Chapter 24—Bobby
Knock-knock.
I don’t let the wait deter me as I stand outside Willow’s apartment door. I didn’t call before coming over, just came downstairs after getting the notification that they already had a delivery this morning.
When she opens the door, I smile. God, she’s beautiful. Even rumpled from sleep, hair high in a ponytail, she looks good enough to eat in the pajama set I gifted her that first night here.
“Hey,” I greet her. “Sorry again for last night. I hope the girls weren’t too upset.”
Something I should have expected when I made plans with Willow yesterday after our afternoon romp.
Something I plan to do every Friday in the near future.
Still, I got called into work. Not office work, but famiglia work.
Something I couldn’t get out of. But I kept my word—I called and let her know I couldn’t stop by.
She understood because my girl is nothing but amazing, but I still felt bad. Especially after the entire week of not calling and seeing what that did to her. She didn’t say more than that I didn’t call, but it was in her voice, in her tone. She was sad, something I refuse to make her feel again.
So, I sent in reinforcements. Which came in the form of a new nail polish kit for them to share, an elaborate meal, and more snacks than they probably needed, but I wanted to make sure I covered all my bases. Including chocolate-covered strawberries.
“They weren’t, especially after your little gift. You know you don’t have to buy them things. They understand you had work.”
“I know, but I still wanted to,” I say with a sheepish grin as I stuff my hands into my pockets.
Some days I feel like a king, self-assured and untouchable. But around Willow, talking about the girls, I worry I’m not doing enough.
It’s quick for them, I know that. Leone men are known for falling and acting quickly when they find the one they want.
Most people in the famiglia are the same.
Why wait when that could cost a life, maybe even your own?
But Willow isn’t part of the famiglia—well, not yet.
She might know some things, hinted at them, but I know she’s not connected in any way.
I’ve looked into it. Well, Danny has. Full background on her—twice, from what I know—which he sent to me the day after he saw me in the elevator with her.
“It’s actually a good thing you didn’t come by last night. Ivy’s been up most of the night. Caught a bug at school, I think, or just too much fun lately.”
“Oh no. Is she okay?”
“She’s resting now. She’s on fluids, but she isn’t keeping much down.”
“I’ll call the doctor.” I reach for my phone, but she stops me from calling.
“We’ve been through it before. Most of the time, they won’t see a child unless it’s been twenty-four hours of not keeping liquids or food down, or if their temp goes over a certain number.
Right now, she has a mild fever at best. I put in an order for Pedialyte and some kids’ aspirin to try and help. ”
“That’s it?” That doesn’t seem right. Shouldn’t children be taken in immediately to make sure it’s not something else? They’re small. They can catch things far more dangerous than a stomach bug.
She shrugs. “Kind of. We just wait and see and hope it’s only a twenty-four-hour bug.”
“How are you so calm?” I’m freaking the fuck out. Outwardly, I’m holding it together, but just barely.
She smiles and leans against the doorframe. “Been through it enough times to know when to panic and call the ER and when not to. Trust me, she’ll be fine. If not, I can do the Teladoc option, and they can get us a prescription in a few hours if it gets worse.”
A few hours? That’s unacceptable.
“Can I see her? How’s Lily? What about you?”
“Lily’s fine. A bundle of energy, like usual.
I could use more than twenty minutes of sleep, but I’ll survive.
And Ivy is a couch potato who has full control of the TV remote.
All in all, we’re good. But thank you for checking on us.
I would invite you in, but I don’t want you to catch anything just in case it’s more than a small bug. ”
“Aren’t you afraid you’ll catch it?”
“If Lily or I have it, we should be acting the same soon. Again, only time will tell.”
“Hmm.” I get what she’s saying, but… I just don’t agree with it. “I’d best stick around to make sure I’m here to help.” I step forward, and she retreats at my unexpected desire to come in.
“You don’t have to do that. I swear we’ll be fine. We’ve dealt with this before on our own.”
I stop both of us when I put my hand on her face and rub her cheek. “And now you don’t have to.”
