Chapter 5

The time leading up to the concert was busy, as I had chores to do, sick children to care for, and worst of all, final exams to take. All my time was spent working or studying, and I spent the entire weekend sitting in the library diligently preparing for the exams.

Piero texted and called me often, and he didn't pry for information about my mom's boyfriend. He asked me to go out and eat with him, walk on the beach with him, or go and visit him. I declined every time, telling him that I must study if I wanted to become a real nurse.

It was a tremendously stressful time, filled with late nights of studying and fretting over grades, and I was relieved when exams finally ended.

The awaited Friday of the concert finally arrived, and Piero said that he would love to drive my mother and me to and from the theatre. He promised that he and the boys would finish their preparations before he came to pick us up, but we'd still have to get there early. I was exited to see the theatre empty, and my mother and I agreed.

When the evening arrived I dressed in an elegant white gown my mother chose for me and gold sandals, as I didn't want to be in heels all night. I left my hair alone, leaving the brown waves to fall prettily about my shoulders, and I put on bronze eye shadow to contrast my blue eyes. I put on soft pink lipstick and went into the kitchen to find that my mother was not ready to go.

"Mama? Piero will be here soon. You need to get ready."

She came to me and hugged me.

"I'm sorry, honey. I'm not going. Ray doesn't want me to go."

My disappointment rapidly changed to frustration. I struggled to be patient with her.

"So that's it?" I asked softly. "He doesn't want you to leave, so you'll stay?"

She nodded.

"He wants me to be with him."

"You don't need to do everything he tells you to do."

"No, but…I should stay if he wants me to."

I tried to remain expressionless, but my eyes filled with silent tears and I turned my face away, looking out at the empty street. "Are you upset?" she asked.

I nodded slightly, and she turned my face tenderly toward hers.

"I just wanted to go with you to the concert."

My mother looked sadly at me, studying my face.

"Aw, let her be upset," came Ray's voice from the doorway. "She's too naive to understand how to be submissive to her stepfather."

I turned.

"You are not my stepfather!" I said indignantly.

"Then what am I? I'm your mother's partner, aren't I? Unmarried, sure, but marriage is a bad idea anyway."

I held my tongue, but swiped at my eyes and glared at him.

He moved closer to me, a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

"Go on, what are you thinking?"

I averted my eyes.

"Go on, say it."

"I'm thinking that I don't want you to live here."

Immediately I knew it was a mistake and bit my tongue hard, upset at my own loss of patience.

"Julia!" my mom cried in surprise, and Ray slammed the bottle down on the table and grabbed my arms, spinning me around and pushing me against the wall.

"Let go!" I cried, and my mother weakly echoed my plea.

I struggled, pushing at him, and he cursed at me.

"You are so disobedient! Stupid girl! If you would only learn to listen and obey me, things would be so much easier for you!"

His breath stunk and his grip hurt me. I turned my face away from him.

"You're hurting me!"

He gripped me tighter, and I gasped in pain.

My mom grabbed his sleeve, and his grip loosened enough for me to twist away. I dashed into the living room, and he came after me and caught me, turning me towards him as I cringed in fear.

"Leave her alone!" my mother called.

He pushed me backwards, and I tripped over an empty beer can and fell hard against the floor. He reached down and yanked me up again by my dress, and I closed my eyes and turned my face away.

"Why are you so difficult!?"

I remained quiet, holding my tongue, determined this time not to release it.

"You try my patience, you stupid girl! I was never this angry before I met you! You are the cause for all of this; you bring everything on yourself!"

He pushed me backwards, and I turned in terror and raced for the door as he snatched a glass bottle off the ground and sharply pulled his arm back.

I desperately yanked the door open and startled Piero, who was walking up the porch steps in a black suit and blue bow-tie. He jumped in surprise at me and then widened his eyes at Ray's position behind me.

"Julia, what-"

I slammed the door behind me and heard the glass of the bottle smash against it. Ray yelled curses at me, and I grabbed Piero's hand tightly in mine and jumped down the steps, pulling him behind me.

We ran together to his car, which was parked a little ways away near the street, and then he stopped running and stopped me by taking me by the shoulders and turning me to face him.

He looked back toward the house to make sure no one was coming after us. Seeing that no one was, he turned back to me and took my face in his hands.

"Julia?"

I pushed back from him and stared in fear at the closed door of the house. Piero gently reached out and took me by the arms.

I looked up at him, fearful tears in my eyes, my heart racing.

He reached out and embraced me, and after a moment's hesitation I thrust my arms around his back, inside of the fancy black coat. He held me tightly to him

"Julia, you're shaking," he observed gently.

I was. It was definitely not the first time Ray had handled me so harshly, but every time made me afraid all over again. As Piero held me tightly, I began to feel…safe.

I remembered where I was and pushed back from him, looking over at the house.

He took my hand tightly in his, and I looked up at him.

"I'm okay," I said, my voice shaky. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded quickly, and took my hand from him to wipe my watering eyes.

"Come here," he said gently, reaching out to hug me again. He held me securely, but I was frightened to still be in that setting. I reached up and touched his face, receiving his immediate attention.

