by Linda Turner
“Are you kidding? Of course I’m not going anywhere. I want to see your face when you finish. Trust me, you’ll have this done in nothing flat.”
Fifteen minutes later, he finished the last problem. “Yeah!” he crowed, punching the air above his head with a fist. “I never did my homework this fast before. Sometimes it seems like it takes hours and hours, and I still don’t know what I’m doing. Thanks, Ms. Fitzgerald.”
“Lily,” she replied, smiling. “You can call me Lily. I’m glad I could help. It was fun.”
“Can you teach my dad to do this so he can help me next time? This was so cool.”
He was so excited, Lily had to laugh. “You’re so funny. Of course I can teach your dad, if you like. But I think it would be easier if you just dropped by my place whenever you have a problem Tony can’t help you with.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“No, of course not. I should warn you, though, that I might not always be home,” she added. “I’m a photographer, so I’m out a lot in the afternoons, taking pictures.”
“You make money taking pictures?”
Amused by his wide-eyed expression, she laughed. “Sometimes. I’m still getting started, but it’s starting to pick up. I have a couple of pictures in a gallery, and as soon as I get a new camera, I’m going to start doing some work for Angelo.” She nodded toward the wall across from their table. “That entire wall is going to be filled with pictures of customers. Before too much longer, you’ll be up there yourself.”
“Really? And my dad, too? Cool!”
She had to agree. “It is going to be pretty cool. I’m looking forward to it. I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Maybe I’ll ask for a camera for Christmas,” he said eagerly, suddenly taken with the idea. “I wanted a PlayStation, but a camera would be better. Then I could do the same thing on my bedroom wall that you’re doing here. Wow, that’d be great! Could you teach me how? Then it wouldn’t matter where I had to live, I would still feel like I was at home.”
Puzzled by that statement, Lily almost asked him what he meant, but his mood had changed, and there was a pain in his eyes that she recognized from her own childhood. “Of course I could teach you how,” she said quietly. “I’m going to set up a darkroom in my laundry room, so if you use black-and-white film, I can also show you how to develop it. Now, that’s fun.”
“Really? You mean it? You’re not just saying that? That’d be so cool! My friends at school aren’t going to believe it. I’ve got to go call them.”
He started to run to the kitchen, only to remember his manners. Before Lily could even suspect his intentions, he threw himself into her arms for a giant hug. “Thank you, Lily!”
“You’re welcome,” she said huskily, hugging him back.
“This is going to be so much fun. I’ve got to go tell Uncle Angelo and call my friends. Maybe he can convince my dad to buy me a camera.”
He was off like a shot, hopping and skipping and jumping as he disappeared through the swinging door into the restaurant kitchen. Grinning, Lily followed at a slower pace, gingerly favoring her knee. “Thanks for the meal, Angelo,” she told him, holding up the leftovers he’d put in a container for her. “It was delicious, as usual.”
“It was my pleasure,” he told her. “If you need anything, just call.”
Carefully making her way back upstairs, Lily let herself into her apartment and was immediately enveloped in silence. Normally, that wouldn’t have bothered her—she’d lived alone for years—but as the afternoon shadows grew long and evening approached, the loneliness of her existence weighed on her in a way it hadn’t in years. Did Tony know how lucky he was? she wondered. Granted, his son didn’t live with him, but he was in his life. After meeting Quentin and helping him with his homework, Lily knew that he had to bring Tony a great deal of joy. He was a fantastic kid.
And then there was Angelo. He not only worked with Tony and lived right across the hall from him, he was like a father to him. They might be uncle and nephew, but they shared an incredibly close relationship.
You have a father, too, a voice in her head pointed out. Call him. Maybe he’s feeling lonely, too, and will talk to you this time.
She was tempted, but she hesitated. She loved her father, and there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he loved her. His pride wouldn’t let him call her, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t make the first move and be the one to call. If she acted as if no harsh words had been spoken between them, she knew he would, too.
