Footsteps(91)

He turned around and pulled Bina close. She was looking concerned and perplexed, but she clearly hadn’t worked out the full meaning of what was going on. Neither had he, for that matter.





“I need to get in there and deal with her.”





“Her? Jenny—she is Trey’s mother?”





Carlo’s tongue froze at the thought of answering in the affirmative. “She’s…she was.”





“Carlo…”





“It’s okay, baby. Stay out here with Trey—keep him from going inside, okay? I’ll deal with her and then I’ll be back.”





The furrow in her golden brow had gotten deeper, but she nodded, and he kissed the crease away. “I love you.”





“I love you.”





She went to Trey, and Carlo and John went into the house.





The last time Carlo had seen his ex-wife had been here in Quiet Cove, at the beach, for Trey’s last birthday. Since then, he’d spoken to her twice, early on, while they finalized their annulment. He tried to formulate something in his head, to prepare something, for when he saw her again. But nothing would come; his head was too full of worry for Trey and for Bina.





As he turned the corner that brought him into the front hall, he saw Luca standing in the entry to the living room. Luca turned. He looked angry and grim.





“Sorry, Carlo. I thought tying her up and throwing her in the trunk of her car would make too much noise.”





Carlo laughed a little. “Probably. Thanks for keeping her from the party.”





“No sweat.” Luca turned and looked into the living room. “This cunt is not on the list.”





Carlo came down the hall and looked over the half wall abutting the entry. Jenny was sitting primly on the sofa, a box wrapped in bright paper with planets and stars on her lap. Planets and stars had been last year’s obsession. She saw him looking and smiled—an awkward, insincere expression. The rage and hate could have swallowed him whole. He wasn’t sure he’d even hated Auberon as much as he despised this skinny little bitch sitting here.





She looked much as she had the last time he’d seen her—rail thin, with long, straight, gold hair, dressed carefully in a long, slim, white skirt and a flouncy flowered top. She lifted her left hand and tucked her hair behind her ear—there was a ring on her finger. Not the one he’d given her, thank God. He didn’t know if it was that kind of ring at all, but it had a diamond.





He didn’t speak until he was in the room. John and Luca were both behind him, at the entry. He spoke over his shoulder. “You guys can go.”





“No.” Luca’s voice was low but firm, and Carlo turned fully around.





“What?”





“I’m thinking she’s safer if I stay. And that makes you safer. I can see it in your shoulders, big brother.” He nodded toward Carlo’s hands. “And look.”





Carlo looked down; his hands were clenched into fists.





“I’m staying. I’ll keep whatever confidence, but you need a wingman. John, get out of here, keep people outside.” John nodded and went back down the hall.





Knowing his brother was right—he felt violence heating his blood—Carlo turned back to his ex-wife. “What the holy fuck are you doing here?”





She tried that plastic smile on again—why had he thought Trey had her smile? Trey’s smile was bright and beautiful. This was just a gash across her gaunt face. Had he thought her pretty once? Lovely? Elfin? “It’s Trey’s birthday. I wanted to see my son on his birthday.”





“As far as I know, you don’t have a son. You need to leave, and you need to do it now.”





She rolled her eyes, and Carlo’s fists tightened. “Why? Are you going to hurt me? This thing right now with Luca—is that little show supposed to make me afraid? You won’t hurt me, Carlo.” She sighed and set the gift on the table in front of her. “Look. I don’t want ugliness. I miss my son. I was wrong to give him up completely. Maybe I was wrong to give him up at all. But I miss him. I want to be in his life. I would like to work that out with you. Just you and me.”





This was not a Jenny with which he was familiar. She was too composed, too seemingly confident and prepared. The woman he’d known was flighty or anxious, her control always obviously a necessary effort. The Jenny he’d known should have been vibrating with stress right now. “No.”





“What, no? You can’t just say no and think that’s the end of this. I’m his mother.”