by Quinn Ward
Rather than rushing to convince him I was doing exactly what I wanted to do, I took a minute to let his words sink in. It was true I had worked damn hard to build a name for myself here, but maybe this was a stepping stone for something more in life. Maybe I needed to think outside the box of the glamourous life to find what would make me truly happy.
“Ah, I think you understand that I am right,” Michael observed. “When today is done, you will go and find the lovely man who was here earlier and tell him that you will do what is needed to live a life with him. You are a lucky man.”
Yeah, I really was.
The rest of the afternoon, nothing could get me down. Not Angela glaring daggers at me or her snarky comments. Although I was tempted to ask her what in the fuck was scrambled in her brain that she could waste energy being a petty bitch over a man she’d left but couldn’t be bothered to pick up the phone to call her daughter. Oh well, her loss was my gain, because you could be damn sure I wasn’t going to make the same mistake.
The train home was rank and we were packed in like sardines; that did nothing to improve my mood. My heart raced, and I was out of breath by the time I reached the front door of my apartment. I closed my eyes and offered up a prayer that I didn’t walk in to deafening silence. When I didn’t see Freddie camped out on the couch or putzing around in the kitchen, anxiety left me a shaky mess. I had to will my feet toward the bedroom, stopping with my hand on the knob, repeating my plea to god or the universe or whoever before pushing the door open.
“Hey, I wasn’t sure if that was you or not,” Freddie greeted me. Pillow lines creased his cheek and somehow it made him look adorable. He pushed himself off the bed and was almost instantly enveloping me in his strong arms. “I’m sorry for the way I acted earlier. I panicked. It’s not fair or right, but I can’t say it won’t happen again. I know you’re not like her.”
“That’s a good thing.” Even though I was so relieved I could’ve easily broken down in tears, I didn’t want him thinking he could pull this shit whenever he wanted and I’d keep taking it. “You’re right; I’m not your ex-wife. For one thing, she could never hope to pull off those heels she wore today half as well as I do.”
Freddie threw his head back in laughter, meaning my quip had the intended effect. “Babe, you’ve got her in just about every category. But I’m trying to be serious here. I’ll grovel if I have to, but I don’t want my insecurity costing me you. We can’t lose you, too.”
He intertwined his fingers in mine and led me to the bed. Instead of sitting next to me, Freddie dropped to his knees and started untying the laces of my boots, pulling them off and tossing them into the closet. I moaned when he started working my aching feet with his hands, paying close attention to the balls and arches, which always hurt like hell after I spent all day behind the makeup chair.
“I know you have obligations and a business you’re running here, but I want to find a way for us to make it work,” he told me as he wrestled with the fabric of my pants. Damn me for wearing something tight, because my calves were screaming for his attention. I thought about stripping out of them, but somehow, that didn’t feel right. This wasn’t a sexual moment, it was Freddie trying to show how much he cared about me, and we’d never proven very good at keeping our hormones in check when either of us started undressing. “If you have to split your time between here and Annandale, I’ll understand, but I’m not giving up on us.”
“I don’t want to do that.” Being with Freddie–and Sophia–was all or nothing. With everything they’d been through because of Angela, it’d be too hard on them to say goodbye to me over and over. I knew they’d spend our times apart wondering if I was coming back. They needed–deserved–stability. Freddie’s hands dropped to his sides, and he stared at the ground in front of him. When he closed his eyes and his breath hitched, I reached out to soothe him. “Look at me.”
He did and the emotions painted across his face were raw and painful to witness. “I knew it was too much to ask.”
“Listen to me, Freddie,” I pleaded, curling my fingers into his hair as much as I could, pulling slightly until he met my gaze. “I don’t want to split my time between here and home because I couldn’t stand being away from you. I was terrified all afternoon, thinking you might not be waiting for me. Walking away from you and Sophia isn’t an option. The two of you are everything to me. You’re the boy I always dreamed about spending my life with but didn’t think it’d ever happen, and Sophia’s the little pixie who stole my heart the moment she insisted that we be best friends because I’m the Peter Pan to her Tinkerbell.
“And I suppose I have been Peter Pan in some ways, doing whatever I wanted and refusing to grow up. But sometimes, you have to take a hard look at your dreams and make sure you’re not chasing after something you no longer want.” As I spoke, Freddie leaned forward, resting his head on my knee.
“I realized today that I did exactly what I set out to do when I left Annandale; I wanted to prove that I could be the fiercest bitch in the land, doing makeup without it mattering that I was a guy” I explained, running my fingers through Freddie’s hair. “It wasn’t as fun as it used to be, because I know we’re going into the busy season and I couldn’t get my mind off how I’d deal with working through fashion week without you here for me because you have your own life you have to get back to. I don’t want to go through all that. I want to do something that’ll allow me to be the one who takes care of Sophia after school and puts her to bed on the nights when you’re closing. I want to make you dinner, even though I’m a horrible cook, because you deserve to have someone taking care of you, too.”
“I want that too,” Freddie admitted with a sigh. He turned his head and kissed the inside of my thigh. “I want all of it but I was too scared to say it, because I didn’t want you resenting me down the road for pushing you to a life that wasn’t yours.”