"Can we go?" I pleaded. "Please? My mother's not coming with me."

He released me at once and went around to the other side of the car.

I climbed in and watched the house fade into the distance as he drove away. I quietly looked out the window, feeling the fast beating of my heart. I slowly smoothed my hair and the fabric of the gown and watched the houses hurtling by out the window.

"Julia," Piero said firmly.

I looked over at him, and he glanced at me, then back at the road.

"What happened?"

"He got mad."

"Why?"

"He just gets mad sometimes."

"Was that a beer bottle that shattered? Was he drunk?"

I hesitated before deciding to answer.

"Yes."

"How often does that happen? How often does he get mad at you?"

I was still shaking, and I wrapped my arms around myself and looked out the window. Piero didn't need to know everything. It wasn't his problem to worry about.

"Julia?"

"Piero, it's okay."

"It's not okay, Julia!" he snapped. "I just saw the man you live with throw a beer bottle at you!"

I quickly turned to him, startled by his outburst.

He was right; it wasn't okay. I just wanted it to be. I looked down at my hands, seemingly small and pale in my lap. It was easier not to explain, but I supposed he ought to know some information after what he just witnessed. I tried to figure out what to say, something that would satisfy his questions without revealing too much, and I could feel him looking over at me.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, after a moment, and I looked up. "I'm just afraid for you. You're obviously not safe there. I'm trying to figure out to what extent."

We both were quiet for a few moments, then I carefully worded, "He gets drunk, and he gets mad."

"And what does he do when he gets mad?"

"He yells at me, and he throws things. And he handles me roughly. That's pretty much it. It could be worse."

"How roughly?"

"He pushes me around, against walls and on the ground."

His hands tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. I quietly watched his dark brows pull inward.

"You're angry," I said softly, looking at his white knuckles. "I should have waited until we got to the theatre to tell you anything."

His face softened.

"I'm calm, I'm calm. Look, we're almost there now, anyway."

He drove down a long stretch of road and pulled into a reserved parking lot. He climbed out and I did also, holding up the bottom of my gown so I wouldn't trip.

He came around the car to meet me, and he offered me his arm.

I wasn't in heels, but I took it. I could tell he was thinking hard.

He led me through the parking lot into the theatre and ushered me through the group of people backstage.

I spotted the other two Il Volo boys and raised my hand to wave at them, but Piero didn't stop to acknowledge them. He led me swiftly through a hallway to the dressing rooms, even though he was already dressed in his suit and bow-tie.

"Piero, what are you doing?" I asked.

He opened the door to one of the rooms and placed a hand on my back to guide me inside. He quietly shut the door behind him, then took my hand and led me over to the makeup table. Gently reaching his hands around my waist, he effortlessly lifted me up and sat me on the table. Then he pulled up a stood up and sat in front of me, taking both my hands in his.

"Alright," he said gently, looking up at me. "You must tell me about this man."

"Oh, Piero, you shouldn't worry about it."

"It's too late for that. Please," he whispered, reaching up to brush my hair from my face.

I looked into his pleading eyes and nodded slightly. If he wanted to know, I could tell him a little, right?

"He has a job, and he doesn't drink during the week because he can't go to work hung-over. So he reserves the drinking to Friday nights and Saturday mornings, which is why I must leave the house. It's part of the system I have going. I only return home late Friday night to sleep, and I go in through the window and lock the door. It works out. Mostly if I stay out of his way, there's no trouble."

"Mostly?"

"I do my best to deal with it. It's never anything too serious. Soon my mother should kick him out. One of these days I'm going to reach her."

He raised his eyebrows.

"He doesn't hit me," I said encouragingly, "He pushes me around, but he's never hit me."

"Is that supposed to make it okay?"

I quieted, and then shook my head.

"Leave it be for now, Piero, will you?"

"Julia…"

I took my hands from his and reached for his face, gently resting them on the sides of his smooth cheeks.

"Piero."

He quieted. I had his attention now. The anxious twisting inside me made me feel as if I had already told him too much, and I wished I could take some information back so he wouldn't worry. Ray was my problem, not his.

"Piero, I don't want to think about it or talk about it anymore tonight. I'm doing the best I can to deal with it, and I'm not injured, am I? I'm here tonight to watch you sing, and that's what I intend to do. It's a beautiful Friday evening, and I'm safe here with you. Will you set this aside tonight and sing for me?"

He was silent, looking bewilderedly up at me.

My hands were still on his face, and he slowly reached up and curled his hands around my wrists.

"You're okay?" he eventually asked softly.

"I'm okay."

I smiled encouragingly at him, and he slowly smiled back and stood up, pushing the stool aside with his foot. He leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek, lingering there for a moment. He reached his arms around me to help me down from the table.

"Julia," he said, placing me gently on the floor and straightening up. "You look lovely, like an angel."

"Thank you, Piero," I said, smiling and reaching up to straighten the bow-tie for him. "You look very handsome."

He held up his hand to me and smiled sweetly.

"Shall we go?"

I smiled and placed my hand in his.

"We shall!"