“Mommy fixes people?” asks Roman.
“Sure,” I say, tightening a screw in the hinge. “She’s fixing me, whether she knows it or not.”
“You broken?” asks Roman. His little face screws up in confusion.
I nod solemnly. “A little less broken than when I moved in and met you though.”
He smiles, probably still not understanding most of what I mean.
I hand him a rubber mallet and let him whack at the bottom of the cabinet, which he loves.
It’s only then I notice Julia in the hallway, dressed in a simple black t-shirt. She leans against the wall, watching us with a small smile, but there’s something else in her eyes, something distant and pained. She’s trying to hide it, but I can still see it. What is she hiding? It still surprises me how fiercely I want to protect her, even if it’s not from a physical threat. It would be easy to write off and assume I only fell so hard for her because she’s one of the few women who have tried to tell me no before, but that’s not it.
I’ve been with women before who tried to change me, and I’ve been with women who didn’t care about changing me. Julia doesn’t fall neatly into either group. I know she’s not happy with the violence in my life, but I get the sense that if I step too far out of line, she won’t stick around to try to steer me back to the straight and narrow. She’ll just walk.
The most wild part is that I’ve actually been thinking of ways to get out of this life, or at least ease back on it so I can be more of the man she needs for herself and Roman. I want that. I just don’t know what else I’d do if I wasn’t doing this. I’ll figure it out for her though, if she lets me.
“Roman, it’s time for your nap, honey. Grab your dinosaur and let’s go.”
Roman sulks, but is apparently well-trained, because he just gives me a longing look and trots off to find a little plastic dinosaur, which he clutches to his chest as he follows Julia to a back room. I’m left standing in the kitchen, wondering if she expected me to leave. If that’s what she’s hoping, she’s just going to have to be disappointed, because I’m not leaving unless she demands it.
A minute later she’s back. “We need to talk quietly. He’s a light sleeper.”
I nod. “He’s a great kid.”
She smiles in a way that says she knows. “He’s the only thing that keeps me going.”
I lean on the kitchen island, frowning at her. “What’s going on with you? Are you upset about what happened last night still?”
“Sure, that’s on my list.”
“Your list?”
“Well,” she says, moving to sit at the kitchen table and counting each point off on her fingertips. “My boss is getting more and more out of control every day, the criminal who—” she catches herself, as if she was about to say something she didn’t mean to. “The criminal who walked into my life and left it in ruins comes back out of the blue and moves in next door, my mom’s medical bills.” She winces a little at the last, as if she didn’t mean to say it.
What was she about to say before? The criminal who what? The question burns, but it’s a selfish one, so I set it aside for now. “Your boss? That asshole, Ted?”
“Yes. Ted.”
“You said he’s out of control? What do you mean?”
“He is claiming he used my last paycheck to replace the chairs in the waiting room, and that he doesn’t have the money to pay me. Of course when I tried to fight it, he just threatened to turn me into the board and get my license revoked. Like always.”
“Leave that to me,” I say. “I’ll set the fucker straight.”
She shakes her head. “This isn’t a problem you can solve by brute force.”
“You think brute force is the only thing I’m good at? You seemed pretty impressed with my finesse four years ago when my head was between your legs.”
Her cheeks stain with red and she absently rubs her lip.
“Like I said. Leave him to me. I’ll handle him.”
She looks unconvinced, but still seems to be a little relieved at the prospect.
“And if you need money for your mom, let me help.” Regardless of what she says, I make a vow to myself that her mother is going to be taken care of. I’ll find a way to help her.
She fiddles with her fingers, shaking her head. “It’s nothing. I can handle my own problems without you. I’ve been doing it for four years now, and I’m still standing. Roman still has food on his plate every meal and and a warm place to sleep.”
Something in the way she seems to always connect my leaving straight back to Roman and how she has managed to raise him on her own has my intuition prickling. Most women would be pissed at me for what I did, but I don’t hear her talking about some other guy at all, some mystery father who's not in the picture anymore. She only talks about me. I’ve suspected it since I saw Roman, but my suspicion is growing more and more into a certainty by the hour.
“Where is the father?” I blurt the question out without thinking, but I don’t regret it. It needs to be asked. It should have been asked from the start. I need to know.
She averts her eyes. “I don’t know if I can trust you with that yet.”
“What, do you think I’m going to go kick his ass or something?”
She glares at me. “Would you blame me for thinking that?”
“I guess not. But you will have to tell me sooner or later.”
“Just because you inserted yourself back into my life, it doesn’t mean I have to tell you anything.”
I reel a little. She’s right, obviously. I keep forgetting that as far as she’s concerned, I spent the last four years fucking other women and barely thinking about her. If only she knew the truth. It’s frustrating as hell keeping it from her, but she has enough on her plate without knowing just how dangerous the people are who want to hurt her.
“As far as I’m concerned, you’re the only one with an obligation to open up. We’ve been making it fine without you, and we’ll keep on being fine if you are gone.”
“I’ve told you everything you need to know, and I’m not telling you more.”
“Then maybe you should just leave.”
It pisses me off. Even though I know from her perspective I must seem like I’m being dishonest, I wish she would just trust me, even a little. I step into the hallway, holding the door open for a moment. “I’ll stop by when you’ve cooled off.”
I close the door just in time to dodge the flying toy car she hurls at me. I can’t help smirking a little. As much as she wants to deny it, as much as she tries to tell me no, I know with a bone-numbing certainty that she wants me in her life. She wants me as badly as I want her, but she’s just trying to do what’s right for her son by making me jump through hoops. It’s fine by me. I’ll keep jumping if she’s the prize at the end of the course.
I tap on Jimmy Carmele’s window. He jolts upright, obviously dozing. He’s parked outside the apartment, and the fucker is supposed to be keeping an eye out for Morettis. It looks like the only thing he was keeping his eyes on was the inside of his eyelids.