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long as he could.

“No, it’s okay,” he said. “But I was thinking that you could maybe call a lawyer or something and set up a meeting for this afternoon, and maybe they’ll tell me what to do. Also, I’ll have to call that bank with all my money and set up an appointment to see what’s up.”

“I’ll make the calls for you,” she said. Dante liked that she never used silly nicknames like lovers do. “You take care and call me if you feel sick or whatever.”

Dante sipped from the coffee cup she had brought him, perfectly black French Roast coffee that he had grown to love more than any other coffee in the last two days because it was her favorite. “I will,” he promised. “Don’t go back to the Company without me,” he advised as he was getting up. “Those French people might be asking you about me, and maybe you’ll get in trouble. And you know what, I’ll take those papers with me to show them to my mom. Maybe she knows something about them.”

It was raining even harder outside and Dante circled the block three times trying to find his car. He was sure he had moved it a few spaces the night before, but all that medication had left his memory blurry. Wet and cold, he went back to Bea’s apartment.

“I can’t find my car,” he shouted from the hallway.

Bea rushed to him. “I left mine at the office,” she said. “How about taking a cab? There’s a taxi station at the corner of Columbia.”

“Okay,” he said. “I know it’s there somewhere, I just don’t remember where I parked it last night. I guess I was still confused from the drugs or something.”

He went back downstairs and hailed a cab from the street.

“Arlington,” he said. “Just take Route 50, I’ll give you directions from there.”

The driver looked at him a few times through the mirror. “Do I know you?” he finally asked Dante. “You seem very familiar somehow.”

“I don’t think so,” said Dante. “I really don’t know many people.”

It was 7:30 AM when the cab pulled in front of his mother’s house. It was a bit early, Dante realized. His mom was probably just getting up. He picked up the Washington Post from the lawn and opened the door using his own key.

“It’s me, mom,” he shouted entering the living room. “I’ll make the coffee, take your time.”

“Oh, hi, honey,” his mom said and came to meet him, surprisingly dressed up already. “I already made the coffee. I’m so glad you came, I was worried about you.”

She looked out of the bay window into the driveway. “Did you drive?” she asked. “Where’s your car?”

“Oh, I took a cab,” he answered, taking off his wet jacket. “I couldn’t find my car this morning, I parked it some place last night and I don’t remember where. Maybe they towed it or something.”

His mom shook her head but didn’t say anything. “So who’s your new girl?” she asked.

“Oh, just a girl,” he said dismissively. His instinct again advised him to keep his new love under wraps, maybe until it was strong enough and mature enough to defend itself against anything. “But I came for something else. Guess what – it turns out all these French people from the Company were after me because I own stock and stuff.”

“Really?” his mom said.

“Yeah, Dad gave me a bunch of shares when I was a baby, it turns out nobody knew and now I am a millionaire. Yeah!”

Lucia sat down at the breakfast table, her face concentrated but not as surprised as Dante thought it should have been.

“How did you find out about all this?” she asked, looking him in the eyes.

“A lawyer came to my house with some papers and I thought he was wrong, but then at the Company they found my name as a shareholder, even though the new CEO was trying to delete the records.”

“Do you have those papers?” Lucia asked.

“Yeah, I brought them with me,” he said. “I was going to ask you to look at them, maybe you know something about all this. I don’t know what to do with them, and Monday there’s some meeting where I’m supposed to be but I have no clue what to do there.”

He leaned to take the papers out of the inside pocket of the jacket, when something caught his eye on the front page of the Washington Post.

“Oh, my God,” he said. “There’s a picture of me in the paper. Man Disappears Amidst Concerns ForHis Mental Health,” he read stupefied. “What??”

The article quoted Dante’s neighbor and good friend, Lee, saying that Dante hadn't come home for four days. It also quoted a co-worker, Danny, saying that he had been with Dante at an executive training camp and they had become friends but Dante acted very weird, then ran away naked into the woods. The article also mentioned Dante’s manager expressing his concern for Dante’s mental health, given that the last time he had seen him, Dante was on his way to the medical office for a psychological evaluation. The article then gave a phone number to call if anybody had any information regarding Dante’s whereabouts.

“Who the hell is Lee? And Danny?” Dante wondered loudly. “I don’t have a neighbor named Lee. This is all a damn lie. I’ll call the paper right now and tell them I’m here and I’m sane.”

