Mark groaned and rubbed his forehead. “Seth? Can you put a muzzle on him or something?”
Seth burst out laughing. “Oh, Mark… Sorry, that’s not gonna work.”
Domenico only noticed Angelica was eating his hair when he tried to put her down. He ducked out of sight with a scowl, only to emerge with one that was even bigger. “What’s on your mind? And why are you alone? I mean, nice sheep, but that’s not exactly the company I expect you to keep at Easter.”
Mark shook his head with a smile and moved the phone to show more of the field, and the house in the distance. “Nice, isn’t it? But I’m guessing you already know this address, and you’ve seen the house on Google Maps? I’m outside, hoping to catch Charlotte for a chat one-on-one.”
Domenico’s face was no longer animated. It froze like concrete obscuring dead bodies forever. “She better not tell anyone what happened. Make sure she still remembers I am watching her.”
“She never talked, and she won’t. But I hope we understand each other that I’m handling this and no more meddling is needed?” Talking to Domenico this way instantly pulled Mark back to times when the decisions in his life had been about life and death, not which chocolate egg to choose. He didn’t exactly miss that, but it was a good reminder that he could never relax to the point of being careless. That knowledge kept him sharp.
“Dom’s learned his lesson. Haven’t you?” Seth leaned over and kissed the side of Dom’s head.
Domenico rolled his eyes like an annoyed teenager. “I won’t do anything until I have to, but that girl needs to grant you access to your son. If you can’t make it happen, we will have to intervene.”
Mark sucked on the cigarette so hard he burned it up all the way to the filter. “I will make it happen. It’ll just take some time. It’s crazy how much he’s grown even in the two months I haven’t seen him.”
Domenico briefly looked to the side when Angelica happily yelped somewhere, but he very soon looked back into the camera. “Why don’t you just take Charlotte on a trip to Argentina? We’d like to meet our grandson, and Angelica should also know her nephew.”
Mark snorted. “Yeah, like that’s gonna happen. Charlotte is never going to South America again. And with me on top of that? She hates my guts.”
“Oh, come on! Just make it happen. I know you can be persuasive.”
Seth wiggled his eyebrows in the background, mixing something in a pot over the stove. “Like that time you talked Sara out of her pants.”
Mark grinned at the memory and threw the cigarette butt to the ground. “I’m a reformed man now.”
“Look at him,” Seth said, “all grown up, living with a boyfriend, finishing school.”
Domenico shook his head. “Everything okay on that front? Is he still fine with the fact that you have a kid with his sister?”
Mark pouted. “Why you gotta make it weird? He’s fine with it. He understands. Because he’s lovely, supportive, and sweet. And yes, it’s going great. He’s the best.” Better than best in fact. He was an angel, and every night, Mark cuddled up to him and kissed his wings.
Seth whistled. “Someone’s getting defensive.”
Domenico smirked, staring at Mark. “He just likes babies. Sweet and defenseless, like puppies.”
“Not getting any better on the ‘making it weird’ front. He’s eighteen, okay? Not that much younger than me, so the two of you can back off about this. And yeah, he’s cute. I like cute. It’s so chill. No unnecessary drama.”
Domenico looked at Seth, and some kind of understanding passed between them. In Mark’s experience it could mean something very good or very bad. “We need to meet him. Why don’t you come over in the summer?”
Mark took his time considering this proposition. Such a trip would most likely end up with some arguments, fallout, someone offended, someone hurt. But then again, Griffith was bound to meet Mark’s dads sooner or later, so maybe it would be good to just rip off that bandaid.
“Maybe. But you know, when you were nice to him last time, to pull all that intel out of him, he got the idea that you’re actually, you know, nice. We all know you can’t keep up that act forever.”
Seth laughed even harder. “Ooh, buuurn, Dom! The kid’s a smartass when he’s on the other side of the ocean.”
Domenico spread his arms wide. “Me? I can be very nice. I can be the perfect gentleman to your boy. You two could bring Allen with you.”
