by Bethany-Kris
Penny coughed out a laugh alongside muttering, “He says what?”
Cross rolled his eyes. “He says a lot of stuff. That one is right, though. The truth just is. Telling it sometimes hurts, or changes things, but it is still the truth. Right?”
“You see things in a very black and white way, don’t you?”
“Kind of.”
“Is it easier that way?” she asked. “Easier to understand why you get to be this way ... and everyone else is the way they are, too?”
Honestly curious, she waited for his reply.
The little boy blinked, surprise darting over his young face for a split second. “No one’s ever asked me that before.”
“No?”
“No.”
Penny shoved her hands into the pocket of her black windbreaker, telling him, “Maybe because they don’t know how—they can’t understand anyway.”
“Maybe. And it’s not easy. It just is.”
Penny didn’t point out how he said the same thing about the truth. Whether he knew it or not, yes, he did deal with his strange uniqueness in a yes or no, black or white manner because it was easier for him than delving deeper.
It showed his youth. Possibly one of the few things that did. What he lacked in actual age and experience, he simplified things down to just being.
Cross lifted his brow and smiled, a flash of arrogance showing in the action that almost had her laughing when he added, “But you still didn’t tell me why, and I didn’t forget.”
Smart kid.
In a lot of damn ways.
“Because I had to,” she said, knowing all too well it wouldn’t satisfy him, but it also wasn’t a lie. “I left because I had to.”
“That’s ...” Cross’s brow furrowed. “Well, why?”
“Because it was the right thing to do. The only thing I could do.”
“Do what, though?”
“Leave,” she replied.
Cross let out a huff, gaze narrowing in on her again with a new gleam. “I know what you’re doing.”
Penny grinned. “Yeah?”
“Saying the truth.”
“But?”
“Without details,” he said, defeated.
She only shrugged.
Fair was fair.
Her godson might have card tricks of his own—although being able to read people at his age was way more amazing than just a card trick—but she had a few, too.
Cross shook his head. “Uncle Luca told them you were different.”
That made her pause.
All over.
Penny turned to stone at just the mere mention of Luca. She had been content to come back to this place, say goodbye and hope, and then leave it all behind if that’s what came of her choices. She’d forced herself to stop thinking about the people she kept leaving behind, too. Sacrifices had to be made, after all.
That didn’t stop it from hurting.
Cross observed her in silent stillness, waiting for a reply from her that wouldn’t come. It couldn’t. “He likes you a lot, too.”
Penny’s throat flexed when she managed to ask, “What?”
“Uncle Luca. When people miss things—things that mean something—their eyes change. More distant. Like they’re looking at something far away. Something I can’t see. You did what he did when he told them he found you. But you did it now because I talked about him. See, same thing.”
This kid was ... something else.
She also couldn’t afford to stand there and keep talking to him even though every single molecule in her being wanted to do exactly that. He was amazing. It took a single conversation with the kid to realize just how much she had missed out on where he was concerned.
“I really should go,” Penny said, moving a step deeper into the forest. The same way she had come.
The shout from behind her made her next step hesitate.
“Cross! Get back to the house, son! Time to eat!”
14.
Luca
BEING ten minutes late wasn’t anything unusual for Luca, but tonight wasn’t the night for his tardiness, and he knew it. It was why he tried his very best to sneak out of the lecture for one of his college classes—he had dropped down to two classes a week that only required him to show up two days a week, the rest could be done online—but that hadn’t worked out. Instead, he ended up getting another lecture from the professor about the importance of education and wasting the time of others.
Like he needed to be told.
Again.
By someone else.
So, all his efforts to arrive early—if not on time—for his best friend and sister’s baby shower was for nothing. Because the world seemed to enjoy having a good laugh at Luca’s fucking expense. Every step forward he made was greeted with a kick right back in his former place.
Sort of.
No one seemed to notice Luca arriving late when he stepped inside the mansion where Roz and Naz’s families decided to have the party. He could also tell, just with a quick look at the people milling in the grand entry, that he wasn’t technically late. The quiet murmurs and the way people turned to stare his way expectantly only to shrug and go back to their conversations said the guests of the hour had yet to arrive.
So, he was on time.
Kind of.
But barely.
He recognized most of the faces—people from the Puzza side, but a lot from Naz’s family. Waving a hand to say hello to the people who called to him from across the entry, he didn’t bother with more. Heading into the coatroom, he shrugged off the tweed coat he’d thrown on over the blazer he managed to keep from getting wrinkled in the back of his car. Alongside the button-down and slacks he tossed in just for good measure.
He knew better than to show up wearing jeans and a hoodie. He didn’t go for the whole three-piece look for the baby shower, forgoing a tie and vest just because that shit hadn’t been specified. If he could avoid the whole suit and tie get-up, then he would by whatever means necessary.
Despite what men around him seemed to think about proper dress wear for people of their name and status, he just didn’t care. Or liked it all that much. Too confining for his tastes, honestly.
