Footsteps(98)
“Luca and John are both busy. Carmen, too. I don’t want you to do anything different from what you were planning for the day. Just have some company and keep an eye out for anything weird. If you think something’s off, assume it is. Okay?”
She felt a heavy weight of responsibility for Trey. “You’re sure we shouldn’t stay here?”
“I’m sure. I don’t want to overreact, and I don’t want his day getting screwed with over it. I have a meeting this morning, and then lunch with Pete and two meetings in the afternoon. I should be back around six or so, unless traffic sucks.”
She nodded, feeling worried and happy both.
“Ms. Bina, what’s on my plate?”
Sabina turned to see Trey poking with suspicion at his breakfast. “That’s an egg, Mr. Trey.”
He turned a look on her that said she was clearly pulling his leg, but he was no fool. “Daddy, is this an egg?”
“Yup. Just a different kind than you usually have. Try it.” Carlo sat down and used his fork to lift one of his eggs onto a piece of toast.
Worried that she had, again, failed at the task of feeding Trey, Sabina sat at her own place and asked Carlo, “Should I have…”
“It’s fine. He’ll eat anything.”
Trey poked again and broke the yolk. Yellow oozed over his plate, and Trey looked up at them with a grin. “My egg is peeing!” And then he laughed so hard his face turned red. Carlo and Sabina both followed suit.
Carlo tousled his son’s hair. “You’re a funny guy, pal. Eat your peeing egg.”
Sabina watched her boys eat and thought of past mornings, those of her life before. She thought of the last morning she’d spent in the house in Providence, when Gloria had made Eggs Benedict, and when James had stabbed her breast with a knife covered in egg and hollandaise.
He’d stabbed her until she’d bled, and then he’d sucked the blood from her breast. Then he’d pushed her head into his discarded breakfast and fucked her.
That was the life she’d had before.
What she had now could not possibly be wrong.
~oOo~
Joey’s jaw had been wired for weeks and weeks. He was due to get released from his torment in a few days, but his mood had only seemed to get surlier as the end of his sentence of near-silence approached.
However, he was always cordial with Sabina, and he doted on Trey, so she expected to have a nice day together. He arrived at the house around ten, after Sabina and Trey had cleaned up breakfast—Trey had cleared the table, bringing each dish to her individually, including each piece of flatware—and they had spent some time coloring together.
Joey came in the front door, and Elsa got up and greeted him. Trey looked up from the starfish he was coloring green, but he didn’t get overly excited until Joey came into the kitchen.
“Hey, Three-peat,” Joey gritted through his clamped teeth. He’d gotten more adept at making himself clear.
“Look, Uncle Joey! It’s a starfish that’s growing a new leg!”
“That’s wicked awesome, bro. What d’you want to do today?”
“Daddy said I could fly my shark. Right, Ms. Bina?”
“That’s right. Why don’t you go get it, and I’ll clean up the colors.”
Trey jumped down from his chair and trotted off. Joey called after him, “Get your swim stuff, too, bro. We can look for starfish after lunch.”
They heard a “Yay!” from the staircase as Trey clomped up to his room.
Sabina put the crayons back in the big box and gathered up the coloring books. “How are you, Joey?”
“I’m good. All good. You’re around a lot now—did you move in?”
There was a bit of an edge to his question, she thought, and she stopped and looked at him. “No.”
He nodded and leaned on the island. “It’s cool and all. Carlo’s just been…I don’t know…” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
There were thickets between Carlo and Joey that she didn’t understand, so she elected not to pursue this strange non-conversation. Instead, she asked, “Why ‘Three-peat’? This name you have for Trey. I don’t understand it.”
He laughed—though his closed teeth, the effect was rather macabre. “He’s Carlo the third, right? Three-peat—it’s a sports thing. Means three in a row, kinda. Like one more than a repeat.”