Mark shrugged. It sounded great on paper, but he was doubtful anyone could convince Charlotte or her parents to entrust Allen to Griffith and Mark for such a big trip. “I mean, he is Allen’s uncle/brother, and there’s still a few months to go. Maybe things will get smoothed out by then.”
Domenico rubbed his hands and briefly smiled at Seth. “Don’t children sometimes disappear on vacation?”
Mark’s eye went wide. “Fuck me! You’re just the worst, you know that? The. Worst.”
Seth bit back a smile. “I mean… it’s true, Mark. Shit happens.”
That was it. Those two really were worthy of one another.
Domenico spread his arms. “I want to be in touch with my grandson. Is that a crime?”
“No, but kidnapping is. Anyway, I can hear a car. I think Charlotte’s coming. Have a nice Easter and feed Angelica lots of chocolate, okay?”
Domenico swallowed and raised his hand as if he wanted to stop Mark from hanging up. “Can you call us later, so that we can see him?”
“I’ll make it happen. He totally has my eyes,” Mark said, and just the ability to say that was like an injection of pride straight into his heart.
But when Mark spotted the black roof of the approaching car, he disconnected and stood in the middle of the road.
The dark beige Mini Cooper emerged from between the trees, evidently slowing down when the driver—Chris—spotted Mark, only to suddenly come to a halt, as if something invisible emerged right in front of it when Charlotte grabbed his arm. Mark started toward the vehicle, waving at them, as if his presence was perfectly normal.
Charlotte sank deeper into her seat, but Chris smiled and gave a small wave, as if they were acquainted. Ah, Chris. So polite. Was he everything Charlotte had ever wanted? Was he on the rowing team at university?
“Hey,” Mark said once Chris rolled down the window. “Would you mind if I stole your fiancée for a sec?”
Chris glanced between Mark and Charlotte, his face losing some of the polite smile, so Mark quickly filled in. “I’m Griff’s boyfriend.”
“Yeah, sure. That okay, Charlie?” Chris asked as he shook hands with Mark. Even his grip was considerate, nothing like the dominant handshakes Domenico had taught Mark.
Charlotte licked her lips and straightened up in her seat. She looked lovely with her hair in gentle waves and soft makeup that stressed her youthful beauty. Regardless of her recent actions, Mark still felt a pinch of nostalgia whenever they met. Even though he hated her sometimes, she was still the first person he’d been ready to fight for.
“Yes... it’s about a surprise for Griff, isn’t it?” she asked flatly.
Mark nodded. “Yep.” Funny how around Chris she always seemed nicer and less inclined to cause a scene.
“I’ll be with you in a bit,” Charlotte told Chris and gave him a kiss on the cheek before leaving the car.
He waved at her a final time before driving off toward the parking area between the trees. Charlotte stood still next to Mark, hands down the pockets of her coat. She only spoke once her fiancé’s vehicle was out of sight. “You’ve got to have everything, don’t you? I don’t understand why you insist on destroying my family.”
Mark crossed the road to reduce distance. “I don’t want a war with you. I can see your life’s all peachy. All I want is to be in touch with my kid.”
Charlotte sniggered, shifting her weight as if she wanted to walk toward her home. “Isn’t it enough that you’re touching my little brother and seeping poison against me into his ear?”
Wh
en she finally made up her mind about walking, Mark followed, with new determination coursing through his veins. Spending the morning with Allen had only reinforced the need to set things straight. Once and for all. He’d done things few people would have stomached, and he would not be isolated from his own flesh and blood.
“Griffith is very happy where he is, I assure you.”
“Oh, I bet he is. For now. We’ll see how he feels once he finds out the truth about you.”
Mark looked back toward the house to make sure no one was looking and grabbed her arm. “Does Chris know the truth about Allen?”
Charlotte froze, her shoulders curling so rapidly the obvious display of fear made Mark let go. How was he to handle this without breaking his own morals?
She opened her mouth and stepped away. She only spoke once there was enough physical distance between the two of them. “He knows I am his mother. Why?”
“You want me to go the DNA test route or something? This is not a joke to me, Charlotte. I mean it. Like it or not, I’m part of your family.”
