by Quinn Ward
“Well, Tinkerbell,” I started, moving to the edge of the room and sliding my ass down the wall. At least if I was over here, I was maintaining a reasonable distance so no one could say I was doing anything inappropriate with the girl. “I think you’d be a great friend, but your mommy and daddy might not like that very much.”
“My mommy wouldn’t care. She doesn’t live with us anymore.” The girl sniffled. “And daddy’s always busy with work. But he tries to work fast so he can pick me up at Nonna’s house.”
“Oh? And who’s your daddy?” I asked.
“Freddie Marino,” she stated proudly. A pit formed in my stomach, and I worried I was about to be sick. Of course she was Freddie’s kid, because my return home was all some cruel cosmic joke. “He runs the kitchen here and my Uncle Tony is in charge of the tables and Uncle Frankie sits at his desk and makes weird noises while he builds piles of papers.” As evidence, she pointed to the desk. “Do you know my daddy?”
“I used to,” I admitted to her. The man who offered his condolences earlier today was a stranger to me. Hell, I think he’d been a stranger even before our falling out, but I wasn’t going to say any of that to a child. “I used to be friends with your daddy and your uncles when I lived here.”
“Where do you live now?” she asked, sitting down next to me and offering me half of her cookie. I considered reminding her that she shouldn’t talk to strangers, but to a young mind, I’d broken the stranger barrier the moment I told her I knew her family.
“I live in New York,” I told her. “Do you know where that is?”
A tear trailed down her cheek when she nodded. Instinctively, I reached out to comfort her. She burrowed into my side and the tears kept flowing. “My mommy used to talk about going to New York. Do you know my mommy? Did you see her there?”
“No honey, I’m sorry. There are millions of people in New York, so even if I knew who she was I probably wouldn’t see her.”
The door flew open, nearly hitting us. “Sophia, what are you doing?” Freddie glared at me as he picked his daughter up off the floor. “And why are you back here with her?”
“Daddy, this is Peter, like Peter Pan. I told him that we should be friends because Uncle Tony and Uncle Enzo call me Tinkerbell,” she explained. Freddie scrubbed a hand over his face, and I noticed for the first time how tired he looked. In the harsh fluorescent lights, every premature gray hair and line carved into his face stood out. “But he said you wouldn’t want him to be my friend.”
“Oh he did, did he?” Freddie asked, quirking an eyebrow at me.
“That’s not what I said,” I corrected her. “I told her that her that parents probably didn’t want her being friends with someone they don’t know.”
“But then he said he knows you, so I should be able to be friends with him, right?” She was persuasive if nothing else.
Freddie sighed as he carried his daughter across the room. After getting her settled on the couch, he started gathering her things. Instead of sitting there looking like a tool, I picked up the crayons and coloring books, organizing them before putting them in one of the bags. “Sophia, Peter is leaving soon.”
I wasn’t, but I wouldn’t undermine his parenting by correcting him when he was trying to put a quick end to the discussion. “Why did he come here if he’s going to leave again?”
“You know Maria?” Freddie crouched down in front of his daughter. His face scrunched up the way I remembered it doing whenever he was trying to figure out how to say what he was thinking.
“Yeah, she’s the girl you ask to babysit me when Nonna can’t watch me.”
“Peter is Maria’s brother. Remember I told you that their mama died?” Sophia’s bottom lip jutted out, and I thought she was about to cry again.
“If he doesn’t have a mommy either, then he probably needs a friend too,” she argued. “And he said he used to be your friend. You should be a good friend and invite him to the house for dinner with us so he’s not all alone.”
“That’s sweet of you to offer, but I’m sure your daddy is tired. He worked hard today to help my family,” I told her. “And like you said earlier, he works fast so he can spend time with you. I don’t want to interrupt your time together.”
It broke my heart that I found more genuine compassion from a little girl I’d just met and bonded with because my name reminded her of her favorite movie than I had from most of my biological family. It was evident that she was a Marino, because they’d always been people who accepted everyone at face value without trying to push their ideals on anyone. Part of what left me feeling so isolated as a teen was that once Freddie knew my secret, after he looked at me the way he did, I no longer had that sanctuary.
“No, Sophia’s right.” I gaped at Freddie, who now looked back at me with a much softer expression than he’d had when he found me with his daughter. He jerked his head to the side and told Sophia to watch the last few minutes of Peter Pan. “Look, you and your old man don’t have the best relationship. It’s a bit of a drive to my place, but if you want, follow us and have a little time to decompress.”
“Freddie, I don’t need your pity,” I argued.
He reached out and took my hand, sending a shiver through my entire body. I chided myself for thinking the contact meant anything. Forced myself to remember how he’d looked at me that day he’d walked into my bedroom and I couldn’t hide my stash fast enough. The pain when he finally regained the ability to move and raced out of our house for the last time. “I’m not trying to take pity on you, Peter. I’m trying to be your friend.”
“We haven’t been friends for a long time.” I sneered, wishing I was capable of taking Freddie up on his offer without the catty snark.
