Page 55

Gwen

I walked out of the terminal, at the Vancouver airport; the air was chilly, the sky cloudy, like we might get some snow. Thankfully, I’d worn my purple coat and some cute boots I’d gotten with Valya.

It didn’t coordinate with my ladybug beanie, or my scarf and gloves with Clark’s number on it, but I didn’t actually care.

My phone beeped and I saw that Popi was almost here. Pulling my suitcase behind me, I made my way to the designated pickup area.

While I waited, I checked in with Clark and Tenzin.

Me

In Vancouver

Clark

We love you

Tenzin

If you need to, just get on the ultra-bullet to Portland. Text me you’re on the way and I’ll get you at the station–Cooter’s letting me borrow his truck.

Me

Thank you

Clark, tell your parents hi from me.

Tens, squish those babies for me.

Hopefully, the babies would like their presents. Since their nursery was a celestial theme, Mercy helped me ice-dye some blankets to look like the sky.

Clark

You’ve got this, we believe in you.

Awww.

A sleek, silver-grey, classic car pulled up. The kind where in the movies there was a driver with a hat, and in the back seat omegas with red lipstick and pin curls sat laughing and drinking champagne.

Popi got out and came around to me, hugging me tight, looking dashingly ominous in a tailored coat and slacks. “Buttons, you made it.”

He took my suitcase, which was the one Valya had gotten me for my trip to Quebec, and put it in the trunk.

“Is that all?” He looked around as if more might be hiding behind me.

“I’m only here for a few days, Popi.” I laughed as I got into the front seat with my backpack.

“Your sisters have so much more.” He chuckled as he got into the car, then fastened his seat belt, and took off.

The car was just as I remembered. Maybe a little shinier, like someone had given it a good detail. Though seldom did I get to sit in the front. It was his pride and joy. His love of classic cars was one thing that had endeared himself to my Gramps.

I’d spent a lot of time over the years helping my gramps fix cars. His red antique pickup, the one we’d decorate for the parade, had been my favorite and I wondered who’d gotten it. Probably one of my alpha cousins.

As we pulled out, I waved, unsure if they could see me, or if they were even here. I’d done the same as I boarded the plane in New York.

“Did you have friends on the flight?” Popi asked.

I shook my head. “Waving to my watchers. They’re done now, right? I’m in your hands and the contact is over.”

“Yes. Though I thought that we should keep it until you finish university. Sure, you know now. But would it be that weird? There’s still the trial. Your safety is important.” His brow furrowed with worry.

“If Mr. Deloitte even goes to trial,” I grumbled. “How about, if I feel I need it, I'll tell you?” I still couldn’t believe I never noticed people watching me for three years. After meeting some of my team, I’d started placing that I’d seen them dozens and dozens of times. It never struck me as strange, because I did see the same people over and over.

“He will go to trial,” Popi muttered. “That sounds like a good plan. How was your flight? I was worried that Matty booked you on a commercial flight. He should have sent the jet. It would be safer.”

“I enjoyed my first-class, non-stop flight, Popi. I’m not so fancy that I need the jet.” In the cup holder was a cup from my favorite coffee chain here in Vancouver. “Is this for me?” I pulled off my gloves and picked up the cup.

“It is. It’s probably not what you drink now, but I was hesitant to ask.” He gave me a shy smile as we left the airport.

Another tradition. He always brought me hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and chocolate shavings when he picked me up from the airport, when I was by myself.

I took a sip, savoring the chocolaty goodness. “Just like I remembered. I will never say no to hot chocolate.” There was a little bakery bag, too. “Or a cake pop. Thank you.” I ate the little chocolate delight in one bite.

He remembered. My mom might have followed the careful nutrition plans laid out for me by my old skating coach. Popi thought it was dumb and would sneak me whatever I was feeling, if I asked.

“I’m glad. Buttons, it’s not about being fancy. It’s about safety. Being able to control your environment. You can take the jet back, it’s not a problem,” he told me.

“I can see that. But I’m good. Thanks.” Memory issues aside, this was still the dad concerned with safety. There was also a reason I’d wanted him to get me, not Babo or anyone else.

A song played. I was pretty sure this was the driving with Popi playlist I made, when I was a teenager.

“Your room is ready. I hope that’s okay.” He gave me an anxious look. “Luca and Sof and their families are staying at the house, too.”

