Say Ye by Celia Juliano Read Free Book Online Page B

enough to find the courage to go to Lorenzo’s.
    She ambled into the small L-shaped yard, where the tomatoes and herbs grew high in their late summer abundance. Lita brushed her fingertips over the soft, fuzzy leaves of the tomato and sage, the smoothness of the basil, their strong scents wafted around her. She smiled; maybe later she’d make a batch of marinara sauce. She looked at the basement. Cleaning it would be a good project for the afternoon.
    Lita swept and dusted, washed the windows and reorganized the earthquake supplies on the shelves. She ate a late lunch upstairs, cleaning the kitchen again before she returned to the basement. There were only four boxes to go through now, two of which were full of Lee’s high school memorabilia. She pulled out his yearbooks, finding all the pictures of him and Lorenzo, on the track and tennis teams, a few candids, the portraits from each year.
    Lita wiped away a tear and sniffled, the smell of past years, musty and strong, nearly overpowered her senses. She remembered how carefree she’d been, how much happier Lorenzo had seemed, though he’d always had his dark moments, even then. She placed the boxes back with a sigh and pushed them in place before opening the other two, marked “Christmas.” She thought all the Christmas decorations were in the hall closet upstairs.
    Papers and photos filled these boxes, though. It appeared Jane had reused some boxes to throw the jumble into. Lita separated the papers and photos before she put each back into its own box. She ignored the papers, but looked at each photo before putting it away. Mostly, they were of Aunt Cass and her family, a few of her grandma and grandpa Lawson before they’d passed away, some of Lee and Jane when they’d still lived with Aunt Cass in Berkeley before Lita was born. Picking up a photo different from the others, Lita’s hand trembled. It was of Jane and a slight, attractive, bookish, obviously Mediterranean man in front of an Italian bookstore. Lita glanced at the back, nothing, but she knew he must be her father.
    Holding onto the photo, she ran upstairs, just as Emma walked in the front door.
    “Do you know who this is?” Lita demanded, holding the photo out to Emma.
    “Nope.” Emma shrugged.
    “Look again. Are you sure?”
    Emma took the photo, studied it, and turned it over. “Just Jane and some guy.” Emma’s checks turned red as she handed the photo back to Lita. Emma never blushed. Except that time she lied to Aunt Cass…and Lita had a hazy memory of Grandma Lawson saying the Lawson women blushed when they lied.
    “He’s my father, isn’t he? Don’t make me call Jane and your mom.”
    “Go ahead.” Emma brushed past her.
    Lita grabbed her arm. “Don’t lie to me, Emma. I thought you were always honest with me. Please. I need to know.”
    Emma faced her and blew out a breath. “All right. Yes, he’s your father. Some man Jane met at a conference in Italy. He owned that bookstore. His name was Timo Sabatini.”
    “Where is he?”
    “He died a few years ago.”
    Lita stared at the photo. Dead. Her family had kept her father from her and now she’d never know him.
    “You’re better off not knowing, okay? Jane did the right thing--”
    “How can you say that?” Lita paced now, wanting to hit something. “How long have you known? Who else knows?”
    “Just me and my mom, I think. I don’t remember when I found out—I think I overheard Jane and my mom talking a long time ago.”
    “You knew how important this was to me.” Lita trembled. She took a deep breath to try and stop the screams and accusations she held back. Emma had lied to her. Jane, Aunt Cass—who could be trusted? What else had they lied about? What if Lee knew? Lita stopped and hugged herself. Lee was the one person she could always trust. Lee—and Lorenzo.
    “Lita, come on, sit down.”
    “No, I’ve got to go. You pick up Jane and your parents by yourself. I won’t be here.”
    Lita grabbed her purse