Coming Home (Morelli Family, #6)
Page 24
Only Adrian doesn’t answer the door, Elise does. Her blonde hair is gathered in a pony tail, hanging over her right shoulder. She’s wearing pastel purple PJs with a print of a Teddy bear sleeping on a moon all over. She has the look of a Disney princess getting ready for bed; she’s only missing a few blue birds flying around her while she sings.
Her eyebrows rise and she looks decidedly put out as her gaze rakes over me and every ounce of sweetness drains out of her eyes.
“Can I help you?”
I was so caught up in the scene I’d just stumbled upon, I didn’t even realize I’m not dressed. A short, satin robe is not exactly an outfit, and it’s really not something I would wear alone around anyone except Mateo.
And I just showed up on her doorstep looking for Adrian.
Flushing, I open my mouth, searching for an explanation. Despite living in the same house, and despite Mateo and Adrian’s relationship, Elise and I aren’t friends. Me showing up looking for her husband wearing a flimsy bathrobe probably isn’t going to go very far in changing that.
Before I can find words, a small crash beyond her catches my attention. Adrian is sitting in the floor with Westley. They were building a tower of Mega Bloks and it just fell down.
Westley gasps theatrically and points at the mess of rainbow-colored plastic blocks. “Oh no!”
Adrian smiles at him, but then glances up at me in the doorway.
My stomach sinks more, and I’m not even sure why.
Forcing my gaze away from Adrian and his son, I look back at Elise. “Never mind. I’m sorry I bothered you.”
Elise wordlessly lifts her eyebrows and drops them, as if to assure me that yes, I did bother her, and she does not accept my apology. Glancing behind her, she flashes Adrian and Westley a smile, then looks back at me. “I’ll walk you out.”
Her tone is suspiciously friendly for someone who’s giving me the look she’s giving me, but I nod and back away as she steps out in the hall, pulling her door closed. She falls into step beside me and walks me toward the stairs.
“Listen, Mia. I don’t know what your deal is, I know you and Mateo have a weird relationship, but that’s your situation. I’m sure it’s not always easy and I know Adrian has to deal with you on a professional level, but let me be very clear.” She pauses so she can look me dead in the eye. “If you ever come looking for my husband half-dressed again, I will rip your head off your shoulders.”
Shaking my head apologetically, I assure her, “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t mean to—I didn’t realize I wasn’t dressed. I wasn’t thinking, I just—”
Elise doesn’t care, so she interrupts. “Well, next time, think.”
I don’t bother trying to explain myself further, I just nod my head. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t.”
With that, she turns around in her Teddy bear pajamas and heads back to her life. Her life is so uncomplicated. I envy the simplicity—a husband who loves only her, an adorable baby they know is his…
Lofty aspirations, I realize.
Chapter Twenty Eight
Mia
I’m feeling even worse by the time I get downstairs. On top of being miserable over Meg and Mateo’s little whatever-the-fuck, now Elise had to go and make me feel like a whorebag. I understand I’m a little underdressed, but I wasn’t there to try to fuck her husband; I just wanted to get away with the only friend I’m allowed to have.
Maybe I’ll see if Alec’s home. Occasionally Mateo lets Alec guard me, though not often. He seems most comfortable having Adrian do it, but that’s obviously off the table tonight.
I’ll have to put some clothes on first. Probably don’t want to show up at Alec’s bedroom door in a short satin robe. I’m already possibly pregnant with someone else’s baby, and he’s spending his downtime with Meg, so I probably don’t want to give Mateo any suspicions that I’m trying to jump ship.
I sigh, sad and alone. Maybe I’ll just go back to the bedroom alone. Bella’s in bed now and Mateo will come in eventually. Maybe I should just go to sleep so I don’t have to see him when he does.
When I get to the end of the hall, I’m surprised to see Maria in the kitchen. She’s just as surprised to see me.
“Do you need something?” she asks me.
I shake my head, absently wrapping my bathrobe more snugly around my waist. “I was just looking for Adrian.”