Until the subject of her career came up again.
She told herself he couldn’t help it. He was one of those men who naturally took charge of situations and people without even thinking about it. She knew that and accepted who her father was. That didn’t mean, however, that she could continue to accept his interference in her life. For no other reason than that, she couldn’t call him. It was a matter of principle. When he was ready to accept her and her choices in life, he would call her.
She didn’t fool herself into thinking it would be any time soon.
The dinner crowd was already starting to fill the restaurant dining room when Tony strode into the kitchen, pulling at his tie and looking more than a little irr. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he told his son, who was sitting on a tall stool at the end of the work island, eating a slice of pizza. “The trial ran long, and I didn’t get to testify until nearly five. Then, of course, I got caught in traffic. Has your mom called? I’ll help you with your homework as soon as you finish eating.”
Unperturbed, Quentin took another bite of his pizza. “It’s okay, Dad. I already finished my homework and talked to Mom. She said she didn’t have a problem with me staying late as long as I was home by nine.”
“Good. Then I’m going to run upstairs and change—” Suddenly realizing what Quentin had said, he stopped halfway to the door, frowning. “What you mean…you already finished your homework? What about your math?”
“Done,” he said with a flash of dimples. “And I got every single problem right. Mrs. Green’s going to be shocked.”
“Mrs. Green’s not the only one,” Tony retorted. Studying him through narrowed eyes, he couldn’t miss the fact that Quentin was feeling damn good about something. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen him look so happy.
“Okay, what’s up?” he asked suspiciously. “I know Uncle Angelo didn’t help you with your homework—”
“Hey!” Angelo said indignantly from the grill. “I could if I had to.”
“And I could be Columbo,” Tony told him with a grin, “but I’m not and you didn’t. So what’s going on, son? Just the other day, you told me you needed a tutor and now you’re doing your homework on your own and being pretty darn cocky about it? I’m sorry, but things don’t usually turn around that quickly. Spill your guts. Who helped you with your homework?”
Quentin exchanged a grin with Angelo, then said, “She’s the coolest lady, Dad! And she lives right here in the building. You know her…Ms. Lily Fitzgerald.”
For a moment, the name didn’t register. When it did, Tony blinked. “Do you mean Lily? Lily, the new tenant in 202, upstairs? She helped you with your math?”
His blue eyes twinkling, Quentin grinned. “Yep.”
“I see,” Tony said, his lips twitching. “And just how did this meeting with Lily come about? I didn’t even know you knew her.”
“I didn’t until this afternoon,” he replied. “But she was having lunch in the dining room when I came home from school and Uncle Angelo introduced me to her.”
“And then you asked her to help you with your math?”
“No! C’mon, Dad, I know better than that.”
Grinning at his son’s indignant tone, Tony reached over and ruffled his hair. “I’m just kidding. I know you wouldn’t just come out and ask a total stranger for help unless you were desperate.”
“I was desperate,” he confessed. “But she offered to help me when I told Uncle Ang
elo that I hoped you got home in time to help me with my because Mom really stinks at math and I didn’t want to ask Larry. That’s when she said she had a degree in accounting and would be happy to help me. She’s cool, Dad! Did you know she’s a photographer? She’s going to take some pictures of us and the customers for Uncle Angelo. And she said anytime I needed help with my math, I could knock on her door…as long as it was okay with you.”
“Well,” he said, surprised, “it sounds like a lot happened this afternoon.”
“So, can I ask her for help when I need it? Please, Dad? She’s better than Mrs. Green. And when she showed me what I was doing wrong, I finished my homework in fifteen minutes flat. It was awesome.”
Amazed, Tony couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his son so excited about homework. In fact, he’d shown little enthusiasm for anything since his mother had told him she was moving to Florida and taking him with her. What in the world had Lily said to him that had fired him up so much?
