Page 63 of His Playground
“Mama, it’s okay. You were right. My daddy is nice, and he’s taking really good care of me.”
Jazzy’s words make me wonder what Wendy actually told our daughter about me. There’s a reason she kept the kid away from me all these years, while theonly reasonshe left her with me was out of pure desperation. She hoped beyond hope that someone would love her daughter as much as she did.
“And Antonia is really nice too. I think we’re going to be okay. And maybe one day I’ll get a little brother or sister.”
I look over to Antonia and take note of her wide-eyed expression. She’s not ready to have kids yet, and I’m not going to rush her. But if she does happen to fall pregnant, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.
“And, Mama, I haven’t had to go back to school,” Jazzy whispers.
I really do need to work on that one. “Actually, Wendy, we’re going to look at a really nice school tomorrow,” I say, in case the woman can hear me wherever she is.
“We are?” Jazzy asks while looking up at me. “And who’s Wendy?”
“Yep.” I nod my head. “That was your mama’s name back when I knew her.”
“Okay. Well, Mama, I hope you’re not hurting anymore and I love you.” Jazzy leans in and kisses the headstone. “A million kisses to the stars and back,” she says.
“I’ll meet you at the car. I want to have some girl talk with Jazzy,” Antonia tells me as she takes my daughter’s hand.
I watch them walk off. I think she knows I need the time alone. It’s scary how deep my wife gets me.
“Wendy—or, ah, Penelope, I guess. Whatever you want me to call you… I really wish you had told me sooner. I could have helped you.” I sigh. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there and that you felt like you had to do it alone. You did a good job, by the way. Jazzy is a great kid.” I look around. I feel like an idiot talking to a piece of carved stone, but here I am. “I’m going to take real good care of her. You don’t have to worry about that. She’s going to be okay. I will love her enough for the both of us.”
Walking back to the car, I feel a weight lifted from my shoulders. I didn’t realize how much closure I needed for myself. I really thought I was seeking the woman out for Jazzy. Sure, I wanted answers, ones I’ll never have now. But I’m okay with that. I have my daughter. I have my wife. There isn’t anything else in the world that I need or want.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Carlo has been super attached. As in, if I move, he moves closer. If I get up and go into the kitchen to grab a drink, he follows. It’s odd, and a little concerning. This has been going on since last night.
After we took Jazzy to her mother’s headstone, we came back home and ordered pizza. Turned the television on and watched a movie. But Carlo has been hovering all morning again.
“What’s going on?” I ask him.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re attached to me like my shadow, Carlo. You’re hovering. Why?”
“Because I want to be near you. You’re my wife, Antonia, and I happen to like your company an awful lot. So, if I’m hovering, it’s because I don’t want to be away from you,” he says.
“That’s… sweet. I think. But like you keep saying, I’m your wife. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t need to hover.”
Carlo’s smile widens. “Well, Mrs. Bianchi, get used to me being your shadow, because I like being close to you.” His arm wraps around my back, and he pulls me against his chest. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like being close to him too.
“I don’t mind you being close, as long as it’s because you want to be and not because you think you have to be.”
“Trust me, I want to be wherever you are, Antonia.” He presses his lips against mine.
“Ew, Antonia, boys have germs. Tío E told me that if you kiss boys, you’ll get sick and Uncle Louie said boys are the grossest,” Jazzy announces before her smile quickly fades. “You’re not going to get sick, are you?”
“No, sweetheart, I don’t think I am. Your uncles are idiots,” I tell her before turning to Carlo. “And you need to stop letting them hang around her so much.”
“Why? They’re not wrong. Boys are gross, Jazzy. Best you stay away from them forever,” Carlo adds.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t listen to them. Boys are notthat gross. Just a little bit.” I laugh. “Now, you ready to go and have a look around this school?”
“Mhmm, I think so.” Jazzy nods. “But what if they’re mean?”
“Then you punch them right in the mouth to shut them up,” Carlo tells her.