And just like that, all the bravado drops, and I see the exhaustion she was hiding come out. She was being strong, like she had to be because it all fell on her.
But not anymore.
“Go get some sleep, Wildflower. I’ll take care of your girls.” I lean in and peck her forehead before walking around her and going into the living room.
“Mr. Bobby!” Lily jumps up from sitting on the floor with her colors and runs at me. I pick her up easily and revel in her strong arms wrapped around my neck for a hug.
“Hey, pretty ladies. How are you?” I ask both of them as I round the couch to see Ivy lying still with an empty bowl beside her.
“I’m sick,” Ivy says with more moans and groans than most men I’ve tortured. And she’s the only one I feel bad for.
“I heard.” I sit down on the other side of her, showing her I don’t mind as I let Lily go back to her drawing. “I told your mama that I’m going to hang out with you for a while so she can get some rest. Is that okay with you?”
Ivy nods, and Lily just smiles at me. I turn my head and see that Willow has shut the front door, but other than that, she’s still standing where I left her. “Go on. I’ve got this.”
Her eyes mist a bit, but with a nod, she walks to her room and shuts the door.
I lean back into the couch, and Ivy moves to lean against me. I rest my arm around her as Lily comes to show me a picture she’s coloring.
I might not know how to do everything, but I learned from my dad that showing up counts more than a lot of other things. And from the way all my girls are acting, I made the right call to stay.
By the time Willow comes out from a four-hour nap, I’ve learned everything there is to know about Barbie.
I knew of the doll because Milly, my sister, had a few.
I just had no idea that the woman had so many jobs.
We’ve watched cartoon after cartoon, each one featuring a different career field.
That’s why the girls like her—they can both be like her and also like different things.
Lily is the attention-seeking high-fashionista, while Ivy is into the science and math areas of life.
Both are brilliant in their own way, and while I knew about these traits during our after-school program shopping, it’s good to see that I guessed right when I asked several questions over our time together.
“Hey,” Willow whispers as she comes up behind me on the couch. I heard the door when she opened it but remained reading with Lily on the couch.
She touches my shoulder briefly before she moves around us to kneel on the floor in front of Ivy.
“How’s she doing?”
“She threw up twice, each time after the Pedialyte. I had her sip some ginger ale this last time, and she just went to sleep about ten minutes ago. I hope that’s okay. My mama used to give it to us when my brothers and sister got sick.”
She nods as she brushes her hand softly over the honey curls on Ivy’s head. “That’s fine. Ginger is a natural remedy for nausea. I didn’t think we had any of that in the house.”
“You didn’t. I had some upstairs that I had Marco get for me.”
A soft knock pulls both our attention, but I shake my head at Willow when she moves to get up.
“I’ll get it. Save my place, Lily. I need to know if the fox will eat those green eggs.
” I lift her off me and set her on the couch before going to the door.
I’m expecting Marco, as I asked him to bring some soup, so I don’t look out, which is a mistake on my part.
A big one.
The second I open the door, I close my eyes.
“Mama. What are you doing here?”
I open them at her sigh and see her lips pursed together. “Roberto Salvatore Leone. Did you really think you could get away with calling the family doctor and not expect me to find out about it?”
“I had hoped,” I mumble as I look away, agitated that the man I called to get a second opinion about Ivy’s illness would tattle on me to my mother. Not that I didn’t trust Willow. I was just worried.
“Well, that was foolish of you. Now step aside so I can see to her myself.”
There really is no reasoning with Mama, not even with this. So, with no other options, I let her in, shutting the door behind her as she makes her way into the apartment.
“Oh.” Willow’s head pops up from resting it on the couch by Ivy at seeing my mother round the couch. Lily is looking at my mama with curious eyes but is holding herself back for once.
“Don’t get up, sweetie. Stay with your little girl. I’m only here to check in on you and make sure my son hasn’t messed anything up.” She flicks her eyes to me with a glare, and I roll my eyes.
“Son?” Willow squeaks out a second before she scrambles to her feet and pats at her hair.
