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Serial: Down the River – Chapter Twenty-Two

I’m finally revisiting the characters from The River City Chronicles nine years after their original timeline. I’ll be running the series weekly here on my blog, and then will release it in book form at the end of the run. Hope you enjoy catching up with all your faves and all their new secrets!

Today, Gio needs a change in his life, and an opportunity presents itself…

< Read Chapter Twenty-One

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Down the River Header

Chapter Twenty-Two
All Roads Lead To…

It’s time for a change.

Gio threw his phone onto his nightstand and pulled his knees up against his chest, hugging his sweats-covered legs and banging his head against the headboard in a slow, deliberate rhythm. His bare feet crinkled the sheets between his toes.

He’d lived in this little bedroom above Ragazzi, in Papà’s house, for nine years now. Sure, the commute was great, and he loved the job, working as the host and manager for the restaurant. But Diego never listened to his ideas. Now he was twenty-six, with no college degree, no place of his own, and no real direction.

He slipped out of bed, his bare feet touching the cold hardwood floor, and began to pace back and forth from one end of the small room to the other.

Step step step. Diego had been open to change once. He’d crossed an ocean with Matteo, taken a buco di merdaof a failing restaurant and turned it into something great. He’d even launched a cooking class that had set Ragazzi a step above the rest.

Why is he so afraid of change now?

Step step step. In a way, he understood it. These were perilous times. Immigrants were being demonized, rights taken away, and who knew what might happen in the November election? It reminded him of the fascist takeover of Italy he’d studied in his history classes, and how they still left sheafs of wheat at the tomb of Mussolini in Predappio.

Step step step. Papà and Babbo were both gay and from another country. Plus they were getting older—in their fifties now—and it must be a very scary time for them to consider taking risks.

He stopped in his tracks.

I’m not old. Though sometimes he felt like he was. He lived an adult life, spending nearly all of his time at work. He rarely did anything for himself, and he hadn’t had a steady girlfriend since Marissa. He still didn’t understand what had gone wrong there.

If he were honest with himself, he’d admit it. I’m scared too. Prices were so high. Everyone was hot under the collar about politics. The idea of ever owning his own place seemed way out of reach. And who knew if there would even be a world to worry about in another decade or two?

Tap tap. The gentle sound brought his head up to stare at the door.

Must have been making too much noise on the squeaky floorboards. “Come in.” He sank back down on his bed, expecting Papà to poke his head in and tell him to get back to sleep. He put his head down and his hands in his lap.

“Sorry to bother you. I seed that the light was still on.” It was Babbo, his stepfather Matteo.

Gio didn’t bother correcting him, but his spirit brightened. “Sorry for waking you.” He adored Matteo, his second dad. Though sometimes he still missed his mother. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what she looked like.

“You didn’t. I was going to the kitchen for some water.” Matteo closed the door behind him. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Gio looked up. Matteo’s black hair was a ridiculous bed-sculpted mess. “You too?”

Matteo nodded. “Some worries about the work.”

Gio grinned. Babbo Matteo was fluent in English, but little things like prepositions, articles and past tenses still betrayed him, every now and then.

The bed shifted as Matteo sat down beside him. “What is it keeping you awake?”

Gio shrugged. “The usual. Worried about work. The future. Papà.”

Matteo raised an eyebrow.

He plowed ahead. “He never lets me change anything. I have all these great ideas, and he just turns them down, like I’m still seventeen and fresh off the plane. Like he doesn’t trust me to know what I’m talking about.” That was the root of it. He was stuck, and his father didn’t even see it.

“You have many good ideas.” Matteo patted his hand. “Diego is… stubborn. Like someone else I know.”

He blushed, examining his hands. “Maybe. But does he have to shoot down every single idea I bring him? Non ´giusto!” It wasn’t fair, not really. He needed more than the same job, the same day, every day.

“You need a change.”

Gio looked up at him in wonder. It was like Babbo could read his mind. “Yeah. Maybe I do.”

Matteo stared back at him for a long time before answering. “Look,” he said at last, “I don’t want to lose you. It’s special, what we have here as a family, and I know that Gio wants you to have this place, someday.”

Gio’s eyes widened. “He does? He never says it…” All he ever felt from his father was disapproval.

“Diego is a proud man. A good one, but a proud one. He doesn’t see you like I do.” Matteo put a warm hand on his shoulder. “You are a grown man. Good, like your father, but proud too.”

Gio’s face flushed. “Thank you, Babbo.”

“I have an idea.” He grinned, drawing out the moment, clearly enjoying his role as the peacemaker.

“Are you going to tell me, or what?” Maybe Matteo wanted to give him more responsibility. Maybe he would even help convince Diego about the franchise idea.

“I think you should go back to Italy.”

“What?” Gio stared at him blankly. They were sending him away? He was far too old for boarding school. “Babbo, that’s… look, I like it here. I don’t want to go back to live there.” His mind was scrambling. What did I do wrong?

Matteo returned the blank look, then the wrinkles around the sides of his eyes creased, his face broadened into a smile, and he laughed heartily. He covered his mouth, apparently realizing the late hour, then shook his head. “No, no, no. That’s not what I meant at all.”

“Then what?” Gio’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh, if you could watch the look on your face.” He laughed again, more softly this time. “Carmelina and Daniele are going to Rome for a wedding this next weekend. Why don’t you tag along, and use the time to explore Rome’s culinary scene? We have enough miles for a coach post. Stay for a week or two, and when you come back, you and I will talk to Diego together about making some changes around here.”

Gio blinked twice, not believing his ears. “Are you serious?” It was just what he needed, a break from Ragazzi, and Papà. And the chance to dine at a bunch of restaurants in Rome. “Are you sure she won’t mind me tagging along?”

“Not at all. I run it by her earlier today.”

“Ran… oh, it doesn’t matter. Thank you, Babbo.” He threw his arms around Matteo. A Roman holiday. And when he got back, they would tackle Mount Diego together. A stray thought crossed his mind. “You sure you can handle the restaurant without me?”

“We’ll manage, somehow. So, yes?”

“Yes!” He couldn’t believe that by the weekend, he’d be in Rome. He’d visited there once with his mother, when he was nine years old, but never as an adult. He’d always dreamed of going, but there’d never been time.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll let your papà know.” Matteo got up to go.

Gio grabbed his hand and pulled him back. “What about the work thing? The one you said was keeping you up?”

“Oh, it was nothing. Just a little work matter.”

Gio knew his Babbo well enough to see that he was hiding something. But he also knew that it would do no good to try to pry it out of him before he was ready. Instead, he hugged Matteo tightly. “Thank you, Babbo.”

Matteo kissed him lightly on the forehead. “I am so proud of you, mio cucciolo.” With that, he left Gio alone once again. Alone, but no longer feeling so stuck. 

He didn’t even mind being called my little puppy.

He would pack in the morning, but for now he needed to sleep. As if he could.

I’m going to Rome!

< Read Chapter Twenty-One


Like what you read? if you haven’t tried it yet, check out book one, The River City Chronicles, here.

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