“Don’t,” Lucia said, grabbing his arm. “What if they send you to a mental hospital? You said it yourself, some bad people are after you. Why don’t you stay here with me, no one cares about an old lady. They won’t come here.”

Dante sat down again, confused. This was too hard for him to figure out. He had spent his life taking the main road, being boring and bland; nothing ever happened to him, except for the hoards of strangers asking him out for lunch at any given time of the day.

“Mom,” he said, “look, you know I’m not very bright. But you have to talk to me. You never tell me anything. I want to know everything – how did you meet Dad? Why did he leave? Was your last name French? I always thought you were Italian, like Dad was. Did you know that Dad was the real CEO of my Company? Did you know I had shares? I need to know these things, it is driving me crazy.”

“Your Dad never told me anything either, dear,” Lucia answered. “I had no idea about the shares, and I had no idea he was a CEO. I truly thought he left us for good or that he died. I’m sorry but there’s nothing much to tell. I met him, I loved him, I married him, we had you, then he left us with no explanation. It’s very painful to face, but what it comes down to is that he didn’t love us enough to stay. There’s no conspiracy, just a common drama.”

Dante sighed and took his hand in his palms. “I don’t know what to do,” he said. “I think that Dad is in danger. I think these French people did something to him, like they tried to do to me. Only they didn’t know about me until that lawyer gave me all my shares because Dad had disappeared. And I got lucky and escaped them so far. But how do we find Dad? Where do we even start looking, Mom?”

He looked at her over the breakfast table, trying to see if she would come closer to him and hug him or at least hold him. But she was never into that touchy-feely stuff.

“It’s going to be okay, baby,” Lucia said with her usual tone of voice. “Here,” she offered, “I have these pills my doctor gave me. They calm me down and help me think straight.”

She reached for the bottle on the kitchen counter and took out two white pills. Dante extended his palm to receive them, but his eyes popped out when he looked at them: the pills had the letter K engraved on them – the same ones that Bea had given him and knocked him out for 24 hours.

For once in his life, Dante had to think fast. Why would his own mother want him to sleep for 24 hours and lie about it? Why was she more interested in his papers than in saving his Dad? Why did his fiancée leave him the next day after meeting his mom? Why was she keeping secrets from him?

His first instinct was to throw away the pills and get out of there, and back to Bea’s love and care; but the curiosity held him on the chair. Maybe this was his chance to finally understand who his mother was - and implicitly, who he really was.

He calmly got up and got a glass of water, then pretended to take the pills while discarding them in the sink along with the remaining water.

“Okay,” he said, turning back to her, smiling. “I feel better already.”

She nodded, preoccupied; she was looking at his shareholder documents, which she had taken out of his jacket. She read in silence, with no emotion showing on her face.

“Uhhhh,” Dante yawned theatrically. “I am so tired, maybe I’ll lay down a bit on the couch. I had a really rough week.”

“Sure, baby,” Lucia said absent-mindedly. “Take your time, relax.”

Dante pretended to fall asleep after a few minutes; he breathed regularly and closed his eyes, but all his other senses remained more alert than usual.

“You asleep, cara?” Lucia asked after a while. He didn’t answer.

Lucia went back to the dining area and called someone on the phone. “Il est ici,” she said softly . “Oui, j’avais… Bien. Bien.”

Dante felt the knives of betrayal gnawing at his insides. His own mother was going to sell him to the nasty French people; what did he mean to her? he asked himself. He was a millionaire now, and yet she was still selling him out; he had a good girlfriend, and yet she wasn’t happy for him; he loved her, and yet she was lying to him for 30 years.

He was about to open his eyes and confront her, although he wasn’t sure what to say to her. But he knew he had to get out of there because he wasn’t safe. He thought about Bea and felt warmth and love flowing over him, covering his wounds, making him whole.

Just then the entrance door popped open violently and Mr. Saccas stepped in. Dante closed his eyes back, his curiosity more powerful than his anger.

“Amelie,” Mr. Saccas said. “What are you doing, woman?”

Amelie?? Dante thought, amazed.

“I’m doing what I have to do,” his mother answered back in a rough, deep voice he had never heard before. “The Company has to return to the rightful owners.”

“How are these Frenchmen rightful owners?” Mr. Saccas asked. “They only have a vague connection to your family, and your own relatives didn’t want to help them. Besides, this was Christian’s company from the beginning of times – and that is not a metaphor. It’s his foothold. It’s how he does good things.”

“He gave me half of it,” she said angrily. “And then he left me. I fucking deserve the whole thing for
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