Or maybe he did, but I was too young, or I don't remember.
He turned further into work after the fallout with Mario Marino. And before his death, I didn't ask for things.
Actually, I never really did.
Am I that boring?
"One of Dad's men is getting it now. It's paid for. I got the five-quart." He starts rattling off stats, but all I want is something that'll reduce the stock-making to a fraction of the time, so I let him geek out.
When he stops, he looks at me. "I should have asked if you wanted more things from the cookware store."
"No. As long as you have stuff for soup."
"Who's making soup? And I have things. I had it kitted out. The kitchen. What else?"
I give him the ingredient list, and then, though he doesn't tell me, I'm sure his father's guy—not Con, as he's on Lyndall duty, and she must still be at her music class—is embarking on a full shopping spree.
"Who's making soup?"
I didn't even think about it, but this could be the perfectchance to get out of here. Even for a couple of hours, it'd be worth it.
"You," I say. "I guess."
"I'm not making soup."
My shoulders sag, and he closes the gap.
"Lola..."
"I'm not ready to talk about you and me, Enzo. It was a huge betrayal." Shit. I might as well go there since I'll never be out of his room. "Surely you can see that."
"It wasn't meant to be."
"Can I make it? The soup?"
"Sure." But there's a coolness in his tone. "And then you'll be back here. We'll make it tomorrow when I'm going to be home."
Frustration hits. "I wanted the soup tonight. I might be able to eat that."
I narrowly stop myself from telling him about the pregnancy because I want to see the doctor first. And I'm not ready to tell him. Not yet.
He hasn't earned that.
"You'll only get angrier when I have to put you back in here, and I don't have a lot of time to babysit tonight."
I laugh, shaking my head. "I don't need that. I'm going crazy, you know? I'm cooped up."
"Being in the house is still cooped up, and it's not safe outside, Lola. Not unless you're with me. And I've got to find this prick who tried to take you, who took Lyndall."
"Having the run of the house would make me feel less like a prisoner."
"Lola."
"I'm still incredibly angry at you." I take a breath and sit on the edge of the bed. "But I can see your point of view. I respect that this is the safest place for me, under your roof. And I promise I don't have any plans of escape."
In a way, it's true. I can see his side of things.
It doesn't make it fairer or make me less angry, but I can see it.
