by Toni Aleo
Callie snaps her mouth shut, but Aviva points at me. “Yes, what he said.”
“I hate you two,” she mutters, and I reject that.
“That’s untrue. You love us. You want to hang with us and make cake and watch TV and all the other things we do. Stop acting like this, and be the joy we all love.”
She doesn’t have a response to that, but there is peace.
I glance over at Aviva to see if I said too much, but she looks content as we ride out toward the restaurant by my mom’s hotel. She was going to stay with me, but there is hardly room for everyone. When Callie and Aviva stayed over a week ago, it was tight. I didn’t realize how much crap a teenage girl needs to get ready. She basically wears a leotard and high ponytail every day, but she had more shit in my bathroom than I could fathom.
But I loved every second of it. I’d almost begged Aviva never to leave. My house was full and happy, and we had the time of our lives. We cooked, we made a cake, and then we watched movies until we all fell asleep on the couch. When I woke up because I was hot, it was from Aviva and Callie leaning on me as they slept. I felt so damn loved, so damn complete, and I’ve never felt like that in my life outside of my mother’s love.
I love these girls, and I want my family to love them.
I want my mom to know that I have found what I needed. That she doesn’t have to watch over me and protect me. That I actually do it myself and for others.
I think I might have grown up.
Didn’t take as long as I thought it would.
“So, we’re sitting right behind you at the game?”
I nod as I turn downtown. “Yeah, I bought the tickets off one of our shareholders. We’re playing the Caps, so it should be a great game.”
“The Caps?”
“Washington Capitals,” Callie says, annoyed, from the back.
Aviva shrugs. “And we have to wear those oversized shirts?”
“Jerseys, and they’re meant to be big.”
“They’re like dresses.”
I flash her a toothy grin. “I mean, you don’t have to wear anything under it.”
She chuckles lightly as Callie groans. “Gross.”
“Hush, you,” I throw back at her, and I swear she mumbles something along the lines of me being an asshole. I’m not sure, so I let it go. “I think you guys will have a blast. I think Amelia is going to go to show you the ropes and buy you all the bad food.”
Aviva’s brow perks. “Bad food?”
“Oh yeah. Stadium food is life. Get the pretzel, right? With the cheese. And then get a thing of popcorn. Dip the pretzel in the cheese and then dip it in popcorn. Boom. It’s like a tree of popcorn. I mean, basically a party in your mouth.”
When I look over to see her excitement, I find that she isn’t as enthusiastic as I am. “That sounds absolutely disgusting.”
“Well, that’s rude,” I tease, and she laughs.
“Actually, I think it sounds amazing,” Callie says, and I glance back at her.
“Thank you. That’s why you’re my favorite.”
That makes them both laugh, which was my end game. When we arrive at Surf House, my mom’s favorite place to eat when she’s in town, I do valet since we’re kind of late. I didn’t realize how slow I was driving until we got here. After making sure everything is set, I take Aviva’s hand and head inside with Callie beside me. The loud sounds of the place, the clashing and clanking of plates, smacks me right in the face when we enter. I go straight to the hostess and tell her my name.
“Of course, Mr. Merryweather. This way.”
“We are so cool,” Callie gushes as we head toward the back where there are private dining rooms. “Yes, Mr. Merryweather. This way, Mr. Merryweather. Would you like high tea?” she says in the worst British accent I’ve ever heard. Aviva smiles and laughs along with her, but I gotta get to the back. When the hostess opens the door, a feeling of relief washes over me. I step in, not saying anything to my mom before ushering Aviva and Callie inside. I shut the door behind them before the hostess can and press my hand to the cool wood. I take a deep breath in, letting it out through my nose as Aviva’s hand comes to my back.
“You okay?”
I nod, breathing in once more. “It’s just so damn loud in this place.”
“But it’s my favorite,” Mom says, and I turn just as she approaches me. She takes my face in her hands, kissing me loudly on the cheek. “Ah, my Nicolas. I’ve missed you so much. Thank you for coming. I know it’s hard.”
