Page 50 of Marcus

She quieted as the man left her office, and she was left with only her daughter. Tiffany pushed off her lap, talking about something she wanted to show her mother in the small backpack she toted back and forth to daycare or pre-K. Cella, on the other hand, wondered if her daughter had managed to realize just how different they were from the other people around them. Or even, if Tiffany understood that her little life was not like the other kids’ lives.

How many kids had a driver?

A bodyguard?

It was a conversation she knew was going to happen someday with her daughter, the same way she’d had it with her father when she was about eight years old, but thankfully … today didn’t seem like that day. Tiffany was more interested in what was in her backpack, and Cella was entirely willing to push those thoughts of the mafia and this life they lived to the side.

It hadn’t touched her daughter yet.

Not in a way Tiffany understood.

Sure, the mafia took her father, but Tiffany didn’t know that. She didn’t know that the death of the man who helped to give her life came from the connections of people she loved more than anything. Cella had a long time to settle her mind and heart with those things, and she still wasn’t sure that she dealt with it.

At least, not well.

And here in Rochester?

She felt like it wasn’t in her face all the time.

Or maybe that was just her running.

Who knew?

“Here it is,” Tiffany said, pulling a craft from her backpack that was slightly crumpled but it didn’t detract from the finger-painted tree. “S’a maple tree, Ma.”

Cella took the picture from her girl, sighing under her breath at the reminder staring her in the face. “Still on the maple thing, huh?”

“Marcus said—”

“Oh, don’t worry, I remember everything Marcus says.”

Far better than her daughter knew …

That man filled her thoughts constantly. For reasons she very much liked, and for others that kept her up at night worrying and wondering and … everything.

“You know it’s not maple season where he lives, right?” Cella asked, lowering the picture to meet Tiffany’s expectant gaze. “You can’t go out and tap a tree until like February, or something.”

“But he said I can see how they make stuff.”

“Yes, but—”

“When are we going to see Marcus again?”

Cella pursed her lips.

This kid pulled no punches.

“I was thinking next weekend, I would probably go to Toronto to work, and—”

“I can come, too!”

Cella’s immediate reaction was to explain to her child that it might be better if she stayed. After all, no one said she could just tote her kid with her while she worked. Even if this weekend wasn’t about work. The rational side of her brain was louder, however, and those first thoughts weren’t what slipped out of her mouth.

“How about we call Marcus, and you can ask him if he’d like for you to come next weekend with me to Toronto?” she asked.

Tiffany’s whole face lit up all over again as she nodded fast. “Okay, you call, I’ll talk.”

Her laughter colored up the office as she reached for the phone. Even as she dialed Marcus’s number, she had no doubt about what his answer would be for Tiffany. The man had no qualms about showing his obvious affection for the girl. As sweet as it was, and as much as it melted Cella’s heart into a puddle of emotion she couldn’t understand, it also scared her a little bit.