Her eyebrows rise as she blatantly appraises my outfit of choice.
I nod, rolling my eyes. “Yes, I know. Elise already yelled at me. I wasn’t thinking about what I was wearing, okay? Mateo…” I trail off, shaking my head. “It doesn’t matter. I just didn’t have anyone else to talk to.” Saying it aloud brings on a surge of irrational, out-of-nowhere tears to my eyes.
Maria’s face softens slightly and she opens up the cupboard, pulling out a second mug and a box of tea packets. Wordlessly, she sets up a second one. I look at the stovetop and realize she was making herself some tea.
“Now that Cherie’s gone, I feel that way sometimes, too.”
I blink in surprise, but I move a little closer.
She doesn’t have to ask how I like my tea, since she’s so used to making it for me, but this feels different.
Maria goes on, “Adrian probably isn’t the best person to lean on. He’s a good man, but he’s a man all the same.” The disdainful look she gives me over her shoulder conveys her opinion of that gender. I almost smile, but then Ben surfaces in my mind. He’s probably the reason she feels that way about men. I’ve never heard her so much as mention his name, but I know enough.
I also realize, perhaps belatedly, that Maria is maybe the only person in this house who understands the position I’m in right now. I’m assuming the circumstances were much different, but there’s a commonality no one else has experienced.
“Can I ask you a question?” I ask her, tentatively.
“Yes,” she says, easily.
“It’s a personal question. You may not want to talk about it. I don’t want to upset you.”
“I’m an old woman, Mia. I see a lot. Not much upsets me anymore.”
I roll my eyes faintly. “You’re not old.”
Her lips curve up slightly. “I’m not young. What’s your question?”
"So, you know Vince took me off to Vegas, right?"
Her lips thin with disapproval and I feel even more awkward about bringing this up. I'm tempted to drop it altogether, but I haven't even made it to my questions yet. Maria nods, opening the drawer and drawing out a spoon. "Yes, I heard the men talking about it. Mateo was very upset."
That makes my stomach sink, too. I don't like to think of him upset. "Okay. So... that happened. And I'm not sure if you've heard or not, but I'm pregnant."
There must be enough hesitation in my voice that she understands I'm not sharing this news in hopes of a congratulations. The spoon clanks against the ceramic as she drops it and turns to face me, crossing her arms and waiting.
"But it's possible Mateo may not be the father." Even though her expression hasn't changed, I feel the need to defend myself, I just don't know how. "Not because... I didn't want to... But Vince…"
Maria sighs, nodding her understanding.
I shake my head, averting my gaze. "So, anyway, Vince may be the baby's father. Mateo isn't happy about it." I hesitate again, searching her for some reaction, but her expression hasn't changed. "He doesn’t want this. I do. Normally Mateo and I are on the same side, but I'm worried that we can't get on the same side of this. You know Mateo, you know how traditional he is about stuff like this. I can't think of anyone less suited to this situation. Even Vince would've accepted it more easily, I think, but I don't know if a baby will appeal to the soft parts of Mateo. I mean, he's not a bad father, but... he's just not that man. He doesn't allow himself to be undone by his emotions."
Rocking her head to the side faintly, she tells me, "As a rule, no, but when you were gone he was strongly a
ffected. You're very important to him, Mia. I think losing you might undo him."
"He's not going to lose me," I say, absently touching the locket that still hangs around my neck.
Her gaze follows, and after a few seconds she says, "There's not just one way to lose someone. Mateo knows that. If he alienates you, he's a fool."
"Mateo isn't a fool," I reply, on instinct.
Nodding once, she says, "I agree. Meg is already giving him a boy, so he'll just have to accept he lost this one and move on."
Smiling a little disbelievingly, I ask her, "Does that sound like Mateo to you?"
"Stand your ground," she advises me, seriously. "Do it your own way, you know what works with him, but don't give him this one. You've given that man enough. It's his turn to give."
"That's not really how Mateo operates," I tell her.
