Chapter 25

TWENTY-FIVE

“ I miss home, Mama.”

Xavier and Elsie had once again left by helicopter yesterday evening but had bid us to join them in the morning along with the nanny via Range Rover, driven by Ben. It was still a long ride, but I supposed better than the train.

Miriam sat up front, flirting with Ben while he navigated deeper into the Northern English countryside. Sofia, however, didn’t seem to be entertained by any of it. Not the sheep she could spot out the windows. Not the games on her new iPad. My little girl simply slumped with her head leaning on my arm, sighing every so often while she threaded her little fingers through Tyrone’s rainbow tail, which was getting threadbare these days.

I stroked her curling black hair away from her face. “You mean the flat?”

Sofia shook her head and sat up. “No, I mean our house. I miss Zio and Nonna and my aunties and even those hooligan cousins.”

I blinked, holding back a smile. For one of the first times, Sofia was able to pronounce “hooligan” without any impediment around the l . Sometime over the summer, my little girl had grown up a little bit more.

I couldn’t help feeling like I’d missed it.

“I know, baby,” I told her honestly. “I miss home, too.”

“When are we going back?”

I shrugged, wanting to be able to give her something definite, despite the fact that a four-year-old wouldn’t really understand the difference between one week and ten, and that dates might as well have been a foreign language.

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” I said. “But we’ll have to figure something out before school starts.”

Sofia nodded as if that sufficed. “I want to show Zio my drawings of the big Ferris wheel,” she said, and then continued to babble about the other drawings and knick-knacks from the summer she wanted to bring back with her.

I avoided the truth—that I honestly wasn’t sure if we had a home to go back to. My baby girl didn’t know yet that her beloved uncle was leaving and that we might have to leave that house too, even if it was to go back to the Bronx to live with Nonna. Granted, I didn’t think Matthew would pull the rug out from under us right away, but he did say he was leaving in September. Which meant we needed to get home sooner rather than later to figure out these answers. Whatever they might be.

As I stared out the window toward the still-foreign land around me, I couldn’t help feeling like we were traveling in the wrong direction.

We arrived in Kendal just past two, and Sofia was swept off immediately to the nursery for a snack. I dropped the things I’d brought to Parkvale in the bedroom I’d been assigned last time, then crept down the corridor where Xavier’s office doors stood open. I peeked inside and found him hunched over another mess of papers, shoulders hunched, hair falling forward from his brow. He looked exhausted. And very sad.

“Um, hi,” I ventured quietly.

Xavier started, then stood when he saw me. He had changed out of his rugby clothes into more comfortable jeans and a T-shirt. But he hadn’t shaved or even brushed a comb through his hair, which made me wonder if he’d even eaten or slept at all. He moved like he wanted to come to me, but then stopped himself and remained behind the desk.

“Hi,” he said softly. Then, with a shy smile, “I’m glad you’ve come.”

I nodded. “Of-of course.” I wanted to add so much more. Things like “I’m here for you” or “I need you” or “We’re a family, right?”

But I couldn’t. Not when I didn’t know if he felt those things too. Not if I didn’t know for sure if they were true.

“How is he?” I ventured as I slid into the office, though I kept one of the leather club chairs and the desk between us. “Your uncle.”

I assumed Henry was still with the living—if anything, because there wasn’t that veil of mourning I distinctly remembered from when Nonno died. That kind of sadness touches everything.

“He’s…” Xavier sighed. “Still with us. But I’m told it won’t be long. A hospice nurse arrived this morning.”

I frowned. “So there’s no possibility of any recovery?”

Xavier shook his head. “No. The stroke was too severe. Too much damage to his brain, they say. He’s not brain dead yet, but it’s advancing. And when he is, they’ll remove the ventilator, and that will be that. He had an advance decision written up years ago. It was very clear about a case like this.”

I swallowed. “I’m—I’m so sorry, Xavi.”

