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With the tiramisu in the refrigerator, Dante out at work, and Leo in bed, I clean up the house because Maria is still not well. Walking up the stairs, I start to relax and think about having a bath before I stop short when I hear Leo whimpering.
Racing down the hall to his room, I fling myself inside and find him crying in bed.
“Leo?” I say as I walk slowly to him. “Are you okay, buddy?” I stop at the side of his bed and kneel down to be closer to him. Reaching out, I wipe a stray tear away, and he pulls the blanket up to his chin.
“It’s okay, I’m here. Can I get you anything?” I ask him, before he suddenly flings the blankets back and jumps out of bed and into my arms, gripping onto me for dear life. My heart breaks as he whimpers in my arms, and I cuddle him, rubbing his back to help calm him down. As I sit up onto the mattress, I realize that both his pajamas and the sheets are wet, and it dawns on me that he has wet the bed. Something that is not a usual activity for a boy Leo’s age, but after his frightened state today, it’s not surprising.
“It’s okay. Come on. I will take you to the shower and change your bed while you clean up.” He nods into my shoulder.
Standing, I carry him across his room and into the bathroom, where I turn on the shower and get him a fresh towel.
“Okay, you get in and have a quick wash. I will be out changing your bed and then I can stay with you, if you like?” I say to him, trying to be upbeat, and he nods while wiping his eyes.
With a last squeeze of his hand, I close the bathroom door behind me and get busy changing his sheets. I hear the shower turn off just as I am putting the comforter on, and I’m fluffing the pillow as he comes out with damp hair and fresh pajamas.
“Feeling better?” I ask, and he nods before crawling back into bed. I pull up the blankets around his chin. As I am about to walk away, he grabs my hand, then motions for me to lie on top of his blankets beside him.
“Okay buddy. I will stay a while,” I say to him, hopefully answering what he is asking of me, and I jump onto his bed to lie beside him, all the while his grip on my hand remains.
I brush his hair with my fingers, lightly, to help him relax, and I hum a little lullaby—one that my mother used to sing to me when I was little. Lost in my own thoughts, I am a little taken aback when he begins to join in. His voice sounds a little shaky at first, and it is quiet, but it is there. Leo is humming. I try to remain calm, not getting too overly excited, not wanting to scare him and wanting to let him have this moment of relaxation. But I am nearly bursting out of my skin and wish that Dante was here to hear it. While he isn’t talking, he is using his voice box and that is another step forward.
Together we hum the remainder of the lullaby before I notice his eyes closing, and he begins breathing heavily. I stay close to him, my hand running through his hair, until his grip on mine begins to loosen.
Lying back on the bed next to him, I stare at the ceiling. I don’t dare move so as not to wake him. As I lie here in the darkness, his soft sheets like a pillow around my body, I am comforted by his presence and happy that he is now firmly asleep. I want to stay up to talk to Dante, but before long, I succumb to sleep as well.
22
Dante
Walking into the dark, quiet house, the pounding in my head starts to lessen after spending the past five hours with Carter at Allure. Weeks have gone by without a word from Dominic, and I know he has to be frothing at the mouth, wanting to kill me. He would take great delight in it. I am sure. The fact that he has been underground for so long now is unsettling. The longer he makes us wait, the more likely it is that he will take us by surprise. So, trying to draw him out, Carter and I sat at that stinking shithole all night, hoping that his need for revenge was strong enough to pull him from his hiding spot so we could finish this once and for all.
But it wasn’t.
Instead, I have a fucking headache due to my ex-wife screaming at me every time she took a break from the stripper pole, even though she couldn’t string two words together and her eyes were bloodshot and half closed. At one point, I thought she fell asleep on the pole, such was her lack of energy and ability. Totally incoherent from whatever drug was in her system.
In the end, Carter and security had to physically remove her from the bar, setting her up out the back with coffee. As the night wore on, my anger at her subsided and now all I feel is pity. It is fucking sad that her life has become what it is.
It has been a long fucking day.
I walk past the kitchen, then stop, intrigued to see if she actually made the dessert that we joked about today. My pace quickens as I make my way over to the refrigerator and open the door. The bright light shines on my silhouette as I lean in to see the large glass bowl full of fresh tiramisu, and I smile. Pulling it out, I grab a spoon and take it upstairs with me.
Thank God for small delights.
It is late as I open the bedroom door and creep in slowly, putting the bowl of dessert next to my armchair before I notice that the bed is empty. Sheets still made, the room untouched from earlier today.
I walk to the bathroom and open the door, but find that empty too.
She isn’t downstairs, so I walk out the bedroom door and down the hall to Leo’s room, the only other logical place she might be. Stepping quietly inside, I spot her. Curled up on her side, on top of the blankets, lying next to Leo, his hand holding hers. The both of them are sleeping, looking peaceful together.
I haven’t seen this before. Angelina never stayed with Leo. Never nursed him or read him stories. She never played with him, ate with him. It was almost like she didn’t even want him. Maybe she didn’t. Maybe she was just doing her duty as a mob wife. She never spent much time with him at all, which is why her contacting me now to see him is so odd.
I watch them for a moment, looking at how perfect and peaceful they are. Little Red’s caring nature is something I have never experienced before. With parents who both left this earth when I was young and an arranged marriage that was a shambles before it even began, this maternal instinct and feminine energy she is bringing to my home, to my boy and to me, is thawing me right down to my bones.
She is all woman, and I fucking love it.
I spot the pile of sheets nearby and put two and two together. Understanding washes over me that Leo may have had an accident. He usually does when his mother starts to crawl back into his life, and I feel the anger beginning to well inside of me at how distressed she makes him.
Looking back at the bed, Little Red moves slightly, obviously feeling my presence.
