Ivy's Twisted Vine Redux Latrivia Nelson (best selling autobiographies .txt) 📖

“Fine.” Nicola shook Arin’s hand lightly and pulled away putting

his fists in his pockets. “I was just wondering where Pop’s floating home was. I was going to take a look at it.”

“It’s all yours,” Santo instantly sensed the old grudge resurfacing and stepped a few steps back to give Nicola breathing room.

“Well, I’ve got to run.” Arin pulled a strand of her long blonde hair out of her face and smiled at Santo. “I’ll be home later.”

“Yeah, Hun.” Santo pecked her on her freckled cheek before she walked away waving shyly at Nicola, who looked away pretending he did not see her.

After nearly seven years, Nicola still could not understand how his twin brother could marry his high school sweetheart. It seemed that in his quest to return back to Miami a better man, he had lost touch with what was going on at home in his own backyard. While away at Memphis State University one afternoon before football practice, he checked his mailbox and discovered a letter from his brother saying that he was getting married. Excitement over took him, he was proud that Santo had found someone to spend his life with. It was only after he realized that the someone was Arin that the room started to spin that he found himself sitting on the floor tearing the letter to shreds.

The next spring before graduation, Nicola signed up for the Memphis Police Academy. Six months later after graduation, he was a cop and two months after that Arin was his sister-in-law. Needless to say that he didn’t make it to the wedding nor did he call. Instead, he sent a small black card in response to his brother that simply said, “et tu Brute.”

Now face-to-face with his Roman politician and the knife still buried deeply in his back, the situation didn’t seem so crucial anymore. He still had resentment towards both of them, equally, but his mind was on larger issues. Ivy. The twins. Brooks.

Looking at his brother, Nicola confirmed his quiet suspicions that the babies absolutely had to be his. He was carrying the dominant trait for twins. He was a twin. Brooks had known the entire time but had kept his secret at his request. And now it was too late in the game to tell Ivy.

“You still hate me, brother?” Santo squinted in the sun. He had to ask in hopes that years of separation had brought his other half some resolve.

“Not hardly.” Nicola turned away from his brother and looked at the boat.

“I still hate you.” Santo said looking at Nicola’s even dark tan.

“Get over it.” Nicola looked across the dock at the water.

“I’m kidding, man.” Santo hit Nicola on the back. “No, really, I just…miss you. You don’t call. You don’t write. You don’t email. It’s been six long years since I’ve even heard your voice or seen your face.”

“I know. Deep wounds don’t heal quickly.”

“Especially wounds as deep as the ones that I’ve caused you.” Santo still carried guilt in his heart.

“Well, life has opened to my eyes to this thing called forgiveness. And if I can possibly have forgiveness for all the shit that I’ve done, I can’t deny you the same.” Nicola put his hand on Santo’s shoulder.

“You don’t know how much that means to me, Nico.”

“The last time we spoke…even after all this time, I can’t believe that I said those things to you. A lot has been going on in my life, but I’ve thought about you and the family often.” He was sure that his brother knew everything leaving him no reason to elaborate.

“Yeah, well I’m sorry, too.” Santo looked out across the water as well, avoiding eye contact. “I never wanted to lose my only brother. And I’m sorry about what happened to your partner. I’m sure he was a good man.”

“I appreciate it.” Nicola took his eyes off the boat for a moment and looked at Santo. “So, I’ve got to ask. Why haven’t you and Arin had some little crumb snatchers?”

“She…we…hell, I’m sure Mom told you.”

Nicola became curious. “Told me what?”

“Arin can’t have kids.” Santo’s eyes met the ground. “We’ve been trying for five years now. Nothing, still.”

“Wow,” Nicola shook his head.

Suddenly the envy that Nicola had felt in his heart for many years instantly vanished. His brother, who he always thought looked younger than him, now stood before him with age on his shoulders. He no longer looked like the youthful, arrogant yet intelligent sibling that he used to know. All of his features were still sculpted and molded like a Greek god, his hair as black as coal, his body well defined and upright and his demeanor as distinguished as all Agosto men in his family, but Nicola could see a couple of gray hairs as the sun flickered off Santo’s head.

His eyes had small bags under them. And his demeanor was no longer as dominant and overbearing, as it was when they were young men. Now Santo was mellow and humble and for a moment Nicola felt sorry for him. To the average outsider they would never detect the deterioration of Santo’s ambition and boyish luster, but to Nicola was it was obvious as the sun on a clear day.

“I’m sorry, Santo. I really am.” Nicola placed his arm on his brother’s shoulder. That kind of news was never easy to give or to receive.

“Thanks.” Hugging him, he felt tears welding at the sides of his eyes and pulled away. It was good to have his brother home. “How long do you plan to be here?”

“I’ve been here nearly a week. So, I’d say a few more days and then, I have to get back. I need to get back to work.”

“I’d be busting my ass to get out of that place after the showdown you had. You are definitely a man on a mission.” Santo smiled with confidence.

“Well, there’s a lot of work still left, and I owe it to