Those big shoulders gave a heavy shrug. I’m sure he’d been hearing that all day.

“Could I…would it be all right if I sat with him a bit?” I wondered. “Only if no one else is there, of course. I don’t want to impose on your time with him.”

I remembered Nonno in the end. As uncomfortable as it had made me, just a kid at eleven or so, I could see the joy that flickered in his eyes when his grandchildren visited him. Often, the old and frail receive the least amount of love in this world. I didn’t know Henry Parker. But he deserved what little compassion I could offer in his final days.

Xavier looked up in clear surprise, warmth flickering in those blues. It was my favorite expression of his, but possibly his saddest. It told me exactly how infrequently he had encountered true kindness.

“Of course. He liked— likes you,” he corrected himself quickly. “Come on, I’ll take you.”

“No, it’s all right,” I said. “You’re busy. And I remember where it is.”

Xavier looked wounded, like he wasn’t sure what to make of that response. To be honest, I didn’t know what to make of any of this. After last night, everything was up in the air. We’d shouted at each other for an hour, and I’d genuinely thought we were through, only for him to break down in my lap until he finally got up the nerve to call for a car to take us to Parkvale. From there, things had gone quickly—him to a helicopter, me to bed.

And now we were here, with a mountain of things left unsaid between us. And no place and time to start going through them all.

“Oh, Kip! There you are!”

We both turned to find Imogene entering the office with the grace of a tree nymph, tall and willowy in a sage green jumpsuit and pearl necklace. She passed me as if I weren’t there, easily breaching the invisible barrier I’d constructed between Xavier and me so she could wrap her arms around his shoulders and pull him into a tight embrace.

“We came as soon as we heard,” she told him, rubbing his arms. “Mummy and Papa are downstairs comforting Georgina, but you poor thing. How are you? You always were a brick.”

She pulled back, keeping her hands resting on his forearms. His hands remained at her waist until he caught my expression. Only then did they drop, like he was touching a hot coal.

“We’re all right,” he said stiffly. “Just…waiting.”

Imogene nodded as if she understood completely. Then she glanced at his desk and sighed. “Well, I see you already saw the papers.”

I looked where she was pointing and realized Xavier hadn’t been wrestling with business documents at all, but with piles of newspapers, all bearing photos of him and Adam at the polo match. And another of Adam trying to kiss me. I craned my neck to see it better and was relieved to find that my expression was obviously not interested in said kiss. Small mercies.

But no wonder Xavier had looked so upset when I walked in.

“Absolute nightmare, I imagine. Adam is always getting himself into trouble, of course.”

I frowned. How did Imogene know Adam? Was he that frequent a visitor to these sorts of events?

“Seems that way,” Xavier mumbled, reaching behind him to shove the papers out of sight.

“And the press is brutal,” Imogene rattled on. “Completely unfair.” She looked sharply at me. “We really can’t be too careful, I think.”

I said nothing. Honestly, I didn’t think it was any of her business.

“You know the Mirror never gets their facts straight,” Xavier said, clearly not in the mood.

I waited for him to say more. I waited for him to tell her none of the papers knew what they were talking about, that they had had it out for Sofia and me from the beginning and had wanted to stir up trouble from the start.

But he didn’t, and as Imogene babbled on about this piece of gossip and that, Xavier remained silent, barely noticing me where I stood.

Just as he barely noticed when I left.

Henry Parker’s room was quiet when I entered but for the occasional beeping of the monitors next to the bed. It was an odd mix of modern and traditional, these ugly, life-saving machines in the middle of such old grandeur.

The man in it, however, looked completely different.

He was still thin, of course, though the long limbs beneath the thin blankets spoke to the fact that he had once been a much larger man. One side of his face, however, had fallen completely slack, his eyes were shut, and it was obvious that his chest was only moving because of the tube that had been inserted through his mouth.

I wasn’t sure if there was a person alive in there. But Xavier had said the doctors didn’t think he was brain dead. Yet.