“I’ll talk to her,” he promised. “I’m sure she was serious when she made the offer, but I just need to make sure we don’t take advantage of her. You did thank her for her help, didn’t you?”
“Dad! I have manners.”
“I beg your pardon. I lost my head,” Tony said, biting back a smile. “Of course you have manners. That’s because your parents made sure you knew how to behave. Good manners—”
“Will take you a long way in this world,” Quentin said with him, grinning cheekily. “I know, Dad.”
“Monster child,” Tony said affectionately. “Just wait until you have kids. I’m going to remind you of this conversation one day and laugh my head off.” Smiling at the thought, he grabbed Quentin before he suspected his intentions and threw him over his shoulder. “Now that we’ve got that settled, it’s time to go upstairs, monster. Where’s your backpack?”
“By the door,” he laughed, hanging upside down over Tony’s back. “Wait, Dad!” he cried, still laughing as Tony strode across the kitchen. “I have to tell Uncle Angelo good-night.”
“Oh. You’re right. I forgot my manners.” Striding over to his uncle, Tony turned around, presenting his back…and his son. “Say good-night, Quentin.”
“Good night, Quentin.” Quentin giggled, grinning upside down at his uncle.
Laughing, Angelo said, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep tight, monster.”
His grin the replica of his son’s, Tony said, “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” and headed out the rear door of the kitchen with a giggling Quentin still hanging over his shoulder.
By the time Tony finished his own dinner and loaded Quentin and his backpack into his car to take him home, it was nearly nine o’clock. Beside him in the front seat, Quentin stared out at the darkened night and chatted absently about school. Tony couldn’t help but notice, however, that as they drew closer and closer to Janice’s house, his son grew quieter and quieter
When Quentin leaned his head back against the head-rest and closed his eyes, Tony thought he’d fallen asleep. Then he said, “Dad? Can I ask you something?”
Whenever Quentin spoke in that quiet, pensive tone, Tony’s protective instincts jumped into overdrive. Bracing for God knew what, he said easily, “Of course. I’ve always told you that you can ask me anything you like. Is something wrong?”
“No…not wrong, exactly,” he said, grimacing. “I was just wondering… I know Mom has custody and everything…”
When he hesitated, Tony knew where the conversation was headed and wanted to kick Janice for putting their son in such an untenable situation. If she would just do what he did and put Quentin and his needs first, all three of them would be a hell of a lot happier. But she wasn’t about to change—nothing mattered but what she wanted. The sooner he and Quentin accepted that, the less unhappy they would be.
“Yes, she does have custody,” he replied. “We talked about this. Because you were so young when we divorced, the judge felt it would be better if you lived with her.”
“But she’s going to make me move to Florida with Larry. Do I have to?”
Tony had never wanted to say no so badly in his life. But he’d never made his son a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep, and he wasn’t about to start now. He hated the idea of him moving to Florida, of him being there all alone except for a mother whose main priority was her career and a stepfather who made no secret of the fact that he didn’t like him. He wanted to grab his son and hug him and tell him there was no way in hell he was letting Janice or anyone else take him away, but he couldn’t. Because ultimately, it would be left to a judge to decide where Quentin would live.
Sickened by the thought that some stranger would have that kind of power over his son, he said huskily, “I can’t promise that you won’t have to go, but I want you to know that I’m doing everything I can to see that you’re happy. Okay? So try not to worry.”
He was asking the impossible—how could Quentin not worry about moving to another state with a stepfather like Larry? The man didn’t understand kids and made no effort to. As far as Tony was concerned, he was a self-centered, pompous bore who didn’t love anyone but himself. He would never understand what Janice saw in him…or how she could leave a son that she claimed to love in the care of such a jackass.
One day soon, he was going to ask her that, he promised himself as he arrived at her house to find the outside lights on and Janice waiting by the front window. The second he pulled into the driveway, she stepped outside and watched with a carefully blank expression as Tony walked Quentin up the front walk.