“Sorry, Willow, but my mother”—this time I glare at her, but she only smiles as she keeps looking at Willow and not me—“heard about Ivy. I called my doctor before giving her the ginger ale just to be sure it wouldn’t hurt her empty stomach.
He then called Mama, and Mama… well, as you can see, she has a tendency to poke her nose into things that don’t need poking into.
Mama, as you can see, everything is fine.
I didn’t ruin the child. You can go now. ”
I gesture to the door, which she ignores.
“I brought soup.”
Willow had opened her mouth to say something, but she stops at my mother’s words.
“It might not seem necessary, but I fed it to my kids each time they were under the weather, and they were quickly back to feeling like their old selves. Though grumpier than usual, at least for that one.” Mama flicks her head in my direction, but she does it with a conspiratorial smile that gets a surprise laugh from Willow.
“I hope that’s okay.” Mama pulls it from her usual oversized handbag and hands it to my girl.
“Yes, thank you. Um, this is my other daughter, Lily. Lily, say hi, sweetie.”
She waves, and Mama winks at her.
“Ivy’s the one who’s sick, but I guess you knew that already. And I’m—”
“Willow, dear. Yes, I know. My son tells me things, sometimes.” Her eyes narrow toward me.
Willow’s eyes go wide as she glances at me for a second before looking back at Mama.
I look down and shake my head. I do tell her things, but not this. That would be one of my other brothers. One of my soon-to-be-dead brothers. I wanted Willow to myself for a while. But now that Mama has seen her, there’s very little chance of that happening.
“I’m going to kill Danny,” I mutter.
“Vinny, dear. If you’re going to do anyone in, at least get the one who needs to have the blame. Otherwise, it’s just a waste.”
Typical Mama. She went in with eyes wide open when she married Dad.
She knew what he was, and she stood by his side and helped him make the family what it is.
She’s sweet but also knows how to play the game.
And how to get revenge. No one talks about it, but Mama was part of taking down the family that killed Papa.
Rumor is, she even killed the very man himself who shot Dad, but like I said, no one talks about it.
And I know when to ask my mama a question and when to just leave it alone.
Like now.
“I’ll put it in the fridge until Ivy wakes up.” I reach out to take the soup from her.
“Let me get you something to drink.” Willow moves before she’s told not to, rounding the side of the couch quickly and meeting me at the fridge.
Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “Your mother’s here?”
“Appears so.” I don’t hide my frustration at it, but then I look at Willow and nudge her with my shoulder, giving her a small smile.
“She’s not so bad. And the soup is actually good.
I was trying to remember how to make it without letting her know about all of this because I thought she’d do just what she’s doing.
” I look back and see she already has Lily on her lap, reading softly to her like I was.
“She has a way of just fusing herself into someone’s life. ”
One thing I love about her, even if it’s mildly agitating.
“But it’s your mother. In my house.” She bites her bottom lip and looks around at everything, and I do the same.
Are things out? Yes. It’s a lived-in home with sick kids. Nothing is perfect, and Mama knows that. But Willow doesn’t.
“Wildflower.” I speak quietly so only she can hear as I close the space just a hair between us. There’s still plenty of room, nothing for her to worry about in front of her girls, since I doubt she’s told them about me. Or my mother, with her not-so-subtle side glances.
“She’s here to help. That’s all she cares about. Nothing else. Your home is your home, and Mama would never look down on it. Not ever. Now relax.” I chance the risk because I know the island blocks our hands and squeeze hers.
“Come sit down, breathe, and meet my mother. She doesn’t bite, and if she did, I’ll take the brunt of it before I let any harm come to you or the girls.”
She nods. “Okay. Roberto?” she questions before moving.
I smirk as I pull her along with me, dropping her hand at the last second. “My family is Italian. It might say that on my birth certificate, but everyone calls me Bobby.”
“Unless he’s in trouble. Feel free to use it on him, too, dear.” Mama winks at Willow, who turns beet red, but at least she nods.
Has to be a good sign. Right?