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t staying in my room I had an issue with. It was being kept in it–and the dads assuming everything would go back to how it was.

Staying with Luca and Sof. That would be interesting. Well, Isa had said if I needed to, I could escape to her hotel. There was always the backhouse, too.

“Did you ever find my things from Nonna’s?” I’d had a lot to deal with last time I was here. Not just the aftermath of shooting Lucius, or the broken bond with Officer Jones, but my broken leg and other injuries. By the time I was ready to ask for those boxes, no one knew where they were.

He looked over as he drove. “Yes. They’re in your room–including everything from your tree house.”

Well, that was nice. Who lived in Nonna’s house now? Maybe the cousin who took over her vet practice.

“We put a lock on your door, after some of your siblings tried to take your things. Though sometimes when it’s just Giulia and Davey, we let her go in there. She likes to read your books while sitting in your bean bag and is always respectful of your belongings,” he added.

“I don’t have a problem with Giulia being in there.” I hoped she and Davey liked what I made for them.

Popi caught me up on my cousins, the aunties and uncles we liked, and other people I knew.

“Are things with Papa and his heart bad?” My belly clenched as I finished my hot chocolate.

“We’re all just having to be more careful of what we eat, exercise, and watch our stress. Your dad and I still workout at the gym, Papa runs every day. Babo plays tennis. We won’t be around forever, but we’re okay,” Popi assured. “Though Matty’s stepping up, taking over more day-to-day things. Luca and Sof have been handling a lot, too.”

“Sof?” That I hadn’t expected.

“She has a head for business, and with the kids in school, enjoys having things to do,” he told me.

“Makes sense.” Because she liked to keep busy, and unlike Chiara and Maricella, she didn’t like social things.

We entered the gates of a cemetery, and my heart clenched. But it was time.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Popi looked concerned.

“Yeah. I have a lot to tell him.” Tears pricked my eyes. But Popi understood.

We parked, and he led me over to an area of the cemetery I hadn’t been to in years. Though I’d come here more than once, when I’d been recuperating from what happened at the lake house. My shoes crunched in the snow as we found it.

Henry Jones, Police Officer, Beloved Son and Brother.

Tears pricked my eyes, as I crouched next to it and got the volume of manga out of my backpack. It had been his favorite.

Officer Jones hadn’t just been part of the Vancouver Police Department; he was from here. He’d gone to the same university Matty had attended.

“Hey, it’s me. Sorry I haven’t been here in years,” I whispered, as Popi backed away, so I could have some privacy. “I went back to New York to finish my degree and play hockey. Here’s the latest volume of your favorite series. I read it on the plane ride over.”

I set it next to the headstone, noting that other people had left other volumes. His badge was there, too.

“I only have one semester left. I go to NYIT now. Oh, I got to play in a pro hockey game. Maybe I’ll get signed after graduation.” I told him silly things about my life, wishing he could answer me.

That I’d gotten a chance to know him.

“Um, I’ve met people.” A lump formed in my throat, as a tear went down my cheek. “Alpha hockey players. I know you played lacrosse at university, not hockey. Still, I think you’d like them. Clark is really into comics and the Defender League, so I’m pretty sure you could find anime to watch together and manga to talk about. Tenzin reads all these true crime books, especially about national parks. He’d always want to know about your day at work. I… I love them and we bought a townhouse. We have a cat named Snowball, too. She’s really chill, I feel like she’d like your dog. I hope you know I think about you a lot. I’m trying to get my shit together, but it’s hard sometimes. But I…”

The tears kept coming. Because I was robbed of something. I’d never know exactly what I’d been robbed of, because I didn’t know what relationship we would have had, since dead-matches didn’t always fall in love. Would we have been besties? More?

Though whatever we’d have been, I knew he’d get along with Clark and Tenzin.

“It’s okay, Buttons.” Popi came over to me and rubbed my back. “Want to go out for ice cream?”

“It’s a little early for ice cream and the dads are probably expecting us.” I pressed my face into his soft jacket.

“Oh. They are? Okay.” He hugged me tight. “Do you need more time? I’ll call them.”

I gave the gravestone a look and patted it. “Merry Christmas, Officer Jones.” I held out my hand, and Popi helped me up. “Let’s go home.”