There’d been a time when Tony had thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world, but that was before she betrayed him with another man, before she became so ambitious that all she cared about was money and success and how she could have more of both. If he hadn’t had a child with her, they would have had nothing in common, and that twisted in Tony’s gut like a knife. How had it come to this?
“Sorry we’re late,” he said by way of a geting. “It’s been one of those days.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she replied. “Actually, I got home late, myself, so this works out for both of us. Have you got a minute? I need to talk to you.”
Tony stiffened. The last time she’d told him she needed to talk to him, she’d informed him that she was taking their son with her to Florida and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. All his senses on alert, he said, “All right.” Turning to Quentin, he gave him a quick hug. “Go in and go to bed, son. And remember what I said, okay?”
Worry knitting his forehead, Quentin looked back and forth between his parents, then nodded stiffly. “Okay, Dad. Good night.” Giving him a fierce hug, he turned to give his mother one just as fierce, then darted into the house.
With his leaving, silence fell between them like a rock. His arms crossed over his chest, Tony arched an eyebrow at her. “Well?”
“I was wondering if you could take care of Quentin after school for the next few weeks. I’ve got a lot of work I need to finish up at the office before I make the move to Florida, and Larry is flying to Miami tomorrow morning to find us a place to live. Tina can take care of him after school, but she leaves at five. I won’t come in until at least eight, and he shouldn’t be here alone.”
“Of course he can stay with me,” he said without hesitation. That should have been a no-brainer for her—if the choice was his son staying with him or a maid, the choice was obvious. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to rearrange my shift so that I’m home every afternoon for a two-week stretch, but if I’m not, he can always stay with Angelo at the restaurant until I get home.”
“Good,” she said, pleased. “I want to thank you for being so reasonable about this move, Tony. I know you’re not happy about it, but it’s the best thing for me and Larry, and Quentin will adjust. I’ll fly him home whenever you want to see him.”
Tony almost told her she could take her offer and stuff it, but he bit the words back just in time. No, he did
n’t want to antagonize her, he reminded himself. His attorney had warned him to guard his tongue around her—the last thing they wanted at this point was to give her advance warning she was about to be hit with a custody fight and a restraining order prohibiting her from taking Quentin out of the state. She’d find out soon enough, and when she did, Tony knew there’d be hell to pay. He had to admit he was looking forward to it. Quentin was his son, too, and it was about time she realized that he had as much say in his upbringing as she did, including decisions about where he lived. “I find it interesting that you think it will be best for you and Larry but not for Quentin,” he said coolly. “Doesn’t that bother you at all?”
“Like I said,” she replied with a shrug, “he’ll adjust. He’ll have to. He’s a child, Tony. He doesn’t get a vote. This is my life and my decision to make. I don’t know what you’re worried about, anyway,” she added with a frown. “It’s not like he’s one of those kids with social problems. He makes friends wherever he goes. He’ll do fine.”
She was so cavalier and unconcerned that Tony wanted to shake her. This wasn’t some kid dow the street they were talking about, this was their son, dammit. How could she care so little about his happiness?
Irritated, he growled, “I guess he’ll have to, won’t he? At least I get to spend as much time as possible with him before you take him away from me. I guess I should thank God for that, if nothing else.”
“It won’t be that bad, Tony,” she said stiffly. “Just give it a chance.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” he retorted. “You’re not the one losing him.” She didn’t argue with that, and that only angered him more. The discussion over as far as he was concerned, he said, “Good night, Janice. I’ll be happy to keep Quentin as long as you need me to.”
Returning to his car, he drove away without a backward glance, and for the first time since she’d told him she was taking his son away from him, he had no doubts whatsoever about fighting her for custody of their son. He didn’t doubt that she loved Quentin, but not as much as she loved her career. She would never put his needs before her own, let alone his happiness, and for no other reason than that, Tony knew Quentin belonged with him.