“Then let’s talk about where we go from here.” I took Freddie’s hand in mine and pulled him off the floor. Now that I knew how talented his hands were, we would be revisiting this whole massage thing.
But first, we needed to get something to eat. I was starving because I’d been too worked up to eat much after Freddie left. I rummaged through the bottom of my closet for a pair of comfortable shoes while Freddie got ready to go.
“You know my family’s going to shit a brick that I’m willing to move home for you when I wouldn’t for them, right?” I said once we were outside. Freddie had surprised me by suggesting we wander a bit and see if we found a restaurant that looked interesting.
Freddie stood a bit taller now that we’d successfully worked our way past today’s hurdle, sliding his hand around to the small of my back as we walked down the sidewalk without the tension that was usually there. I prayed his acceptance of us as a couple would continue once we drove home. And we would be driving, because when I left this time, I had no intention of coming back unless there was a very temporary assignment I absolutely couldn’t pass up, but that wouldn’t be until our relationship was stable enough that my chosen family believed I’d be back when I said I would.
“We’ll deal with it together,” he promised me, turning to kiss the side of my head. “You’re probably right that it’s going to be unpleasant, but I would hope they’ll eventually understand you would’ve been dead inside if you’d tried to take over the bakery. The kitchen is a place you go when you need to think or relax, not where your passion comes to life.”
“I’m going to talk to Papa when I get home,” I informed him, hoping my voice wasn’t shaky. The idea of confronting Papa and telling him he could accept me as I am or not be a part of my life made me queasy, but it needed to be done. I couldn’t risk losing time with him if he was capable of opening his narrow mind, but it was no longer essential. “I’m not going to hide the fact that I’m back home.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“And I think it’d be for the best if I do it on my own,” I clarified. Freddie didn’t need
to get sucked into the black hole that was my family. He knew a lot of the differences in our home lives as kids, but Papa was the worst and I wasn’t sure what to expect from him now that Mama wasn’t around to play the peacekeeper.
“Absolutely not,” he argued, placing his free hand on my chest as he stepped in front of me. “This is going to be hell for you and I’m not sending you over there alone. I’ll stay out of the conversation, but I want us to show him a united front. He needs to understand that you being gay isn’t some abstract concept. We’re in love. We are a family and the sooner he gets that, the better.”
I hadn’t realized it was possible for me to love Freddie any more than I already did, but it was. He was staking his claim on me, not just in the bedroom, but in every facet of his life. I laid my head on his chest and held him tight, paying little attention when pedestrians jostled us as they passed in a hurry to get wherever they were going. “I love you, Freddie Marino. Thank you for not slamming the door when I asked for a chance to talk to you.”
17
Freddie
“Would you quit asking me if I’m sure this is what I want?” Peter leaned forward, banging his head against the dashboard as I inched forward in traffic, moving so slowly it’d be quicker to get out and walk the rest of the way home. “If I wasn’t committed to moving in with you and starting my life over, I wouldn’t have given up my spot at the apartment. You don’t understand how expensive most places are up there, and I stayed because it was cheap as hell. But I’m hopelessly in love with you and this feels right.”
He hitched a thumb to the stacks of boxes filling everything but the front two seats of the small SUV we’d rented to get back to Annandale. “And if that’s not enough for you, consider the fact I went through everything I own, debating whether I loved my stuff enough to box it up and load it into the car. You saw how much shit I got rid of. I liked that stuff, but I love you and Sophia. So yeah, I’m sure this is what I want.”
I took Peter’s hand in mine and raised it to my lips. “I’m sorry. Eventually, I’ll settle down and let myself be happy, but it’s going to take time. Remember, the last person I tried sharing my life with took off because we weren’t enough.”
“And you need to remember I’m not her. I’ve lived my life. Had my fun. Now, it’s time for me to come home and work on new dreams.” Peter pressed his hand against my thigh to keep me from bouncing my leg as I waited for traffic to move again. “As much as I miss my mama, I believe she had a hand in all of this. Her death brought me home, and it was nothing short of a miracle that you didn’t turn me away. Over the past few months, you’ve shown me things I never knew I wanted, but I can’t imagine going back to New York without you. The apartment—hell, my life—would be empty without you in it.”
“Okay.” Traffic ahead of us started moving, and eventually we picked up the pace. I took steadying breaths to keep myself from asking yet again if he was sure about this. Sophia was going to be over the moon when we told her, and I knew my fear of how she’d react if he changed his mind fueled my anxiety. But he was right; I needed to trust him, otherwise, I’d wind up sabotaging everything.
“We’re still stopping by my father’s place on the way to Mama’s, right?” Peter asked when I got off the interstate. He tugged at his lower lip as he flipped the cell phone over in his hands. We’d talked about how he wanted to approach his family to inform them he was back in town permanently, and he’d decided it’d be for the best to ask all his sisters to meet us at Silvio’s house. I wasn’t so sure it was smart to put himself in a position where they could come at him from all sides, but he insisted this was the only way he could get through it.
“I’m following your lead, babe,” I told him, lifting my hand to brush the hair away from his face when I stopped at a red light. “If you’re not ready, we don’t have to do it tonight.”