“And that’s my fault,” he admitted. I wasn’t sure he realized his thumb traced back and forth across my wrist, but it felt so damn good I wasn’t going to do anything to make him stop. “There’s not time to get into all of this right now, but there would be if you followed us back to our place.”
“But you have to take care of Sophia, and I was hoping to spend some time with Maria,” I argued. Why was I trying to make excuses now? With the number of times I’d wished I could sit down and get Freddie to see I was still the same person on the inside that I was before that day, it was ridiculous that I was talking my way out of the opportunity he was offering.
“Bring her with if you’d like,” he offered. “Listen, Maria’s a good girl, and she’s hurting. Things haven’t been easy on her for a while now, and she needs you as much as you need her. And neither of you are going to get what you need at your dad’s place.”
Something in the back of my mind told me this was a horrible idea, but I didn’t want to go home knowing I’d passed up a chance to find out if it was possible to clear the air with Freddie. I doubted we’d ever be best friends again, but I’d settle for two grown men who didn’t need to cross the street when they saw the other coming.
“I’ll see if she’s up for it,” I offered in compromise. If Maria wanted to go home and hide from the family, that’s what we’d do. For all I knew, she’d still be in path-of-least-resistance mode and not want to upset Papa. Personally, I was convinced my presence was enough to piss him off.
“Here, just in case she says no and you change your mind later.” Freddie grabbed a pad of paper off his brother’s desk and scribbled his phone number and address. I stuffed the paper into the pocket of my trousers and we went back to standing lamely in awkward silence. I turned to leave, but Freddie stopped me with a hand to my shoulder. “I am sorry about your mama. You two had your issues, but she loved the hell out of you.”
She did, just not enough to stand up for me. I offered him a weak smile and placed my hand over his. “Thanks.”
3
Freddie
“Is Peter Pan coming over to our house?” Sophia asked as she zoomed past me and up the stairs. Mama had spent part of the afternoon showing off her granddaughter, and it seemed Sophia had consumed
enough sugar to keep a cane farm in business for a while. She was wound up, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever get her in the bath, much less to sleep.
“I don’t know, Squirt,” I admitted. Since he’d been the one who asked that we talk about what happened, I’d taken for granted that he’d jump at my offer. But he hadn’t, saying he had to go home and play nice with his sisters. I shuddered at the thought, because time had changed them, too. On some level, I understood the animosity Lucia showed for Peter because both of us were the children with the passion to run our respective family businesses but both of us had been passed over. At least, in my case, the business hadn’t folded. But now wasn’t the time for her to punish her brother for deviating from the plan his parents created for him.
“Daddy, I told you I hate that name!” she yelled from the opposite end of the hall. I followed the noise, pinching the bridge of my nose, trying in vain to stave off the headache building behind my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Tinkerbell,” I apologized, emphasizing her preferred nickname. “Now, can you please grab your pajamas while I fill the tub?”
I’d been so busy today focusing on making sure the kitchen ran smoothly so Silvio Agnelli wouldn’t storm in, telling me how much of a disgrace I was or how we’d never be as good as Papa, I hadn’t given myself a moment to think about the emotional weight of the day. I’d never particularly cared for Silvio, but his wife was a good woman. My heart ached for Peter because he’d left before Mrs. Agnelli developed a backbone and started standing up for her kids rather than cowering when her husband spoke. Mama said it was because she’d already lost one child to her cowardice and wasn’t willing to lose another. Who knew if that was true, but she was the only reason Maria had fared as well as she had.
I slumped down next to the tub after setting the water and adding bubbles, resting my head in my palm. It would’ve been so easy to close my eyes for just a minute, but Sophia came bounding into the room, long Tinkerbell nightgown in hand. Because of course it’d be that one.
She proclaimed she was a big girl and didn’t need my help with her bath, so I stretched my legs out in front of me. Someday, she’d understand that my hovering wasn’t because I saw her as an incompetent child, but because she was my entire world and I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her. As she soaped up a washcloth and cleaned herself, she asked me more questions about Peter. The fact she insisted on calling him Peter Pan grated on my nerves, but she was coming from a place of innocent fascination, unlike the assholes who used to pick on him in school.
My phone rang, but I let it go to voicemail since answering it would mean leaving Sophia alone in the bathtub. No sooner had the alert chimed that I had a new message when the phone rang again. “Daddy, you better get that. It could be important.”
“It’ll wait.” I had set ringtones for my brothers, Mama, and even Angela in case she suddenly remembered she had a daughter, not that I expected to hear from her. The ascending chimes echoing through the house now were my generic tone for those who weren’t in my contacts list. When the phone rang a third time, I held out a towel for Sophia and scooped her into my arms. She could dry off and get dressed in the bedroom, then I’d brush and braid her hair while we watched TV.
After relaying my plan to her, I picked up the phone and checked my call log. They were all from the same number with an area code I didn’t recognize. Before I checked the lone voicemail, it rang again. Whoever it was, they were persistent bordering on annoying.
“This is Freddie,” I answered. A pit formed in my stomach, briefly scared that it was someone calling to tell me something had happened to Angela. Although there was zero love lost between me and my ex-wife, I couldn’t bear breaking Sophia’s heart yet again.
