by Quinn Ward
“I bet he’ll be okay with it today,” I promised her, already trying to figure out how I could bribe him into taking kid duty for an hour so I could try to get back on track.
“Okay Daddy.” She followed me to the DVD player and watched as I loaded the disc. After I hit play, she wrapped her arms around my leg and held me tightly. “I don’t want you to go back to work.”
I scooped her into my arms and held her close. God, I hated this for her. I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “I know sweetie, but after today you’ll go back to Nonna’s house when I’m working. That way you don’t have to sit back here all alone.”
“But I like being by you,” she whined. “When I’m at Nonna’s, she won’t let me see you.”
“That’s because she knows I’m trying to get my work done as fast as I can so I can race back to pick you up,” I reminded her. “Now, you watch your movie and I’m going to tell Uncle Tony you’re waiting for him.”
“And you’ll give him cookies for us to share?” She bounced on the balls of her feet, rapidly blinking her big brown yes. The girl had perfected the art of emotional manipulation.
“I’ll see if I have enough,” I conceded.
“There’s always enough cookies to share.” I shouldn’t have mentioned the damn cookies. Now, she was fixated.
“But these are cookies for the Agnelli family. They’re not our cookies,” I explained. Just saying their last name caused a heaviness in my chest. Our families had always been close. Peter, being the only boy out of four children, had been easily accepted into the fold of the Marino boys. But something changed nearly a decade ago and I was the only person who could pinpoint the exact moment Peter started pulling away from everyone. It’d been eight years since he’d packed up his car and turned his back on the family that needed him. No matter what had happened, some sins were unforgivable.
“Daddy, did you hear me?” Sophia asked, tugging at the leg of my chef pants. I shook my head, regretting that I’d allowed my mind to wander down that particular lane of memories.
“I’m sorry sweetie, I was thinking about everything I still have to get done in the kitchen,” I lied. Even if she was a decade or two older, I wouldn’t have told her what I’d actually been thinking about.
“You should let me help. Nonna says I’m a good helper in the kitchen and then I wouldn’t be soooooooo bored.” I picked Sophia up and deposited her on the couch with her blankie and the stuffed sheep that’d she’d gotten for her fifth birthday from her favorite cousin. It didn’t matter that Ryan was her only cousin, she always made sure everyone knew he was her favorite.
“When I have something I need help with, I promise you’ll be the first person I ask,” I told her, quickly adding, “As long as it doesn’t involve knives or the oven.”
“Because I’m too little to use sharp things,” she said, satisfied for at least that minute that I would let her help at some point.
“That’s right, Squirt. Now, are you going to be okay back here until Uncle Tony can come and sit with you?”
“Yep. I’m good. You should to work now,” she directed me, as if I hadn’t spent the entire morning trying to do exactly that. “And I hate Squirt. Uncle Tony and Uncle Enzo call me Tinkerbell. I wanna be your Tinkerbell, too.”
Another twist of the hook. Fuck, it was going to be a long day. I wanted to tell her that was the one name I’d never call her, but she seemed so genuine in her request I conceded. “I’ll do my best.”
A little over two hours later, Matteo walked into the kitchen still dressed in the suit and tie he’d worn to the funeral. His eyes darted around, trying to take in everything that needed to be done and I knew this was going to be a disaster. As much as I loved Matteo, he tended to be spastic when he was stressed out and escorting Mama to her best friend’s funeral couldn’t have been easy.
“Teo, I need you to go out and light the Sternos under all the chafing dishes,” I instructed him, handing a lighter across the pass-through. I didn’t have the time or the energy to keep him on task, but today was not the day for him to lose his shit. As soon as I saw Frankie, I’d give him a list and he could be our baby brother’s keeper.
“Freddie, Mama wants you to come out and pay your respects to Silvio and the kids.” The kids, not the girls. That meant Peter had graced the family with his presence at his Mama’s funeral. The lost boy comes home...
“I don’t know what happened between you and Peter, but you need to remember he’s mourning the loss of his mother,” Tony lectured me as I followed him through to the bar, where the family was neatly lined up accepting condolences from everyone who’d come. At one end of the line was Silvio, the stocky man I’d always been uneasy around because of his backward thinking and misogynistic beliefs. He and Papa had a falling out after Silvio insisted it’d be better to allow their family bakery to close rather than put it in the hands of one of their daughters, even though one was a talented pastry chef. All because Peter abandoned them and didn’t give a damn about their family’s legacy.
“Nothing happened between us,” I lied. I had a feeling I’d be doing a lot of that today. There were things I’d learned about Peter that I wished I could forget, but I would never betray him by telling anyone what I’d walked in on one afternoon when I showed up early to pick him up for a church youth group camping trip.
“Tell that to someone who didn’t see how he paled every time Mama mentioned your name. The poor guy looked ready to burst into tears.”
“As you pointed out, his Mama just died and he was too caught up in his own bullshit to make it home in time to say goodbye,” I reminded him. No way in hell was Peter on the verge of tears because of me. I was nobody to him. I’d been a shit friend.
And holy fuck—my mouth felt like I’d been chewing on cotton balls when I caught sight of the man standing at the opposite end of the receiving line. The hair that used to be short and cropped into a respectable, masculine style was now shocking blond with highlights and slicked back into a low ponytail that brushed the collar of his suit jacket. The lights were dim so I couldn’t be certain, but from this distance, I swore I could see traces of eyeliner framing his eyes. My gaze traveled down the length of his body and I couldn’t help but wonder what he wore beneath the perfectly tailored trousers. If I was disappointed to see plain black dress shoes on his feet, I’d never admit it. Peter was nothing like the picture I’d painted in my mind.