Her pretty lips pursed before revealing white canines that now looked surprisingly spiky. “You wouldn’t dare. If you tell anyone, I will inform the police of what really happened back in Colombia!”
Enough was enough. Mark was done taking bullshit. He approached her in two fast strides and made a point of breaching her personal space. “Are you sure you want to do that? You are only safe because your lips stay shut. Do you want to find out what Domenico would do if he knew you even considered wielding threats like this? I might have a soft spot for you, but the only thing he cares about is his grandson, so think very carefully about what you will say next.”
Charlotte went gray and swayed slightly, as if her legs couldn’t support her weight. “Are you... threatening the mother of your own child?”
“Only if you get in my way.”
Charlotte shut her mouth and swallowed, watching Mark as if he were standing over her with a bomb. “I’m not keeping you away. It’s only fair I also have conditions, and there’s only been one: leave my brother alone.”
The tension was a physical presence in Mark’s muscles, but he would not back down on this. “Only way I’m leaving him alone is if he chooses to dump me. Which, I assure you, isn’t happening any time soon.”
“So you have no mercy for us? You’re just going to destroy everything if I don’t do what you want? You are a vile human being,” Charlotte said, with her tone gradually dropping.
Mark kept his own level and looked into her eyes, feeling much calmer now that he was getting to her. “I promise you I will never hurt neither Allen nor Griffith. I protect my family.”
“You will never be my family,” she growled before rushing off toward the house, without as much as looking back to see if he followed.
But he did, at a distance to give her space, but he wouldn’t leave. He could smell weakness from a mile away, and she reeked of it. Even if it took another few months, Mark would eventually see Allen on a regular basis—with or without her presence.
The conversations Griffith had with his parents while Mark was away couldn't have been pleasant if the relieved smile he had for Mark was anything to go by. But now Mark was here, and so was Chris, which meant everyone would be on their best behavior.
The dining table had been moved to the conservatory, which was a fantastic idea, since Mrs. Elswood’s flowers were already blooming in the garden. The glass walls ensured everyone was warm yet their translucence created the impression of eating al fresco.
The gathering was small and intimate enough for Griffith’s parents to cook and serve the food themselves instead of employing staff for the occasion. Once everyone was seated though, the tension in the air became so dense Mark felt like the chocolate egg display in the middle could start cracking any minute. He and Charlotte were the only ones at the table who had the complete perspective on the mess that had started over three years ago in Colombia, so Mark made sure not to stare at Allen so much, but after being away from him for over two months, he found if difficult to ignore his flesh and blood.
The boy was unnervingly cute with his pink cheeks, curly hair and funny faces, and remained the only person completely oblivious to the odd atmosphere. And since he was at the age when he wanted to ask innumerable questions about every single thing he laid his eyes on, the moments of silence felt a little less awkward.
On the upside, Griffith sat next to Mark, and they were free to touch legs under the table, as if everything was perfectly fine, and no pent-up resentment hung in the air.
At least the food was delicious.
“Are these eggs local? My dad used to have chickens, and those were the best eggs I ever had,” Mark tried, but it felt like hitting his forehead against a wall of indifference.
Mrs. Elswood’s mouth stretched only as much as politeness required, and not a fraction of an inch more. “Yes, I get them at the farmer’s market every other Sunday.”
Chris smiled at Mark across the table, “Me and Charlotte often have our Saturday lunch at the farmer’s market close to our home. There’s this fantastic Indian stall there. They use no artificial ingredients. Inexpensive and so good. Maybe the four of us could meet there for lunch sometime?”
Charlotte’s lips thinned, and she must have touched him out of sight, because Chris’s smile faltered, and he cleared his throat. “At some point. Everyone is so busy now.”
Mark used to put down Chris in his mind a lot, but maybe it was because of resentment. If anything, he now felt kinda sorry for the guy. Chris was perfectly nice, and sensing the tension even tried to bring Charlotte and her brother together. It said something about the guy’s character.
Mark nodded and nudged Griff with his elbow. “Yeah, someday. Griff loves all that organic, local, ethically sourced stuff.”