By the time Luca stepped out of the coatroom, the entry had cleared of guests. Well, mostly. A few remained but they were halfway in and out, standing on the threshold of the entry to the ballroom where he could already see the pale blue and white decorations hanging down from the high ceilings.
Balloon archways.
Tulle everywhere.
White lights, probably tall centerpieces on every table, and that was only the beginning. No one threw a party quite like their families did. Even Luca knew that—it was something they took pride in never mind the fact that very rarely did they invite event planners to help.
The women liked it, though.
And it always looked great.
Fixing the middle button on his blazer, Luca glanced up at the same time to see a familiar face making her way down one of two curving staircases in the grand entrance. Penny, that was.
In a black dress with long sleeves and a skirt that fell to her knees, the item hugged her form in all the right places. Even he noticed, not that he should. In his excuse, it was the first time he saw her in anything other than sweats or jeans, and an oversized hoodie. The dress was none of that.
She looked older.
The smile on her face helped, too.
She was smiling. Something she rarely did, although he did notice she was doing it more often lately.
Penny found him in the space, her smile stretching wider as she raised her hand to wave. He only nodded back, but it wasn’t her fault. The man approaching him from the side grabbed his attention, and it took every ounce of effort for Luca not to frown at the sight of his father.
Because Zeke was frowning.
“You’re late,” his father muttered coming to stand directly in front of Luca. Zeke folded his arms over his chest, the silver of his vest ma
tching the silk pocket square and tie. “You know tonight is important, Luca.”
“Are the guests of the hour here?” he returned easily.
He wasn’t doing this with his father. Not tonight.
Zeke pursed his lips. “No, and that only means you’re lucky.”
Lucky for what?
Avoiding yet another lecture?
Luca didn’t think so.
“Lecture ran late,” he explained. “I’m already behind on enough shit as it is; forgive me for trying to play catch up where I can.”
Zeke sighed, and opened his mouth to speak again. Luca knew, before the words even passed his father’s lips, what the man planned to say. It was the same shit he always said whenever his son dared to bring up the fact he was still trying where the law school thing was concerned.
A waste of time.
Wasting your potential.
Family ... family ... family.
“Is it time, Luca?” Zeke asked.
Luca’s brow dipped. “Time for what?”
“To make a decision. College or the family business?”
Ah, there it was.
“You have to figure out where your priorities are,” Zeke added, repeating the same thing with the usual tone-deafness that Luca had come to expect from his father when it came to things that were important to his son. “You’re spread thin ... it’s starting to show in little ways. You have to decide whether you want to be a lawyer or a made man. Hell, your mother and I haven’t even seen you in a month.”
“Why I can’t be both?”
Because that was all Luca heard in his father’s statements. That there was no option for both in his case. He could only be one or the other. The thing was ... he wasn’t big on being told no or what he could or couldn’t do. It only encouraged him to try harder in that respect.
Or to just do it for the hell of it.
Out of spite, even.
“Do you really think—”
“Has he been handling all of it?” came a new—but familiar—voice.
Luca hadn’t even noticed Cross’s approach until the man was right there, standing next to Zeke. Except, the boss of the Donati famiglia didn’t even bother looking his way. Instead, he stared at Luca’s father, waiting for the answer to the question he asked.
Zeke’s jaw flexed. “Cross—”
“Is he, friend?”
“I’m not sure I would say he’s handling it all ... or not well,” Zeke clarified. “He’s behind in every aspect.”
Ouch.
“Mostly school,” Luca admitted when Cross glanced his way. “Work, not so much.”
That was a priority. It had to be because people—like Naz—depended on Luca to be where they needed him to be when they wanted him there. He made sure his friend never had to wonder what he was doing. If he said he would do shit, then he was there to do it when he promised he would.
His word was everything.
Sometimes, it felt like it was the only thing he had left.
“So, he’s doing what he’s supposed to, then,” Cross said, shrugging when Zeke gave the man a look that voiced his displeasure silently. “He is, Zeke, by all accounts. As long as others aren’t suffering where he isn’t right on the ball, then you can’t say he’s hurting anyone but himself.”
“Maybe that is what I’m worried about. Did you consider that before you decided to step in on a private conversation between my son and I?”
Ah, shit.
Awkward.
Cross and Zeke stared one another down, years of friendship passing between the two quiet men as they considered each other. Even Luca knew they were having a conversation—one without words—that he wasn’t privy to. They had been doing this same thing for years. This wasn’t new.
Spinning the black onyx ring on his finger, Cross eventually broke the silence first, murmuring to Zeke, “I understand your frustrations—with me and him—but sometimes I don’t think you hear the damage you do with your words. They hear a lot more than they see or speak, Zeke. And if he hasn’t actually failed at managing the life he’s chosen, then you shouldn’t tell him he will before it’s even happened. You’re manifesting destiny. Let him hear it enough, and he’ll do exactly what you say he will.”