I wave her off. “It’s fine. I just wish they had a back way in.”
She pats my face, kissing me again. “I agree.” She studies me critically. “You look skinny.”
I make a face. “I seriously eat, like, nine subs a day. Carbs galore.”
Callie snorts. “For real. I’ve never seen someone eat so many subs.”
My mom drops her hands and looks over at Callie. She points to her. “Callie?”
“Yes. Hi. It’s great to meet you.”
“It’s so wonderful to meet you. I’m Myra.” Mom smiles widely. “I have heard so much about you. Nicolas talks constantly about you and how talented you are.”
Callie beams at me. “He’s a good guy. We like him.”
I smirk as Mom turns to Aviva. She’s standing beside me, not her usual self due to the nerves. She holds out her hand, and my mom takes it. “It’s nice to meet you. Nico speaks of you all the time. You’ve raised an amazing guy.”
“He is my favorite. It’s great to finally meet you, Aviva,” Mom says before letting go of Aviva’s hand. “I’ve never heard him talk so much about two people in my life. You guys have a nice little thing going for you.”
We all move to sit down. As Callie falls into her seat, she nods. “We’re basically a family.”
My heart warms as I sit down beside Aviva. Before I can agree, Aviva adds, “They’re close. Two little troublemakers, these two are.”
Does she not think we’re family? I feel like we’re family. I look around the table to see that we’re missing some people. “Where are Mimi and Papa?”
“So, they were supposed to come,” Mom says before sitting across from me, beside Callie. “Plane tickets were bought, but then Papa had some tournament he got called in to do, and you know Mimi doesn’t travel without him.”
I grin. “He’s still reffing?”
She nods. “Yes, at seventy-one, on skates.”
“That’s cool.” Callie glances over at me. “That’s gonna be you.”
I laugh along with everyone as the waitress comes in. After ordering drinks and an appetizer, my mom meets Aviva’s gaze. Aviva seems to tense up, but I can’t get over how gorgeous she looks. She put her hair in a high bun with her bangs covering her forehead. She’s wearing a flowy, flowery dress that hugs that ass of hers in all the ways I like. She has those stupid rubber boobs in, and I almost want to throw them away. I hate that she depends on those to feel like a woman. She’s gorgeous no matter what.
“So, you own your own business?”
I slip my hand into Aviva’s as she goes on and on about her sub shop. I love listening to her talk about it. She’s full of so much pride and loves telling the story of how her mom opened it. “She was obsessed with the 90s since touring with all the artists and all. We used to talk about how we would open a shop with funny sub names. It was fun and still is. I won’t change a thing, I love it.”
Mom smiles as she nods. “When did you lose her?”
“Nine years ago.”
“I’m sure that’s not easy.”
Aviva presses her lips together and shakes her head. “No, but I’ve got Callie, and she keeps me on my toes.”
Callie scoffs. “I’m a joy and a delight.”
I snort at that. “A pain in the ass and snarky like your sister, is more like it.”
“Hey!” Aviva laughs, and Callie nods.
“I do get it all from her.”
Mom laughs as she leans back in her chair. “Sounds like these two ke
ep you busy.”
Aviva nods, and the smile that covers her face hits me straight in the chest. “Yeah, but it’s a good busy. They gang up on me a lot, though. Both so extravagant.”
Mom laughs. “Oh, Nicolas has always been like that.” She looks over at me, and I smile. “We grew up poor, so he’s all about blowing the money he’s worked for.”
“I don’t see a thing wrong with that,” Aviva adds, leaning into me. “He works very hard.”
Before anyone can agree, though they don’t need to since I know I do, our appetizers are brought out.
We order dinner before Callie asks, “Has Nicolas always wanted to be a hockey player?”
Mom beams, while I want to give Callie the finger. Little shit. “Yes. He didn’t talk when he was younger. I don’t think he started until he was four. His first words were ‘hockey glove.’ My father played and used to play with Nico. He’d run around with the helmet on his head, and that’s the only time he would speak to us.”
