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He turned, looking slightly hopeful. “Yeah?”
“Do me a favor? Um, don’t mention this to Mattie?”
Derek glanced over my shoulder in the direction Xavier had gone, then back at me questioningly.
“It’s new,” I admitted. “Not—not me and him. It’s not like that, really. The truth is…”
I paused for a moment to close the door behind me and sighed. I’d known Derek for years. Yes, he was one of Matthew’s best friends. But he’d also dated me. He looked out for me and Sofia too. On some level, he had to care.
“Derek, that’s Sofia’s dad. None of my family knows yet that he’s, um, back in New York. I’m trying to see how things go. Give them a chance to get to know each other before I bring my whole family in. Before I actually tell Sofia who he is. You know?”
His dark eyes widened as I spoke. Derek knew enough about my family and my situation with Sofia to know why I would want to keep things quiet for a bit.
“All right,” he said slowly. “I get it. But even Zola doesn’t know? Come on, Frankie, you gotta tell your brother.”
“I will,” I promised a little too quickly. “I will. I just need some time, all right?”
Slowly, Derek nodded. “All right. But is he—you sure he’s all right around her?”
I glanced over my shoulder, like I could see the two of them right through the door. The truth is, I didn’t know. I hoped he was. But that flash I’d just seen in his eyes had been alarming. Not toward her. Toward me.
“We’ll be fine,” I said.
“All right,” Derek replied doubtfully. “But you need something, I don’t care if homeboy in there is a saint or not. You got a cop on your side, Frankie. Remember that, okay?”
I nodded. Derek and I hadn’t worked out, but I appreciated his loyalty to Matthew and this family.
“Thanks, Derek.” I leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you.”
I reentered the house to find Sofia sitting on the sofa happily watching Daniel Tiger instead of Moana while Xavier was back in the kitchen, this time doing dishes with a thundercloud for a face.
“You little minx,” I scolded her politely before dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “You’re supposed to ask first before you watch.”
“I asked Xavi,” she replied. “He said okay.”
“Xavier’s not your mom,” I informed her, despite the fact that, by all rights, he should have the same authority. “We’re getting a little too close to bedtime. One episode, all right?”
She was already turned back around while I went into the kitchen.
“Sorry about the interruption,” I said. “Let me do that. Cooks don’t clean in this house.”
Xavier said nothing, just surrendered the sponge and pan with a splash of soapy water, then stomped out of the kitchen to join Sofia on the couch. She was too entranced by her cartoon to notice the way a scowl had replace Xavier’s grin.
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself as he got a look at the wet stains on his shirt. “Fucking mess.”
I huffed. It wasn’t like Sofia didn’t hear her fair share of profanity. Matthew had many excellent qualities, but censorship wasn’t one of them. Still, Xavier was going to have to work on his mouth if he was going to take on more parental duties with this one.
Sofia took things into her own hands.
“You say the F-word a lot, Xavi,” she told him matter-of-factly.
Xavier blinked down at her. “Yes, I do.”
Sofia nodded, still watching the TV. “So does myzio. But when he says bad words, he has to put money in the swear jar.” She pointed at the canning jar stuffed with one- and five-dollar bills, sitting on the end table next to Xavier. “When it’s full, we go to Coney Island and ride the Ferris wheel. We go a lot.”
Xavier examined the jar for a moment, then pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and extracted two bills.
“Consider it an advance,” he told her dryly.