“Cross—”
“He’s not like the rest of them. He’s not Rosalynn, or Naz ... or me and you. He is him. Let him figure out what works for him,” Cross said, finally letting go of his ring to open his arms wide. “Even if it’s not the path you might have taken in his shoes. The same way we were allowed to do as young men. Fair?”
Zeke sighed, nodding once. “Fair.”
Was that ... it?
Cross moved to step away, but stopped only long enough to hear Luca say, “Thanks.”
Over his shoulder, the man replied, “Don’t mention it.”
Zeke’s gaze came back to Luca but before his father could say anything more, Katya and Catherine—Naz’s mother—came rushing into the entry.
“They’re coming—they’re at the gates!”
The guests of the hour had arrived, it seemed. Any family business could wait.
“CONGRATS, ROZ,” LUCA murmured against the top of his little sister’s head.
His sister beamed. For him, yeah, but also because the crowd gathered in front of the massive, beautifully decorated backdrop were taking pictures. Of them. The siblings, but also a million other shots, too.
With a variety of interchanging family, with the pregnant lady, or of the expectant father ... with his mother, her mother, and anyone else that decided to join in. Luca was about done with the pictures because he had done his part already and was told as much by Roz, but he’d do a few more.
For his sister.
Of course.
And hell, if she could stand there basically nine months pregnant for a million pictures, then who cared if his shoes pinched?
Roz swung around to hug Luca’s middle with a squeeze for the next picture, and he laughed before kissing her on the top of her head.
Her shampoo was still the same as it had been when they were teenagers. Strawberries and cream. He connected that scent—anywhere—to three things: family, love, and his sister. Despite being the older of the two, he could count on one hand the number of times Roz actually let him feel like her older brother. Maybe it was that singular year that separated the two, but it really did feel like they grew up together.
Staring down at his sister, Luca let out a slow breath before telling her, “At some point, you shot far ahead of me, huh? Went out and grabbed a career, and then started a whole family while I was ... when did I look away, Roz?”
Because shit ...
“Remember when we were still kids and when I started getting my own friends, you made me let you hang out with us because, as you said, ‘I gave you friends first!’ Or some shit like that. You weren’t wrong, though.”
Roz grinned, a line of wetness glistening in her eyes. “Don’t make me cry. You will never hear the end of it when they have to stop the pictures just to fix my makeup.”
“None of you need that shit, anyway.”
And it was true.
The men around them?
Loved all their women—unapologetically. A lot of things could be said about a good many of them—they were heroes to some and villains to many more—but no one could say they didn’t love their women with everything they had.
Luca had a lot of problems with his own father—or maybe it was just the growing pains of life that he was trying to get through—but he was also grateful for Zeke more than he could explain. The man that drove him crazy with expectations was also the same man who, without excuse, treated the women in his life with utmost respect and loyalty.
The same way he did for Cosa Nostra. Like the women who allowed them to share their lives were worth the same oath that they coveted to only those who could be made. The importance of those things wasn’t lost on Luca.
“Turn and smile again, guys!” someone shoute
d from the crowd of semi-pro photogs. Luca smirked as they turned, amused at his own dry humor.
“That’s not a smile, Luca,” he heard his mother call.
Fuck.
Luca smiled alongside his sister for another round of shots. That’s when Roz decided to tell him, “You and Penny ... you’ll be good godparents for him. And Luca?”
He turned her way. “Yeah?”
“I didn’t shoot ahead of you. Right now, we just want different things. And there’s nothing wrong with not being sure what it is you want, either.”
Trust his sister to be the one person who saw Luca like cellophane. Completely see-through. She always knew what was in his heart ... another by-product of the two of them growing up together as they did.
Almost twins.
But not quite.
Luca didn’t get the chance to thank his sister for—once again—being absolutely wonderful. Someone in the crowd of the picture taking guests must have noticed Naz trying to sneak by because in the next thirty seconds ... his best friend stood beside him for the next round of pictures.
“This is never going to end,” Luca whispered through a smile.
“Why do you think we put this party off as long as we could?” Naz asked back, faking his own grin for the crowd and talking through his teeth. “We used Penny as an excuse, for the last couple of months, because it really wasn’t an excuse at that point. To be fair.”
Luca chuckled. “Nah, I get it.”
Someone—one of their mothers, probably—must have noticed the guys were getting a little beyond their give-a-fuck line for the picture-taking. “Give them a break, guys! Sweets are coming!”
“Holy ... thank fuck,” Naz muttered, immediately turning around to face the backdrop instead of the guests. There, he could roll his eyes. Luca couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. “Sorry—you know we’re grateful but shit ... this is a whole day thing, and we’re tired.”
“Don’t apologize. Remember my graduation?”
Naz nodded, grinning. “But damn, they let us party for days after.”
Yeah.
They had.
“Evened itself out,” Luca agreed.