Get a grip, Marino. Of course he’s not dressed the way you expected. No way Silvio would have allowed that.
“Man, you should see your face right now.” Tony chuckled as I elbowed him in the ribs. “Anything you want to share, Freddie?”
“Fuck off. Don’t you have work to do or something?” I whipped out the crudely scribbled to-do list I’d planned on giving to Frankie and handed it to Tony instead. “Here, this is shit Matteo can do without causing any damage. Think you can help him stay focused?”
“Don’t think I’m so stupid I don’t realize what you’re doing,” Tony warned me. “We will talk more about this later. But I have to say, you have good taste if he’s what can pull you out of the funk you’ve been in.”
“Go,” I demanded, pointing to where Matteo was apologizing for bumping into someone.
I cut into the receiving line when another of our former neighbors greeted me. If anyone hadn’t known I was working and not here to mingle, the chef’s white with the Marino’s logo embroidered on the chest would’ve given it away.
Silvio greeted me with cool regard. “Freddie, thank you for everything you’ve done. My Teresa would’ve loved this.” He made the sign of the cross at the mention of Mrs. Agnelli. Lucia, the eldest of the Agnelli sisters reached out to console her father.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said, the words feeling inadequate as they always did. I shook hands with Silvio and offered Lucia a hug.
The Agnelli girls had been a constant reminder of what it would be like to have pain in the ass little sisters around
and I hurt for their loss. Maria, in particular, was nearly inconsolable by the time I reached her. I held her tight, glaring over my shoulder at Peter, who was rubbing her back. Tony’s voice echoed in my head, reminding me that this wasn’t the time to crucify Peter for his absence. He was here now, and from the looks of it, at least Maria accepted him exactly as he was. And yes, his upper lids were definitely lined with black and there was the slight shimmer of eye shadow. Not appropriate for a man at his mother’s funeral in my opinion, and given the disapproving looks from other well-wishers, I knew I wasn’t alone.
“Peter, it’s good to see you.” There I went with the lies again. My heart ached and I tensed when Peter draped an arm over my shoulder. I wanted to shrug off his embrace. Wanted to wrap my arms around him and tell him how much I missed him. How much it hurt to admit the role I’d played in making him think he couldn’t live as he wanted here.
“Thank you for doing this for us,” he said. All the things he didn’t say spoke volumes. This wasn’t the time or the place to rehash the past.
“Lucia asked Frankie so she could focus on your father and your sisters,” I responded, subtly making it very clear I hadn’t done this for him. Hell, until he showed up at the restaurant I’d convinced myself even the death of his mother couldn’t bring him home.
I pulled away, making excuses about being needed in the kitchen, but Peter reached out for me. “After the dust settles, I’d like it if we could sit down and talk.”
“We’ll have to see,” I said, more as blow off than anything else. There wasn’t anything to be said that could change the past and I needed to stay focused on Sophia’s needs. Whether I liked it or not, Peter would be a distraction.
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If you enjoyed Exploration, I would love it if you let your friends know so they can experience the relationship of Frankie and Calvin as well! I have enabled lending on all platforms in which it is allowed to make it easy to share with a friend. If you leave a review for Exploration on the site from which you purchased the book, Goodreads or your own blog, I would love to read it! Email me the link at [email protected]
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Acknowledgments
There are so many people I feel the need to thank and I know I’m going to miss someone important. If that’s you, please know the oversight isn’t intentional.
First and foremost, I need to thank Shaw Montgomery. It’s hard to believe that just a year ago, you were on the other side of the country and we were talking about the pros and cons of you moving to this area. Now, you’re a friend I can’t imagine living without. Not only do you put up with my shaky social skills, you push me to reach for what I want. You’ve taught me how much I don’t know, which is a good thing. But most importantly, you’ve been there when I needed a friendly ear or a cup of coffee. Being true to myself is easier because I know you’re in my corner.
Denise and Morgan, you two will probably always be lumped together, simply because we’ve become a unit over the past few years. I love you both so much and don’t know what I’d do without you there when I’m the one who needs to be pushed along.
Will, thank you for being a sounding board throughout this entire crazy process. We will start having these meetings at the beach sometime soon!
Shellie, you’re my kink whisperer and I love you for it! Thank you for not only offering your insight, but also letting me pick your brain about what Daddy thinks.
Janeane, not many people know how to fuel a writer from the other side of the world, but you do it.
And to every single one of my readers: thank you for the messages and support when I came out earlier this year. I was terrified, but you’ve proven to me that I’m not alone. No matter where this journey takes me, I know I’ll have people cheering me to the next stop.
About Quinn
Quinn is a non-binary ace author of LGBTQ romance. Despite growing up in a liberal area of the Midwest, they always thought there were limited identities a person could claim, but none of them fit. It was partly through the LGBTQ book community online that they began to realize there was more to life than being cisgender and straight, gay, or bi.
Throughout everything, the one constant in Quinn’s life has been writing. It’s the piece of their life they’ve never questioned. It’s their safe harbor, sometimes their escape from everything that’s worrying them. And in 2018, they’re taking the next step and publishing the stories that have kept them sane.
Stay In Touch With Quinn
www.quinnwardwrites.com
[email protected]