life like that, just doin' the shit that made me happy. So, I took my share of Pops's life insurance and bought this place.”
Andy's jaw dropped. “But what about Famiglia Bella?” She sounded absolutely horrified, and I couldn't help but laugh.
“We still own it,” I assured her. “But we put it under Moe's care and hired a few other guys to keep things going.”
“Wow,” she uttered breathlessly, shaking her head. “I just can't believe it.”
Shrugging, I folded my arms on the table. “I decided I wanted to honor my father without living in his shadow. So, this is what I'm doin', and that's my story.” I gently nudged her ankle with my foot. “Your turn.”
Andy shrugged as the spoon slid into her mouth. I couldn't help but stare as she licked it clean with slow, purposeful nonchalance, completely unaware of what she was doing to me.
“There really isn't—”
“Oh, no, you don't,” I interjected, shaking my head. “You don't get to drop a bomb like, 'I see dead people' on me without elaborating. So, spill it.”
She shifted in her seat and I knew she was uncomfortable. But in order for this to work, we needed to come clean, literally and figuratively.
“Andy, come on. Just tell me.”
“I ... I'm scared you won't believe me. That's all I've been afraid of this whole time.”
“Well, I can't believe anything if you don't convince me. And if you don't tell me, how the hell are you gonna convince me?”
That seemed to do the trick. Her chest puffed with a deep inhale and as she exhaled, she nodded with determination and resolve.
“I don't know how or when it really happened, but I really noticed when my parents moved into their house when I was about six years old. There was this little girl who lived in my room, who couldn't speak verbally, but she talked in images. Like, little pictures that would pop into my mind, sort of like she was giving me her memories. She told me her name was Jamie, and that there had been an accident at the house. When I said something to my parents, they assumed I had just seen something about the house somewhere and that I had turned Jamie into my imaginary friend.” She spoke rapidly, like she didn't want to be speaking at all, and I tried my best to keep up and retain it all.
“I believed that for a while, until it started happening outside of the house. I'd go to the grocery store with my mom and see the ghost of the cashier's husband. And at first, they were just there and I thought maybe they were imaginary friends, too.”
I furrowed my brow and asked, “How do they look different? Are they like, translucent?”
That encouraged a little laugh as she shook her head. “They have a sort of a, uh, luminescence about them.”
The corner of my mouth lifted in a gentle smile. “They sound pretty.”
She nodded, finally giving me a smile of her own. “They actually are, but I mean, I'm kinda used to it now. But anyway, it eventually got to a point where I couldn't concentrate on anything because of the constant images and messages. I was failing my classes, my parents took me to a bunch of doctors, and I was diagnosed with ADHD.”
“Why couldn't you just tell the truth?” I asked, cocking my head.
Andy sighed, flabbergasted. “Because the first time I did, they told me I had an imaginary friend. The second time I said anything, they told me I was too old for that stuff and to take responsibility for my own actions.”
“So, you just kept it to yourself,” I concluded quietly, beginning to understand. “Because nobody believed you from the beginning.”
She didn't have to nod for me to understand that was the truth, and just like that, my love for her doubled in size. It occurred to me then that love isn't just the simple act of being with someone, it’s also carrying the weight of their truth and making it your own. Just to lighten the load and make their life that much easier.
“I could never be in any kind of meaningful relationship,” she explained, slowly twirling her spoon in the melted ice cream. “I tried a couple times in college, but I was always so distracted. There was this one guy,” her lips turned up in the faintest hint of a smile, “named Logan, and—”
“You tryna make me jealous, sweetheart?” I teased, smirking.