We drove through our beautiful neighborhood, and I looked out at the familiar houses. Or rather, their fences and hedges. We approached the familiar fence, and the gate opened. The house came into view. It wasn’t giant, but the three-story house with dormer windows wasn’t small.

Memories also hit me like a sack of bricks. How many times had I come through those gates to find Mom waiting for me?

And last time…

I shuddered, remembering being wrapped in a blanket and carried inside, after I’d gotten released from the hospital, while I sobbed.

“Oh, Buttons.” Popi rubbed my back. “It’ll be okay. We’re so happy you’re home.”

“Okay.” I gulped. I got out of the car door, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t walk through the door. My feet felt like they were made of bricks. My knees shook, as my eyes fell to the window of my third-story room, which I’d climbed out of with nothing but my phone and a small backpack.

“I’ve got you.” Popi scooped me up like I was a little girl and carried me inside, through the foyer and into the living room. He sat me on the giant couch and snuggled me, Babo joining him.

The massive Christmas tree was a focal point. As was Babo’s piano. Art hung on the wall. Everything was tasteful, but expensive, many of them antiques and heirlooms.

“I’ll put your things in your room,” Dad said, kissing the top of my head, then leaving the room.

“You’re safe, it’s okay,” Popi whispered. “Everything will be okay. We love you and we’re so excited you’re here.”

“Okay.” I gulped, still shaking a little.

Babo purred, blue eyes full of concern. Popi’s purr joined in.

“You took her to the cemetery first, didn’t you,” Babo said softly. His cashmere sweater felt soft under my cheek.

“She wanted to go.” Popi stroked my hair.

“Let’s have brunch, just us dads and you? Luca and Sof and their families have gone to the zoo with Isa’s family and Matty’s. Joe’s working. We wanted to spend time with you without everyone else,” Babo said. “You’re probably hungry after your flight.”

I nodded, and let them help me up, take my coat and backpack, then followed them into the formal dining room. While the room held a gigantic table and had hosted fancy parties, it wasn’t fancy itself. It held echoes of my childhood.

Extra chairs for friends and family. The dent in the hutch from when Joe fell backwards in his chair. The beautiful dishes in said hutch. The missing pieces of the chandelier that Isa and I had stolen to make prisms.

Currently, it was set with enough food for a party. My stomach rumbled at the delicious smells. It would be nice to spend time with just them.

“Eggs. Cheese. Pastries. Much better than bananas and oatmeal.” Popi’s eyes lit up as he took his seat.

“But you need to eat the oatmeal, so I can keep you around a little longer,” Babo said with a fond look. “A little indulgence won’t hurt though.” He put a slice of melon wrapped in prosciutto on his plate.

I took my usual seat, ravenous and excited to try everything.

“Little Miss! Welcome. I made your favorites.” Aldo, who’d been our chef my entire life, came in with a pot of coffee.

“Thank you. I’d like some coffee, please.” I smiled at him as he poured me a cup.

“Me, too.” Dad came in wearing all black. “Hi, Buttons.” Kissing me on the cheek, he took his seat. “Cheese. Oh, and bacon. ”

“Hi, Dad.” I looked around. “Where’s Papa?”

“I’m here. I’m here.” Papa hurried in, in a suit as usual. “I’m so happy to see you, Buttons.” He kissed the top of my head and took his seat at the head of the table.

“It’s nice to see all of you.” I filled my plate. Besides pastries and elegant things like the melon and a pretty cheese and meat tray, Aldo had made my childhood favorites of mini strawberry waffles and scrambled eggs with asparagus and cheese.

And bacon. Made perfectly.

As I ate, the dads asked me about my flight, finals, hockey, my guys, and other things that dads ask their kids about.

“What about after graduation? Forensic accounting, what do you want to do with that?” Papa asked.

“I think she plans on playing hockey, honey.” Babo helped himself to a beautiful almond pastry that probably came from the bakery down the street.

“I do. I have an agent, there’s interest. Maybe I even have a sponsor. While playing for the Knights is the dream, I’ll go to whoever wants me. If no one in the PHL does, I’ll go overseas. Lots of teams over there aren’t afraid of shorter goalies. Maybe I’ll play for Mia and Gio in Italy.”

After my censure, she’d reached out and told me if I felt like dropping out and playing for them, they’d take me.