So perhaps a visit didn’t mean nothing.

“Hello,” I said, despite knowing he would not respond at all. “I’m—it’s Frankie. Francesca. Er, Xavier’s friend. Sofia’s mother.” I sighed. “I don’t really know what to call myself, if you want to know the truth. Girlfriend never sounded right—like we’re in high school and just starting out, despite the fact that we already have a four-year-old. But what’s the next step from there, you know? Fiancée? Partner? Wife?” I shook my head. “Whatever. Just Frankie is fine.”

I patted the hand that lay still on the bed. It didn’t move, but I was surprised to find it was still warm.

“Don’t exert yourself,” I joked. “Really, not on my behalf.” Then I sighed again. The jokes were done. “Sorry. I’m just uncomfortable. I’ve never talked to a comatose man before. And definitely not one who is uncle to the man I love, and I’m pretty sure the only person in the world he cares about besides his own kid.”

In response, the machine beside him beeped. Outside, the birds were chirping, and a finch hopped along the windowsill. I hoped he could hear them. I hoped Henry Parker could take every sweet thing shining through the glass with him, wherever he was.

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but things between Xavier and me are kind of weird right now,” I said. “So this might be the last time you see me. Er, well, you know what I mean. I’m sure Sofia will come back. After all, she’s your grand-niece, right? Or something like that. And she’ll want to visit the sheep again. She likes sheep a lot.”

I paused again, stroking the man’s hand, unsure of what else to say. I didn’t even know how I felt either. I was so confused.

“For what it’s worth, I really do love your nephew,” I said softly. “More than maybe I’ve ever loved anyone, except my own daughter. I don’t think he understands that, but it’s true. And I—” I fell forward, rubbing my face. “The thing is, I don’t care if he’s a duke or anything. Honestly, I think I might like him better if he weren’t. The pressure of this place, this world, it just kills him. But I don’t know if he sees that either.”

I swiped sudden tears from the corners of my eyes. Lord, this was getting personal, wasn’t it?

“But I think he’s chasing something,” I continued in a creaky voice. “Your approval, maybe. Or his dad’s, even if he’s dead. I know what that’s like. My dad died when I was little. I barely knew him, but I still think that if you weren’t enough for your parents when they were alive, you’ll never be enough when they’re dead. But Xavier’s enough on his own. He really is. And maybe if he figured that out, all the other stuff would go away. His temper, the secrets, the fighting.” I sighed. “Maybe he’d smile more than frown. Maybe he’d actually let someone love him back.”

I pulled my hand into my lap. God, I wished that were true. If it was, maybe I could stay. Maybe I could help Xavier heal in a way he didn’t even realize he could.

“Anyway, thanks for talking,” I told Henry Parker. “And if you do wake up, please watch out for your nephew. He loves you. Just like I love him.”

I sighed, then touched my lips and pressed my fingers to the back of the man’s hand as a kiss. After, I stood and found Xavier watching me from the doorway with a heartbreaking tenderness in those big blue eyes.

“Er—hello,” I said, tugging nervously on my skirt.

“Hey, Ces,” he greeted me softly as he entered the room.

“How—how long have you been there?” Had he heard my entire confession? If so, what was he thinking?

“Just a few moments. Long enough to hear that you still love me.” He glanced at his uncle. “See, I told you, Hal, you don’t have a chance with this one.”

It wasn’t, I noted, exactly the same admonishment he’d given him before. Not “she’s mine,” but more “don’t even try.”

I wasn’t sure what to think of it.

“I was glad to hear it,” Xavier told me softly. Then, before I could answer, “Do you mind leaving us for a bit? I’ve some things to say to him myself.”

I nodded and stepped aside so he could have his time.

“And, Ces?” He grabbed my hand before I was out of reach.

Electricity jolted through me, warming my face.

“Yes?”

“Don’t go far,” Xavier said. “Please. I’ve some things to say to you, too.”