Ma asked behind her hand.

Halfway through Mia’s explanation, my mother had covered her mouth to hide her emotion. Even though she didn’t know Max, her heart was breaking. It was probably out of sadness for me, but she had a tender heart. Once she met Max, she’d be shattered.

Mia shook her head and frowned. “No, Ma. There isn’t. No treatment and no cure.”

“What the fuck?” Mike asked before he sighed. “With all the advances in medicine, there’s still nothing, baby?”

“No. It’s so rare that little money is spent on funding the research. There is a research clinic at USF in Tampa that has done some amazing work. But no breakthroughs yet.”

“So, it’s genetic?” Pop asked. Even though he looked impartial, I knew he fed off my mother’s emotion.

My parents were major donors at Mia’s clinic. They’d always loved to help the community, especially when it pertained to health.

“It can be. Not all types of ataxia are genetic. Even when it is, the person only has a fifty percent chance of having the defective gene,” Mia answered, giving me a weak smile. “Has she been tested?”

I chewed the inside of my mouth. “I honestly don’t know, Mia.” I tried to recall our conversations about ataxia and if she’d said that she had been or not, but I was drawing a blank.

“If she hasn’t, she needs to be. There’s a fifty percent chance she doesn’t have the gene that causes ataxia.”

“Well, shit,” I whispered as I grabbed my phone.

“Does it only affect adults?” Joe asked.

Mia continued to answer questions about the condition as I texted Max, needing to find out if she’d been tested.

Me: Hey!

Max: Hey yourself.

Me: Question for you.

Max: Shoot.

Me: Have you been tested to see if you have the gene?

I tapped my foot, feeling nervous as I waited for her answer. I tried to focus on Mia as she spoke, but my attention kept reverting to my phone. She didn’t answer immediately, and the waiting was killing me.

Finally, she replied.

Max: No.

At that point, I stared at the phone, totally confused. With the way she’d had her fate figured out and she was all doom and gloom, I would’ve bet money on the fact that she had been tested.

Me: Why not? Maybe you don’t have it.

Max: I know it’s in me.

I sat there dumbfounded and confused as hell. Mia had said that a person only had a fifty percent chance of carrying it. At the track or in Vegas, those aren’t great odds, but when dealing with sickness, there was a decent chance she didn’t have it.

Me: You need to be tested, Max.

Max: I don’t need to spend $5000 on a genetic test when I already know the answer.

I stared at my phone and wanted to rip my hair out. I held my head in my hand and rubbed my forehead. Her thinking was off. There was no price tag that could be placed on knowledge. It was a steep price to pay, but I’d gladly fork over the money for peace of mind. If I were in her shoes, I’d sell everything I owned to find out the truth.