Page 6 of Nolan (The Doherty Mafia)
She had the same golden curls as me, big blue eyes, petite frame. She was smiling in the picture, leaning against an old beat up truck, her arms crossed over her chest. I had seen this face…I saw it every day when I looked in the mirror.
I looked up at Aldo, trying to blink away the burning tears filling my eyes. He had a bitter smile on his face—as though, seeing her picture had brought back memories for him too.
“She was beautiful, wasn’t she? And you look just like her, Amelia.”
My words were stuck in my throat as I clutched the picture in my palm, holding on tight.
This man wasn’t lying to me.
We were in the car, driving somewhere far from the city.
“You’re hiding out?” I asked Aldo. He sat beside me, looking out of the window. I made sure we weren’t touching, and he didn’t try to touch me.
“I have no choice. If they find me, they will kill me,” he replied.
“Who are these people and why are they trying to kill you?”
Aldo fixed a calm stare on me.
“Because I became a threat to them and their business. This is all for the sake of money and power. They want what’s mine and I have to protect it.”
I couldn’t entirely make sense of what he was talking about, but it became obvious it was important to him.
“What is your business?”
Aldo sighed.
“Shipping. Import export. I have had my fingers in a lot of pies. I’ve built an empire over the years and now these people want a piece of it. You know, Amelia, I’m not a man of violence. I don’t want to be in this war with these people, but they want to spill blood.”
I felt sorry for him. He was an older man, being forced into hiding and not being able to enjoy his wealth and the life he’d built.
“How long do you think you’ll have to hide out?” I asked.
“Months. Years. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll die in isolation. Anyway, none of that matters now that I’ve found you. I’ve been thinking about you for years, ever since Nora died and I promised her I’d find you.”
He smiled at me, and for the first time, I smiled at him too.
I felt a warmth towards him. I still had the picture of my mother in my hands and I looked at it again. Her smile was infectious. I didn’t know what circumstances had led to her giving me up. I’d always wondered why my parents didn’t want me, but now I felt closer to her. Seeing her like this…happy and carefree, made me wish I had gotten to know her. I would’ve forgiven her for giving me up. I just wanted to know why.
“What about my father? Who is he? Where is he?” I asked abruptly, looking up at Aldo who stared out of the window now.
He didn’t turn to me, almost like he couldn’t bring himself to talk to me about my father.
“I don’t know him. Nora barely knew him. He is unimportant in your story, Amelia.”
I would’ve liked to ask him more about my father, but I decided to be content with what he told me about my mother for now. That would have to do.
We arrived at the house Aldo hid out at.
It wasn’t anything spectacular and he had a few men posted outside. I had a feeling they were armed, but didn’t ask about it. I didn’t want to know. At least I didn’t feel personally threatened or afraid for my safety.
Aldo took care in making sure I was comfortable with my surroundings.
The house was small and I would’ve assumed it was abandoned if it weren’t for the people inside. There weren’t many, just a handful, and I sensed these men kept a close eye on Aldo. Probably to keep him safe.
It seemed like he was an important man. Someone who needed to be protected.
Aldo led me to the kitchen where a big meal was spread out on the table.
“Would you like to eat something?” he asked me. I shrugged, sitting down at the table.
Aldo sat across from me and clicked his fingers in the air. A man came over, serving me a plate filled with food. I hadn’t ever been treated like this before and even though it made me a little uncomfortable, I felt like I could trust these people.
Aldo clearly had a soft corner for my mother and wanted to get to know me.
He asked me about my life, and I left out the gory details. I had a pretty ordinary upbringing in foster care homes—it was what anybody would’ve expected from a childhood like mine.
I told him about my passion for hairdressing and that I was thinking of enrolling into community college.
“What do you want to study?” he asked me.
“I’ve had an interest in fashion. I was thinking of starting small, taking a few college classes and some sewing and tailoring lessons. Maybe I’d be able to combine that with my hairdressing skills and get a better job. I don’t want to work at a hair salon all my life.”