“Hey, it’s Peter.” His voice was shaky, and he sounded like he was struggling to catch his breath. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if your offer still stands for Maria and me to come over there for a bit.”
He spoke so fast his words ran together, making me wonder what in the hell was going on. Right then, I didn’t give a shit about anything that happened in the past or how awkward our reunion had been, it was obvious something was wrong and I didn’t hesitate with my answer.
“I’m putting Sophia down right now, but absolutely.” What came next, however, shocked the hell out of me. “If you need, pack a bag and you guys can crash here.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to put you out,” he responded. I heard his sisters screaming at one another in the background, followed by a door slamming.
“Peter, it’s not a problem. I have the spare room and Sophia can crash in my bed.”
“I get to sleep in here?” Sophia squealed as she struggled to yank her nightgown over her head. “Does that mean I can watch Return to Neverland before bedtime?”
“Fine, go get the disc.” Tonight was about crisis management, and it wouldn’t kill anyone to let her fall asleep to a movie just this once. Once she scurried out of the room, I was able to turn my attention back to Peter. “Seriously, if you’re not sure, pack a bag just in case. It sounds pretty intense over there.”
“Yeah, well, just another day in the Agnelli house.” He let out a long sigh. “I forgot how noisy this place was.”
“Put it in!” Sophia demanded, shoving the DVD case into my free hand. I quirked an eyebrow at her and grimaced. It only took a second for her to realize her mistake. “Please Daddy, can you start the movie?”
“Listen, I have to get Sophia settled, but at least think about my offer. Neither of you need to deal with fights right now.” Peter grunted, which was Peter-speak for he’d think about it.
I spent the next half hour roaming around the house trying to find everything that was out of place. There wasn’t much, but I needed something to keep my mind from obsessing over what in the hell could be going on at the Agnelli house that had Peter calling me in a near-panic. No matter how much time had changed both of us, there was no mistaking the careful control he was trying to maintain. As kids, he’d always worked to keep the outside world from knowing how difficult it was living with his father.
I cursed when the doorbell blared, announcing their arrival. Angela had insisted on the ridiculously loud contraption and I’d agreed, at a point when I’d been willing to give her anything she wanted in hopes she’d stay. Sophia came bounding down the stairs, pillow mark creasing her face. “Daddy, did Peter Pan come to see us? It’s just like the movie, when he comes in late at night after everyone’s sleeping.”
“His name is Peter,” I corrected her. “And you’re supposed to be in bed.”
She followed me to the front door. “I was, but then the doorbell rang and it woke me up.”
“I’m sorry, honey. I should have told them to not ring it,” I apologized. Normally, I was good about that.
“So it is Peter Pa—I mean, Peter?” Her little chest puffed out, proud of herself for remembering what I’d just told her.
“Yes honey, Peter and Maria are here.” She squealed with delight as I opened the door. Peter looked stunned when she clamped her arms around his legs, keeping him from stepping into the house. “Sorry, she’s excited you’re here.”
“Awww, looks like you have an admirer,” Maria teased. She crouched down so she was eye-level with Sophia. “What about me, kiddo? I thought I was your favorite person?”
“Yeah, but I’m Tinkerbell and this is Peter Pan and we’re going to be best friends,” Sophia proclaimed. “Plus, he doesn’t have a mommy anymore and that makes him just like me.”
Sophia was oblivious to the emotional bomb she’d just ignited. Tears began streaming down Maria’s face and she excused herself to the bathroom. She babysat Sophia often enough she knew her way around the house, so I gave her some space.
Sophia looked horrified, her little face scrunched up as she looked to me for guidance. I took her in my arms and invited Peter inside. “Squirt, I told you Peter is Maria’s brother, didn’t I?”
&nb
sp; “Uh huh.” She rested her head on my shoulder, reaching up to tug at her dark brown curls that were already a tangled mess. It’d be impossible to get the snarls out if I didn’t brush and braid it now.
“Peter, the kitchen’s to your right and the living room is on the left,” I told him as I walked to the base of the stairs. “Help yourself to whatever’s in there. I need to run up to get a brush for this one’s hair.”
“Okay. Do you think I should go check on Maria?” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“Give her some time alone,” I suggested, biting back the reminder that he’d been gone a long time and she was a little kid when he left. She needed time to get used to having him around again. Except he wasn’t sticking around. As soon as it was possible, I fully expected him to be on a plane back to his real life where he didn’t have to think about anything but himself.
“Daddy, can I stay with Peter? I don’t want him being all alone right now.” Sophia batted her eyes at me and I caved. As soon as I set her on the floor, she took Peter’s hand and led him into the kitchen, where I heard her conning him out of a juice box. More sugar was the last thing she needed, but I stopped myself from telling her it was too late for anything but water when I heard Peter laugh at something she’d said. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard that sound from him, even before everything went wrong.
By the time I got back downstairs, Peter was sitting with his back against the arm of the couch, Sophia in front of him. With nothing but his fingers, he’d managed to work through the tangles. Instead of backing away so I could take over, he held out his hand for the brush and elastic. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Nope, but I want to,” he told me without looking up. “There’s something calming about the rhythm of braiding hair.”