Maria shrugs and turns to retrieve the kettle so she can prepare the tea. "I've been around most of his life. I know what he's like. If he can push you, he will. But he'll regret it later when you can't forgive him. When he sees the pain he caused you—again. Keep loving him, but make him understand Vince's or not, the baby isn't a threat to him, the only threat is if he tries to take this away from you."
My mind conjures images of him and Meg in the sitting room. "That's the problem, though. Mateo is used to getting a certain thing from me, and now this is in the way. I don’t know if I’m meeting his needs right now."
"You're a person, not a dispenser," she states. "If he loves you enough, he'll support you through this."
It makes my stomach hurt to even suggest, but I can't stop myself from voicing the real fear. "And if he doesn't?"
More brightly than expected, Maria states, "Then you're screwed." It startles a little laugh right out of me. She must have known it would, because she offers me a smile over her shoulder. "You like games?"
"Games?"
"Board games. I like Scrabble." Gesturing to a cabinet along the wall in the living room, she tells me, "Right over there. We'll play a game, make you feel better."
I bite back a smile, but I make my way over to the cabinet anyway. This place feels so quaint considering the giant house I'm accustomed to, but the floor plan is open so there's no wall between the kitchen, living room, and dining area. I take the Scrabble board over to the table and set it up. Maria finishes fixing our tea and brings it over, sliding a cup across the table in front of me. Placing a firm hand on my shoulder, she tells me, "I'm sorry Vince changed."
It doesn't make me feel better. It makes me feel worse. I thought Vince changed, too, but I saw peeks of his good heart underneath—it's just banged up now, and that's because of me.
"I think he just needs love," I tell her.
"You think everyone just needs love."
My gaze darts to the new voice in the room and I see Adrian walking toward the table.
I immediately begin shooing him with my hand. "Go back upstairs. Elise is going to kick my ass."
Now he smirks. Ignoring my protest, he pulls out an empty chair and drops into it. "She's giving Westley a bath. I've got time for a game."
Maria shakes her head and mutters something in Spanish.
"I'll go easy on you," Adrian promises.
Instead of appeasing her, that fires her up. "No, you will not," she says, shaking her finger at him.
"We're gonna beat you fair and square," I add. Total bullshit, but I say it anyway.
Maria nods in vigorous agreement.
Grimacing and scratching his jaw, Adrian says, "If I let you combine your scores against me, maybe."
I shake my head, dumping the letters out on the table. "Keep talking shit, Palmetto. I'm going to start reading the dictionary in my downtime to train for times like these."
“Do whatever you need to do,” he says, with exaggerated confidence. “I’ll still beat your ass every time.”
---
True to his word, Adrian soundly trounces us.
“Rematch!” I call.
“No, no, no.” Maria stands, waving me off.
“Come on, one more. We can beat him this time.”
Adrian smirks, grabbing a nacho and scooping up some salsa. He pops it into his mouth and shakes his head at me. “Keep dreaming.”
“Maria, come back.”
Maria shakes her head, bidding us good night. I guess I understand. She has to be up early in the morning, but I’m not ready to go back to the bedroom alone.
Sighing, my gaze drifts back to the board. A bit glumly, I start to put away the pieces.
“Go ahead and set it up one more time,” Adrian says.
I brighten. “Really?”
He nods his head. “I’ve still got all these chips to eat.”
“You’re the best,” I tell him, flashing him a smile. I put away Maria’s tray, but I push Adrian’s back over to him. When he reaches for it, I notice his knuckles are all busted up. “What happened to your hands?”
He cocks an eyebrow at my stupid question. “Knitting accident.”
I smile, cupping my hand over his tiles and moving them over in front of him. “I hope you were at least making something good.”
“You think I’d waste my time knitting something that’s not good?”
Since he clearly was not knitting, I ask, “What made you want to work for Mateo in the first place?”
He glances up at me, apparently surprised by the question.
I shrug. “I’ve never asked. I’m curious about you.”