Griffith smiled at him so sweetly it wiped away all of Mark’s lingering thoughts about Charlotte’s behavior. “Yes, we try to eat well. Mark makes this fantastic breakfasts.”
“Nan,” Allen said to Mrs. Elswood, moving about in his chair as if he physically couldn’t sit still. “How is eggs breakfast, but pancakes are breakfast too?”
Mark smiled, unable to tear his eyes away from Allen’s inquisitive expression. The few times that he’d been allowed around him, he noticed that Allen’s vocabulary was quite advanced for his age, and it made him proud that maybe his genes played a part in it.
Mrs. Elswood stalled and thought about it for a while. It was painfully obvious that even though it was Charlotte’s parents who raised Allen, they were still very much the grandparents. “Hard to say, sweetie.”
Mark leaned over to the boy and winked. “It’s ‘breakfast’ if it’s in the morning, but I’m confused about a lot of things all the time. Griffith still has to teach me about this stuff, and I’m twenty-one. I mean there’s a biscuit, there’s a cookie, there’s a scone… How do you tell one from the other, right?”
Mrs. Elswood, who’d only had sulfuric smiles for Mark so far, now seemed more genuine. “You are very good with children.”
Griffith beamed, as if the compliment were directed at him. “Mark has a sister around Allen’s age.”
Even Mr. Elswood finally looked up at Mark with resigned politeness. “That’s nice.”
Mark took that as encouragement. “I’ve always wanted to have a big family.”
Charlotte abruptly tossed her napkin on the table. “He’s good with Allen, because it’s his kid. Happy? Now everyone knows!” She glared at Mark, ignorant of Chris leaning away from her with his mouth open.
An earthquake would have affected the mood less drastically.
Mrs. Elswood took a good few seconds to recover, and it was for the better because Mark’s head was empty too. “Is this true?” she choked out in the end.
Next to Mark, Griffith went stiff, but he didn’t hesitate and curled his hand on top of Mark’s where everyone could see it. “How can you be so inconsiderate of everyone?” he asked h
is sister, pinning her with his gaze from across the table.
“Me? I am inconsiderate? It’s you who dates him, even though you’ve known about this for a long time now!”
Chris, who at this point was white as the icing on the cake in the middle, pointed his hand at Mark. “He is the guy you had Allen with? And you didn’t tell me?”
Charlotte shot up, slamming her dainty fingers against the table so hard the cutlery jangled. “I don’t owe you every single detail from my past. I thought we had established that much already.”
Chris leaned back, touching his chest. “Don’t you think you could have told me beforehand? I—I don’t know what to say.”
Mrs. Elswood gave a helpless, dramatic sound that seemed to come straight from her chest and resonated in the bright room even when she covered her face. “Oh, my God... we are a family from the Jeremy Kyle show!”
Charlotte raised her hands, as if she were about to pray to the heavens. “Sorry, Mum. But I just can’t deal with this right now.” She walked off without another word, and Chris was quick to get up too.
“I’m sorry, I’ll go talk to her,” he said, but still looked back at Mark with his eyes wide. The friendly facade was gone.
Mark’s heart rattled like crazy, but Allen’s distressed frown drew him in. “Hey, it’s okay, don’t be scared.”
Griffith chewed on his lip and pointed at the display of Easter sweets. “Do you want to break the big chocolate egg already and see what’s inside?” he asked the boy.
Mr. Elswood licked his lips and poured himself some port, which he drank in one gulp. “Good idea. How about you take him somewhere else, Griffith?”
Griff’s lips remained open. “Oh... no, I meant here. I can help Allen with the egg here,” he said, standing up and reaching for the largest egg, which had a beautiful red sheen to it.
Mark was endlessly grateful, because as much as he believed he could handle Griff’s parents, stay alone with them seemed comparable to getting strapped to a chair and having a flashlight pointed at his eyes.
Mark swallowed, fighting through the sensation of hot and cold needles piercing the skin of his nape. “So… that cat’s out of the bag. I wanted to leave disclosing this up to Charlotte. I can see she’s made up her mind.”
A Breath of Innocence Page 36