I reached for a tiny, jam filled pastry, because I knew Aldo got them for me.

“Oh, Mia and Gio. I remember them.” Dad nodded. “They coach for Italy? Which team?”

“Venezia.” I shrugged, using the Italian form of Venice.

“Oh.” Papa took a sip of coffee. “What if you don’t get signed?”

“Then I’ll work as an accountant, play for a rec team, and keep trying to get signed someplace. Not only is accounting practical, but I like it. I can work anywhere, even remotely. If I get too injured to play, I can get a job in accounting. When I retire, I’ll get a job in accounting,” I told them.

Depending on what sort of team I got signed to, I might do remote accounting work, anyway. Not all teams paid like the PHL.

Though Constantine’s mention of me having a gift for coaching did stick in my mind. Maybe I’d coach a kids hockey team for fun after I retired.

Maybe one of my guys would coach it with me.

They all nodded, but it was a sound plan. And pretty much the same one I’d told them three years ago.

Dad took some tomato salad, leaving behind the cheese. “When did you specialize in forensic accounting? What do you do with that?”

“I got into it after everything at the lake house. We learned about it in a class and I was fascinated. End game?” I got some more eggs and another jam pastry. “Eventually, I want to join the Bureau of Investigation. I’m going to use accounting to take down all of my enemies. First on the list–Lucius’ family. They might hide from the law, but no one can hide from the tax bureau.”

Popi chuckled, looking proud. “Now that’s my girl.”

“I’m impressed.” Papa took a sip of coffee.

“I know the life of a hockey player is chaotic and volatile. I have a plan. Yes, my guys support me. One reason we’re getting a place together is so I know I have a home with them no matter where I end up.” I popped the jam pastry in my mouth and got another. They were so good.

Taking my phone, I took a picture and sent it to Tenzin and Clark.

“Um,” I took a sip of coffee. “Thanks again for coming for me. And, uh, you had big guns.”

“You know we have a gun safe,” Dad told me.

Yeah, knowing it existed and learning to be safe around them, and seeing my dads come for me with big guns, was very different.

It was also different from when Lenny and Matty came for me at the lake house, even though there’d been guns then, too.

“Yeah.” I fiddled with the coffee cup. “I love you, but… I… I want to Gwen to the Gweniest.”

“It’s been clear for a long time that you’re on a different path than everyone else,” Papa assured.

“Your mom also tried to warn us that if we didn’t support your hockey dreams, you’d leave.” Babo hung his head.

“She did?” I sucked in a breath. “Your lack of support hurt. I was good. I’m still good.” While I didn’t want to start a fight, we’d gotten into my abandonment issues a little, back when they’d rescued me. None of this fixed my hurts.

Babo nodded. “You're good at hockey. We can’t wait to see where you go next.”

“Can I see Mom’s note with all the stuff?” I got a piece of toast and slathered it with homemade soft cheese, then drizzled it with balsamic vinegar and olive oil.

“You can. We’ll absolutely honor that going forward if you’d like. However, we’ve now put the leftovers of everything previously in an account for you, since we haven’t spent everything as indicated. We also included your share of various inheritances and other things. I’ll give you the spreadsheet.” Babo was the accountant in the family. Well, besides Mom.

They what? They’d never done this for my siblings.

“Thanks. But really, I don’t need any money. Well, except for the house money, if you won’t let me sell a painting. I just want to see what she wrote.” I was curious as to if she just made a list or if she wrote little notes.

“We know, Buttons.” Babo’s look went soft. “You’re very self-sufficient and we’re so proud of you. If you don’t want it now, you can just let it sit for later.”

“Okay.” That sounded good. Also, I might be able to do some good with that money. My mom did a lot of charity work, so I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.

Was this a slippery slope? But if it was money Mom wanted me to have and things like the rest of the money for the lavish parties I never got, it should be fine, right?

“There’s also another account. It’s completely yours and was never our money. We can’t even access it on your behalf,” Papa told me. “If you’d rather your house money come from there, instead of what she set aside for you, you have that choice.”

“I’m okay selling a painting for house money instead. Some of them are fugly.” I made a face.

All mine? Never theirs? Mom probably had her own money from all the years of doing the books for the grandparents. Or it might be from my grandparents.

“Other than your Dumas, well, and your mother’s landscape of your nonna’s, the paintings will be yours eventually, ” Papa added.