“I didn’t want to. Got myself in a bad situation, met Elise, he offered me her freedom in exchange for five years of service… the rest is history.”
“Well, she’s really lucky. You’re a great guy.”
Adrian shakes his head, taking a sip of the beer he grabbed out of the fridge while Maria and I had our tea. “You’ve gotta stop that.”
“Stop what? Complimenting you?”
Adrian rolls his eyes at me. “What’d he do tonight?”
“I was not flirting with you,” I state, eyebrows rising. “Now you’re getting cocky. I wasn’t admiring your shoulders, I was just acknowledging that you’re a great guy and your wife is lucky. What’s so wrong with that?”
“My wife is crazy, and so is your husband, so it’s in your best interest to stop.”
“I wasn’t doing anything,” I mutter, a bit sulkily.
Nodding at the board, he says, “You can go first.”
I study my letters, then I put AFFIX on the board.
Adrian nods his head, grabbing the pen and recording my score. “Respectable.”
I’m feeling pretty proud of myself, so I talk some smack. “I’m gonna beat you this time. I can feel it in the air.”
Still smiling faintly, he puts some letters down. I expect him to make a bigger play, but he just spells out FORCE. Initially, I think he just has crappy letters, but a few turns later, he’s still making insignificant plays and missing strategic placement.
“Adrian Palmetto, you’re letting me win!”
As innocent as can be, he leans back in his chair. “What?”
“You wasted your triple letter score with an L. You’re gonna have to be a lot more subtle than that, buddy.”
“Maybe my brain’s just tired,” he suggests.
I point my finger at him, narrowing my eyes. “You better stop letting me win. How am I ever supposed to beat you for real if you throw the game?”
“You’re never going to beat me for real,” he states. “You’re almost as bad at this game as Elise. It’s sad.”
I grab a tortilla chip out of the bowl and throw it at him. He grins, picks it up, and scoops up some salsa, holding my gaze and eating it with relish.
I can’t help grinning at him across the table. Fondness for him is flooding me right now, so I feel the urge to share. “I know you don’t have a lot of competition, but you’re definitely my best friend tonight.”
“Best friend by default is kind of my thing.” Tipping back his beer, he takes a d
rink before asking, “Not feeling Meg tonight?”
Now I wrinkle up my nose, shaking my head. “No. She’s busy being Mateo’s friend tonight, apparently.”
“Is that right?” he asks levelly. His beer bottle thuds on the tabletop, but he sits up a little straighter. He’s been easy-going up until now, clearly off-duty, but I sense a shift in his posture now.
I nod. “They were all cozy in the red sitting room. She leaned her head on his shoulder and tried to feed him ice cream. I wanted to throw up.”
“She tried to feed him… ice cream?”
“Normally I’m the one who relaxes him, not her. And I’m not even sharing now! I shouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit.”
“Agreed,” Adrian says, nodding once. “He’s a dick.”
I don’t know why, but I didn’t expect his agreement. “He’s not a dick. He’s stressed out about the baby situation.”
Shaking his head, Adrian says, “God, you’re predictable.”
I frown at him, but he’s already talking again.
“I’ll talk to him. I really don’t think you have to worry about whatever you saw earlier. His world revolves around you. He’s marrying you. He would use Meg as a human shield to protect you. Vince’s bullshit isn’t going to change that; he’s just struggling with it right now. He’ll work it out. But in the meantime, he’s being a dick. He should be there for you right now, not off in his own little world, finding comfort somewhere else and driving you to my doorstep.”
I nod my agreement. “That would be nice.”
“Want me to punch him in the face for you?” he offers.
I laugh a little. “What?”
“At the gym tomorrow, I can punch him in the face. He definitely deserves a few jabs.”
I smile, shaking my head and pondering the letters on my tray. “No, I don’t want you to punch him in the face. I appreciate the offer, though.”
Nodding along, he says, “If you ever change your mind…”
I nod back, placing my Scrabble tiles on the board. “I’ll text you.”