“It’s not safe for you to be home alone.”
“I have a gun,” she says plainly, as if she’s talking about a new pair of shoes and not a deadly weapon.
Dad tips his head back, staring up at the ceiling, and lets out another extremely long and detailed string of curse words.
“Maybe just for a few days,” Mom says, holding on to Dad’s hand so hard her knuckles are white.
“She can stay with me. Good?” I ask them, knowing they’re right. Zoey needs to stay somewhere until we know Mark won’t retaliate, but staying in her childhood bedroom isn’t the answer.
“I’ll stay with Lulu,” Zoey says, dipping her head in my direction because she’s happy I opened my mouth to give her another option.
“Dinner,” Grandma announces at the perfect moment.
Saved by food.
“I don’t regret what I did, Dad. Oliver doesn’t have to go before a judge for something he should’ve never been involved with, and I don’t feel like a complete victim the way I did before. I took that power back, and I’ll never feel sorry about that.”
“Come on, sweetheart. Let it go for now,” Mom says. “The girls are safe, and you taught them to stick up for themselves. They did that. They’ve been through enough and don’t need you losing your shit about it now.”
“I want them to come to me,” he explains to her.
“I know, baby. You protected them their entire lives, but now they’re adults. Lulu has Oliver, and Zoey does too, in a way. You taught them to be strong, independent women. Look at them. They’re everything we could’ve wished for.”
Dad’s gaze moves in our direction, and his facesoftens. “You’re right, Delilah. Our girls are strong and brave, but that also scares the absolute shit out of me. If something were to happen to either of you…” he says, his voice cracking on the last word as he shakes his head, unable to finish the statement.
“I’ll watch over them,” Oliver promises my father.
Mom touches Dad’s cheek, trying to console him. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him in such a state in my entire life. “They’re good, Lucio.”
Dad lets out a shaky breath. “You’re right.”
“I know,” Mom says with a sweet smile. “But I usually am.”
“Thank you,” Dad says to Oliver. “I’m glad they have someone else they trust to have their backs.”
“Always,” Oliver says to my dad with a dip of his head.
“I love you two more than the air I breathe. Don’t do any more boneheaded shit, okay?”
I nod, and Zoey says, “We promise.”
“Love you two,” Mom says, pulling Dad up from the table. “The lasagna is going to be cold if you wait much longer.”
“It’s as hot as lava for an hour,” Dad tells her as he straightens and takes a step toward the bar, where all the food has been put out by my aunts.
“Fuck. That was intense,” I say when they’re far enough away not to overhear us. “And you—” I turn to Oliver and pin him with a glare “—have a big mouth.”
He shrugs, taking a pull of his beer so he can’t defend himself—although he probably doesn’t want to argue with me in front of my entire family.
“He took that pretty well,” Zoey says about our dad.
“No. He didn’t,” I refute, shaking my head.
“Better than I thought,” she adds.
“He definitely could’ve been worse.” I sigh and lift my margarita to my lips. “I’m glad I went for something stronger today.”
“I may need a second,” Zoey says with a giggle as she downs half of what is left in her glass, and I watch in amazement at how easily she’s drinking it.
