That was a low blow. She knew damn well she was one of the last people in the world I would ever want to hurt. And then dropping that you’re always going to be my best friend?
Fucking hell.
“So then what’s the problem? Because you’re not getting rid of me even if you move to Japan and end up with a bunch of new friends. I’ll fight ’em.”
“I’ve got friends here.”
“I thought I was the only real one left now that you still talked to.”
Fine. She had a point there. “Family—”
That had Luna rolling her eyes with a scoff. “You think Grandpa Gus would let you leave without him? Or Peter? I’d give them a month before they followed you out there.”
I—
Huh. Huh. She did have a point. Kind of.
“Maio House,” I found myself bringing up too.
Luna reached over and placed her hand over mine. She rarely did that, and it made me freeze up and really look at her. Really, really listen. “Give me a break. I didn’t think you were scared of anything, Len, except maybe your grandpa. I never thought it would be a little ocean that would freak you out.”
A little ocean.
I flipped my hand over and held hers back, something weird and tight and freeing and terrifying at the same time making me hold my breath. “Maio House is my family business though, Lu.”
She set her other hand on top of our pile, her expression full of love and understanding and that thing that was all Luna and her endless compassion. “And this is your life. This place isn’t going anywhere. Grandpa, Peter, and I aren’t letting you never see us or talk to us again. There are phones, video calling, emails, planes, credit card miles… the only things you lose are the things you give up on.”
Chapter 23
Subject: Done
Lenny DeMaio:
Wed 5/5/2019 1:29 p.m.
to Jonah Collins
I had your daughter yesterday, asshole. She’s beautiful and she’s perfect. I’m done trying to reach out to you. I’m done bothering you and: begging you to contact me. She’s here and she’s not going anywhere. If you ever want to see her, we’ll be here. But I’m done trying.
Bye
“Lenny, sit with me.”
I didn’t even bother looking at my grandfather as I undid Mo’s bib, wiping her cheeks off with it afterward. “Why the hell do you sound so serious?” I asked him with a smirk as I brushed off the crumbs of her lunch of beans and mushy rice into my palm a couple days later.
“Because we need to have a serious talk, Len.”
I froze as Peter came to my shoulder, setting a hand on it as he said, in a voice that was too quiet, “I’ll take her. You talk to him.”
Okay.
This was weird. I tried to think back on whether Grandpa Gus and I had ever actually had a “serious” conversation, and nothing came to mind. What the hell was going on?
I swiveled my head to look at the man who was gazing down at my baby with so much love, I had to suck in a breath. He flicked his gaze to me and smiled, a big, real, tender smile. Then he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, his hand covering mine for a moment as he said, “Stay and talk to him.”
I eyed him, alarm filling up my belly even more. “Uh, why are you two being so serious?” Oh God. “Are one of you sick? Because I swear to—”
“No. Talk to your grandpa, Len,” Peter insisted, turning his attention back to Mo before dislodging the tray of her high chair and pulling her up and out of it.
I watched as he brought her close, kissed her cheek, and headed out of the room, whispering something to her I couldn’t totally understand. I almost dreaded turning around and finding Grandpa Gus sitting at the island, hands linked together on top of it, a cup of decaf sitting to the side of him. But he was smiling at me, so maybe this conversation wasn’t going to be totally serious despite what he’d said.
As long as they weren’t sick, that was all that mattered.
I made a suspicious face as I headed over to him, snagging my glass of water and refilling it from the filter on the counter. After pulling out the stool with my foot on the bottom rung, I dropped into it, crossed my legs, told myself it couldn’t be so bad as long as they were both healthy, and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He reached up and tugged on my earlobe. “Other than you being a sad little shit.”
I laughed, a tiny bit of relief sliding over my shoulders. “I’m not sad.”
“But you are a little shit?” Grandpa smiled.
“It runs in the family.”
“Yeah, on your mom’s side,” he replied. “But you are sad, and we both know it, so quit trying to lie to me.”
“I’m not sad, Grandpa. I’m fine,” I insisted, even as everything in me called me a damn liar.
The look on his face definitely said he thought I was full of shit.
Which I was. Just a little. When I thought about it, it was like back when I’d first decided I was having Mo and knew I’d have to give up judo if I didn’t want to risk hurting myself so badly that I might not be able to do fun shit with her. It hurt. It sucked. But I knew I’d survive.
That didn’t mean that I didn’t miss Jonah down to my fucking bones.
But I’d hoped I wasn’t that fucking obvious about it either.
“I’m not,” I repeated, not appreciating the bullshit face he was making.
He blinked. “Now you’re going to choose to lie to me? Now? After all the things you’ve done? All the things you’ve said? You’re going to lie to me about this?”
I shut my mouth and pressed the tip of my tongue against the inside of my cheek. “Fair enough,” I agreed, earning me a knowing smirk. “I do miss him, okay? But I’ll be all right.” Mostly.
Grandpa Gus was smirking by then, and he didn’t bother curbing his sigh as he reached over, took my hand, and said, “Lenny, you’re full of shit and we both know it.”
I blinked. “You’re… full of it.”
He squeezed my hand. “Yeah, but not right now, am I?”
“You always are.”
Grandpa grinned. “We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you being a sad little panda because your boy is gone.”
I opened my mouth to tell him that he wasn’t a boy, but he held up a finger that told me to stop talking.
Grandpa didn’t say anything for so long as he watched me with those thoughtful eyes and smirking mouth that I wasn’t sure what to expect. And that put me on edge because there were very few times I could ever remember where he didn’t know what to say. Grandpa always knew.
“Tell me something.”
“Okay.”
He squeezed my hand. “What is it about Jonah that made you pick him out of all the other men you’ve met?”
“Why?”
“Just answer the question, Len.”
All right. “He’s the nicest person I’ve ever met. The kindest. He’s so calm, it soothes me, and when he isn’t calm and he’s pissed off and grumpy, I still want to be around him.” I had to think about that. “He just makes me happy, Grandpa. More than anyone else I’ve ever met, not counting you guys.”