“Why paintings ? I know nothing about art. Isa gets a castle and I get paintings?” I wasn’t really complaining. Much.

Popi laughed. “Isa’s mates will gladly trade you a painting for it. The upkeep and property taxes are atrocious. It’s why they started making movies in that space franchise. Also, paintings are more portable and easier to care for than real estate.”

“Oh.” I liked those movies, but considering how Isa’s director and actor mates were artsy, many thought they were cheapening themselves with a commercial series. It was, however, very profitable.

“Is the money from Nonna? Matty said Nonna didn’t leave me money?” Everyone else had stopped eating. But I was still hungry. I added some meat, cheese, and fruit to my plate, along with some focaccia bread and homemade crackers.

“They left you their house, ” Dad told me. “Less the property the vet clinic is on, which goes to your cousin who runs it, the parcels that already belong to people, and a specific spot meant for Luca. The treehouse is included in your land. The pond is in Luca’s.”

“Oh, and your Gramp’s red truck. Which is here. I would’ve picked you up in it, but it needs tires and a new battery,” Popi added.

I sucked in a breath. “What?”

Never did I think I’d get the house.

And the truck, too? What a gift.

“Mateo got the house fixed up and rented to a nice family. A company manages it and the money is all in a fund that is used for taxes and upkeep. Though it is yours completely. They’re very good tenants, so it’s fine to leave them be, until you want to live in it yourself,” Papa told me. “There’s a stipulation about selling it, I don’t remember what.”

“I have a house and a truck?” Yeah, I needed to learn how to drive. I loved that antique truck.

“You do,” Dad told me.

Popi nodded. “They worried about you. You were happy there.”

“I was. I just wasn’t expecting such a gift from them.” This was so much more than I ever expected, and I was overwhelmed. A little regret pinged through me. I had all this and struggled so hard.

But I’d learned so much these past few years by having to work my ass off.

I shook off all those what ifs. Most of this wasn’t now stuff, this was future assets. Retirement funds. A house to live in one day. Paintings to put in it. Really, I was set for the future, as long as I was careful.

Though I’d still do some good with it.

“Don’t cry, Buttons.” Papi handed me a napkin.

I was crying?

“It’s just better than a blowjob from a dinosaur.” I dabbed my tears.

“We never forgot you,” Popi told me. “I’m sorry if you ever felt that way.”

“We also understand you wanting to do things yourself. We’re proud of you for it and happy to hang on to whatever you want, until you’re ready for it,” Papa added.

I nodded. “Please keep managing Nonna’s house for me?”

“Of course,” Dad told me. “Your mom’s painting is at Isa’s castle and she’ll take care of it for you.”

Sure. I’d probably have to get Lenny to get it for me at some point. I wouldn’t trade that for the castle.

“We love you, Buttons,” Babo assured. “So much. We didn’t do the best job with you and we’re sorry.”

“We never meant for you to feel unloved or that things were unfair.” Papa looked sad.

“This doesn’t fix everything.” I sniffed. “Some fucked up shit happened.”

“I know. I’m sorry. No, we know it doesn’t fix everything. We’re happy you’re giving us another chance,” Babo told me.

“This isn’t why we’re giving you things. We’re not throwing money at you to make up for everything we missed. We’ve had things set aside for you all along. You’re just getting things all at once, instead of a little at a time, like your siblings. Things also look different, because you’re you,” Dad added.

“You’ve been different from the moment you decided to come out early, ass-first,” Popi told me.

I’d heard that story a million times. It was a dark and stormy night. I was three weeks early and breech. Not everyone was even home.

“There’s a difference between fair and equal and I’m okay with that.” Wait, did they just apologize?

This was a lot. Too much. My eyes teared.

Babo squeezed my arm. “We love you, Buttons. We’ll try to do better.”

“Okay. Thank you. I… I appreciate it. I miss you, and I love you all, too. As long as you aren’t trying to tell me what to do.” I grabbed one more pastry, trying to make light, even though I just wanted to hide away and process all this.

Especially their apologies.

“We’re your dads, it’s our job.” Dad laughed.

Papa looked earnest. “We’ll try.”

“That’s all I can ask for.” Sniffing, I took a big gulp of coffee. My dads had just apologized. Then given me things without strings. Fuck.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.