My heart kicks up, and I look over just in time to see Aviva furrow her brow. Shit. I look to Callie and say, “Tell my mom about that double back hand twist thing you did.”
Callie must have caught my drift, but before she can utter a word, Aviva says, “You didn’t talk until you were four?”
Mom nods. “Oh yes. We were worried he’d never talk.”
“Why—”
“Probably because I talk way more than I should now,” I say quickly. “Mom, Callie did this awesome twist double back thing. Don’t you have the video?”
“I do,” Callie gushes, pulling out her phone, but my mom is staring at me.
I try to tell her with my eyes to shut up, but apparently the social cues that I lack come from her. “Nicolas. Do they not know?”
I feel Aviva’s gaze on me and can see the worried crease in Callie’s forehead.
“No.”
Mom’s eyes widen as she looks between them both and then me. When she starts to speak in French, I close my eyes. Because there is no way they won’t think we’re talking about them.
How do you claim to love this woman, but she doesn’t know?
I don’t want her to know. I don’t want her to think differently of me.
That is ludicrous. If she loves you, then it will not matter.
I am aware, but what if she doesn’t? I can’t chance it. I will tell them.
“Nicolas,” she warns, but I shake my head.
When my gaze falls on Callie, she gives me a look of pure horror. “I didn’t know you spoke French.”
I nod. “Yeah. Well, I’m French Canadian.”
Callie nods and then points to Aviva. “She knows French.”
Well, fuck me sideways. I ignore my heart that has jumped into my throat before grabbing my water. I drain it as Aviva’s gaze burns into the side of my face. Mom, though, she doesn’t seem to care that Aviva could understand. She’s staring at me with such a disapproving look on her face, and I don’t know what to do.
“Well, since no one wants to say anything, I will. What haven’t you told me?”
Callie covers her face, and I want to mirror her. “It’s nothing,” I mutter.
“It appears it is something,” Aviva says sternly. “Nico, look at me.”
“Oh, Aviva honey, he doesn’t look people in the eye.”
“He looks at me,” Aviva snaps, and when I look over at her, her eyes are searching mine. “What is going on?”
I shrug and look away once more. “Can we please talk about something else?”
Callie is all for it, but not my mom. “I don’t know why he has not told you, and it upsets me because he shouldn’t be ashamed—”
I slam my hands onto the table, making everyone jump. “I’m not fucking ashamed.” I feel Aviva’s hand on my bicep, and I suck in a deep breath. “Let’s drop it.”
“Nicolas is autistic.”
Everything stops. I love my mom. I love her so much, but right now, I might hate her. I hadn’t even realized I’d closed my eyes until I opened them to look at her. She isn’t even sorry, but that’s my mom. She is never embarrassed by my diagnosis, only proud of me. Right now, though, I want to rip her head off. How could she do this to me?
“That was not your place,” Callie says, very low and dangerous. I look over at her, and she’s glaring at my mom. “That wasn’t your truth to share.”
“Excuse me, little girl, but—”
“I am sixteen years old, and even I know that it’s his choice who knows what about him. You are his mother, but you don’t get to choose that for him anymore. He’s an adult.”
“I am well aware—”
“If you were aware, you’d know not to speak his truth. Nico is a wonderful man. No one would know unless he told them. Is he quirky? Yup. But his heart is so big, it doesn’t matter. He will sit with me for hours, helping me with whatever I ask. Aviva says ‘Jump!’ and he’s like ‘How high?’ even when it gives him anxiety. He came to my practice the other day, in a crowded room, and I knew it bothered him, but he stood there, proud of me. He fights that label daily, and it does not define him. And I am disgusted that you took it upon yourself to tell my sister.”
“Young lady, I have never—”
“Stop calling me anything but my name. I’m not calling you old lady, later-age lady, or Nico’s mom. I’ve called you Mrs. Myra!”
My mom’s jaw actually drops, and Aviva flies off the handle, leaving my skin prickling. “Calliope, what in the world!”
But Callie’s eyes are on my mother. “Would you have done that to anyone else? Just a guy you knew? Would you tell his business? Being his mother doesn’t give you that right.”