I would be more than happy to delay the confrontation with the Agnelli family until both of us had a chance to relax and spend some quality time with Sophia. Peter had this hope they’d all realized life is too short to hold grudges following his mama’s death, but I wasn’t holding my breath. Silvio was an arrogant, stubborn old man who made it clear he was the ruler of their family. Other than Maria, it’d be a cold day in hell before he earned their forgiveness for not taking over the bakery. Even worse, I worried Silvio would resent me because Peter willingly uprooted his life for love when he wouldn’t for familial obligation.
“I want to get it over with,” he said, his voice wavering uncertainly. “When we get home tonight, I don’t want my father’s reaction hanging over my head. The only thing I want is to curl up on the couch with you and Sophia, listening to her tell us everything she and her Nonna did while we were gone.”
“Don’t forget we have to unpack the car first,” I reminded him. There wouldn’t be anything wrong with leaving that until tomorrow, but I had to get back to Marino’s and make sure everything hadn’t been fucked up while I’d been off on vacation. Frankie had sent a few text messages letting me know everything was fine and that he wanted to talk to me about giving Carlos a raise and more responsibilities, but that was all I’d heard.
Once upon a time, I’d have resented my brother pressuring me to share the kitchen management responsibilities, but now I realized that’d been my coping mechanism to ignore my dead-end marriage. If he thought Carlos would make a good assistant kitchen manager, we would sit down and discuss how to divide the responsibilities because, for once, I didn’t want to spend as much time as possible sweating my ass off in front of the grill.
The future of Marino’s was still my passion, but there was more to life now. I wanted to do my job and come home to my family, spending the evenings hearing about Sophia’s day at school and Peter’s at whatever job he wound up finding.
While I navigated my way through the neighborhood where our families grew up, I slowed at the entrance of the park where I first realized what I felt for Peter was more than friendship. Peter was busy texting back and forth with his sisters as we drove past the elementary school where the two of us had walked hand-in-hand for the first day of second grade, me leaning in close to promise Peter I wouldn’t let anyone pick on him for being one of the smallest boys in our grade. The year before had been hell on him, and he’d cried that morning, begging his mama to let him stay home. It was only because Frankie and I swore to look after him we finally got him out of the house.
“Everything okay?” I asked when I noticed Peter glaring at the display of his phone. He let out a frustrated huff and tossed his phone onto the dashboard.
“Lucia’s not coming.” He sounded dejected and my heart ached for him. She would be the toughest for him to win over. When things calmed down, I might admit to him I understood where she was coming from. She was me in female form: the child who would’ve given anything to take over the family business but wasn’t given a second glance. It had to suck even more for her because Silvio was such an old-fashioned prick he’d rather the bakery close than hand over the reins to his eldest daughter, who he thought belonged at home raising a family. “She said she’s not interested in hearing anything I have to say.”
“Give her time, babe,” I suggested. “And if she never comes around, that’s okay, too. I know you want to be close to your family, but the reality is that might never happen. You’re all very different people, and if it wasn’t for a genetic bond, you’d probably never interact with one another.”
“But that’s what makes us family,” he argued.
“True, but if the family you’re related to makes you miserable or tries to change the person I happen to love, then they’re not worth it.”
I pulled up along the curb in front of the Agnelli house and turned off the engine. Both of us sat there until we watched the front door open and Maria came bounding down the stairs. The moment Peter was out of the car, she jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around him like a spider monkey. The siblings laughed as they hugged and Peter kissed the
side of her head. “Good to see you, too.”
“You can’t leave again. It sucks so much when you’re not here,” she complained. Silvio barking commands echoed from somewhere deep inside the house. “He’s such an asshole. I can’t wait until my birthday so I can get the hell out of here. I don’t know how much more I can take, Bubby.”
My heart melted a little for him, hearing her call him by the nickname he used to despise. Even if, by some chance, the fire between us smoldered and died out in time, I knew as I watched the two of them hold on to one another like a lifeline, he was making the right move by coming home. Not for me and Sophia, but for himself and the connection he’d created to one of his siblings.
“I’m here,” he whispered over and over, smoothing a hand over her hair. “I’m not going anywhere. And you’ll always have a place with us.”
He looked to me for confirmation, and I nodded. I’d told him on the drive I wanted him to think of my place as our place from now on. Eventually, I hoped to add his name to the mortgage, but that wasn’t a decision to be taken lightly, and I hadn’t even mentioned it to him yet. Merging our lives to that extent was a huge commitment, and I didn’t want him to feel rushed or pressured.
“Are you going to come in or just give the neighbor’s something to talk about, prancing around in the front yard?” Silvio hollered. Both Peter and Maria stiffened, so I stepped closer to them, placing a hand on each of their shoulders.
“Don’t let him get to you,” I said quietly. “He’s always been a hard man to deal with, and right now, he’s still reeling from losing your mama. Give him a chance.”
I couldn’t believe I was trying to convince them to cut Silvio some slack, but it wouldn’t do anyone any good for them to walk into the house with their defenses up. If Silvio felt threatened, he’d get nasty; we’d all seen that happen more times than we could count.