me.
August 6, 2008
Holy shit. These are your journals. These are your whole life.
Why did you leave these here? Are they safe? Don’t they need to be in a temperature-controlled room? And it gets really damp here in the winter. Though I suppose the bedroom is pretty good with the way it’s cut into the rock.
I feel like I can’t leave the house now, even though they were probably here for weeks before I came and I’m sure they’re perfectly secure.
You knew Napoleon? Really?
Was he as insecure about his height as everyone says? You must have looked like a giant next to him.
August 10, 2008
These things are incredible. There’s no way I’m going to get through all of them, though. My Latin is not that good.
So you’ve found an ingenious way of keeping me coming back here.
Bastard.
It’s irritating how intelligent you are sometimes.
August 17, 2008
I have to leave tomorrow. I hate not having more time here, but I have to go.
Yes, I’ll come back. You knew I would.
And just so you know, Mano and I are still together. Grandma and Caspar love him. Carwyn met him last winter when he came for a visit. I think he likes him, too. Carwyn made noises about Mano and I sleeping together, though. I forget he’s a priest sometimes. Oops. Must be the Hawaiian shirts. You should have seen this green one he bought the last time he came to L.A. It was hideous. He loved it.
I got a letter from Tenzin last month. She’s so…weird. In the best way, but…yeah, she’s old. Did you know she calls me every three or four months? It’s the most hilarious thing. I think whoever her human is puts it on speaker phone and Tenzin just yells. I have to hold the phone away from my ear so she doesn’t break my eardrums. I think I’m the closest thing she has to a female friend. Not that we talk about braiding our hair or anything. She said she’s going to come for a visit one of these days. Should be…interesting.
I’m not ready to leave. I want to read more about your life. You’re very hard on yourself, Jacopo. Be kinder.
And wherever you are, be safe.
August 5, 2009
Four weeks of vacation now! Score. Well, I still only get three weeks paid, but they let me take an additional week off unpaid, so I’m using that to go see Grandma and Caspar for Christmas and I can take three weeks here.
By the way, could you surface at some point, please? I think Cas and Grandma would like to get married and they’re waiting for you to be a part of our lives again in more ways than cryptic phone calls, letters, and postcards.
Just a suggestion. Going to read now.
August 11, 2009
I can’t even…you have had such an amazing life, Gio. And now that I’m more used to your writing style in Latin, your journals are really hilarious at times.
And then sometimes they make me cry.
Don’t worry, I’m taking good care of them.
August 14, 2009
I think Mano is starting to think about marriage and babies and all that stuff. I’m only twenty-eight, but he’s older than me; he’s already thirty-two. (And yes, I’m sure you’re probably laughing when you read that, old man.)
I just don’t know. He wanted to move in together last winter, but I like having my space. When he’s there too much…well, we just get on each other’s nerves, you know? I like having my alone time. We had a huge fight about it, but we worked through it. He’s a good guy, and I love him a lot.
August 19, 2009
I’m so fucking mad right now, I can hardly write.
Was that you in the trees last night? It better not have been! I cannot believe you would come that close and not even-
Nevermind, I can believe it.
It was you. I could even smell the smoke. I can’t believe you would do that to me.
Yes, I can.
Damn it, Gio. Damn it! Damn you. Damn this valley. Damn this house. Damn your journals. Damn everything.
I’m not doing it anymore. I refuse. What do you want from me? What? Just call me or write me or do anything! But I’m not doing this anymore. I’m done.
You know what? Don’t write me. Don’t contact me. I never want to see you again, or hear from you, or anything. I’m moving on with my life. I have a life! Do you realize that? And you’re not in it, so leave me alone.
I’m not coming back here. I’m through.
You asshole! I’ve had enough of pale faces haunting me. I’ve done it before and I’m not going to let you get to me the way my father did. I’m leaving tomorrow and I’m not coming back.
Do you understand me?
And when Mano asks me to marry him, I’m saying yes.
Chapter One
“B?”
“Hmph.”
“Baby, the alarm already went off.”
She looked over her shoulder at Mano, who appeared to be wearing nothing more than a lazy grin.
“It went off already?” she croaked, shutting her eyes against the morning sun.
He nodded. “Yep. I let you sleep in a little, but I knew you’d kick me if I let you miss work.”
The morning sun streamed through the small window in the bedroom. Mano must have propped it open the night before, and she could smell the Meyer lemon tree blossoming on the patio.
“Why am I so tired?”
“Apparently, it was a scotch night last night,” he snickered. “I came over and let myself in, but you were already asleep.”
Beatrice rolled over and blinked at her gorgeous boyfriend. “You came over and crawled in my bed looking like that, and I missed it?”
“Your loss.”
She groaned and burrowed into his warm chest. “Why did I drink the Laphroaig? It was not my friend last night. And I have to work late because Dr. Stevens asked me to help her close.”
His low voice rumbled in her ear as she pressed her cheek to his chest. “How late? You want me to come over and cook dinner?”
She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “We’ve got that group visiting from USC right now and they’ve been staying as late as she’ll let them, so…I don’t know, probably not till eight-thirty or so.”
