Page 33 of It's Always Sonny

She was all smiles and sweetness as we walked through the banquet hall.

Her smile dropped the moment we reached the hallway. “What is wrong with you? You’re not a baby! You are five years old, and I expect you to act like it,” she hissed. Then she marched me out into the cold. “You humiliated us.”

When we got to the car, she didn’t even put me in herself. She knocked on the window to alert the driver, and then she spun on her heel. I watched her walk back into the swanky building with a pit in my chest as I waited for the driver to open the door so I could climb into my booster seat.

I sat in the car with our driver for the rest of the evening.

I was five.

Just like Felix.

A hiccup of fear has me rushing over to the table while Anthony stands and pulls his son off the table.

“Felix, come on,” Anthony says, running a hand over his face. “You know we don’t climb on tables.”

Amber hops up to help, putting a hand on her husband’s shoulder. But I wave them away with a hand shaking so hard, it rattles my teeth.

“It’s okay,” I say. “I got this, guys. Please don’t worry for a second.”

My tone must be too urgent, because when I look up, Sonny’s sister-in-law is giving me a quizzical look. “Parker, we know it’s not a big deal. He’s only five. We’ll keep reminding him about table manners and have him help clean up the mess, but if we lost it every time he acted his age, well … ”

And then she laughs.

She laughs.

I nod, too choked to speak. Even if I could, I’m incapable of processing what she said.

He’s only five.

The words slam around my head, crashing into my mother’s words.

You are five years old, and I expect you to act like it.

“Here.” Sonny’s voice pulls me from the mental war of words happening in my brain. I give myself a shake and focus on the garbage pail that has appeared in front of me, dropping pieces of the broken plate in the trash. I’m shivering, but it can’t be from emotion. It has to be the cold.

It has to be.

“You didn’t need to do that,” I say too softly for the noisy pavilion. But he hears me anyway.

“I wanted to.”

I look up and my gaze is instantly locked to his. His aqua eyes are so intent, so knowing. Yet, he can’t know what’s going on in my head, not really. I never told him about my parents’ expectations. A few stories here and there, a few remarks of disbelief when he would share nonsense like his dad encouraging him and his siblings to get dirty or his mom jumping on the trampoline with them.

So when I look away, why can I see him from the corner of my eye watching me while I watch them? He can’t know how badly it’s rocking my world to see Anthony and Amber patiently helping Felix clean the table, can he?

“I’ll go grab a broom for the rest,” I say, but Sonny smiles at someone past me. I turn to find his mom standing with a broom and dustpan.

Lisa starts sweeping the rest of the mess, and I reach for the broom.

“I’ll take care of this,” I say to Lisa, not wanting to meet Sonny’s eye. “You guys should enjoy your night.”

Lisa clasps my shaking hand, and the wideness of her eyes is too intuitive. I want to look away, but like her son, her bright eyes have too much power over me. “Sweetie, family helps. That’s what we do.” She looks at Sonny. “Get Felix more mac n cheese, and let’s see if the kitchen has some plasticware for the kids. Parker, I’m sorry to be wasteful, but we can be a rowdy bunch.” She smiles. She’s not mad or embarrassed. She’s smiling. “Do you mind if we kid-proof meals a bit?”

“Of course not,” I say, kicking myself. “I should have thought of it earlier.”

From behind me, Sonny puts his hand on my shoulder. Even through my coat, I can feel the heat from him. “No you shouldn’t have. You don’t have nieces and nephews, you’re not a professional babysitter, and you don’t throw reunions for a living. You had no reason to think about paper plates.”

My mom’s voice hisses over his. What is wrong with you?

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