Oh, I think I might throw up. But then Callie’s tear-flooded gaze meets mine, and I can’t worry about me. I have to worry about Callie.
“I want to go home.”
I stand instantly. “Okay, let’s go—”
“Nicolas.”
“I love you,” I say, still not meeting Aviva’s gaze. I feel my anxiety boiling inside me like that monster thing on that show Aviva made me watch. I still don’t understand why that girl’s nose was bleeding the whole time. Hell, she might have been as overwhelmed as I am right now, and that’s what caused the bleed. I don’t know, but Callie wants to go, and I don’t blame her. She’s shaking, she’s so upset. “But Callie wants to go home, and I drove.”
“Nico, she is fine. We all just need to calm down,” Aviva says to me, but I shake my head.
“Fine, then I need to go.” I still won’t look at her, but out of the corner of my eye, I see her grab her things.
Aviva stands as I pull out her chair for her. “I’m very sorry, Ms. Merryweather. I don’t know—”
“Do not apologize for me, Aviva. She needs to apologize to Nico,” Callie sneers.
And one thing is for sure, I gotta get this kid out of here. I go to her and wrap my arm around her shoulder to pull her with me as we walk out. “It’s okay, Cal.”
“It is not,” she says, tears streaming down her face. “That is your label to share. Not hers.”
I kiss the top of her head. “Thanks.”
She leans into me, and I hug her tightly. “I love you, Nico, and you did not deserve that. You should have been able to tell Aviva when you wanted.”
I lean my head into hers. She’s right, but none of that matters now. “I love you too, Cal.”
She pushes through a side door, and I automatically feel free when we are met with the outside air. No people, breaking dishes, or loud noises.
Freedom from everything.
But not for long, because Aviva is going to want answers.
Answers I’m terrified to give her.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Aviva
The ride back to my place is silent.
My mind is running like mad, and I really don’t know what just happened back there. There are three things that are screaming in my head and causing my whole body to shudder in confusion, a touch of be
trayal, and anger.
One, Calliope acting like a fucking fool to the one person I wanted to like me since I’m pretty fond of Nico.
Two, Nico apparently telling his mom he loved me.
Three, Nico is autistic.
Oh, and four, his mom probably hates both Callie and me now. Callie more than me, so maybe I can get on her good side when Callie leaves for college. But do I want her there?
I can’t believe his mom threw Nico under the bus like that. I glance over at him, and he’s visibly upset. He’s white-knuckling the steering wheel, and perspiration is dotted along his temple. His phone has been ringing since we left, and when he turned it off, I figured it wasn’t a good thing. He didn’t turn it off to give us attention, which he has done before. No, it was to ignore whoever was calling.
I swallow hard as I glance back at Callie. She’s got her body in a ball, crying into her knees. I’m proud of her. She’s so fiercely protective and loves with her whole little body. I just wish she had chosen a different way to handle this—or better yet, not say anything at all. No. That’s not true. I would have handled this the same way she did if I had known. I absolutely love Nico and Callie’s relationship, but she can’t be talking to his mother like that.
Though the thing that bothers me the most is that Nico didn’t tell me.
When we get to the shop, Nico pulls in but doesn’t put the truck in park. He hasn’t looked at me since his mom uttered the word. I clear my throat. “Put the truck in park, Nico. We haven’t eaten, and I’m not having you go home hungry.”
“I’m fine. I can go through a drive-thru,” he says, and I’m staring a hole in the side of his face.
“Nico, just come in,” Callie adds, but he doesn’t move.
I reach out, cupping his wrist. Finally, he looks over at me, those beautiful, troubled brown eyes meeting mine. “Please.”
He clenches his jaw, and then he nods before putting the truck in park and turning it off. We all get out and head inside. As I lock the door to the shop behind us, I say, “Callie, go set your phone and my laptop on the counter. Then go to your room.”
She looks back at me with her brows raised. “Why?”
I look at her, dumbfounded. “Seriously? You can’t speak to people like that. I don’t care if you were right. You do not disrespect someone—”
