Page 97 of Convenient Mafia Vows

“It sure does.”

“I want to own a Harley Davidson when I’m older.”

Abigail joins in, “Maybe you could bring it next time, Uncle Caleb, and take Resh out for a ride.”

Caleb’s expression is like a plea for help. Stick him in a boardroom filled with mafia mobsters and he’ll wrap them around his little finger and tie them in knots. But faced with a genius child with a commendable knowledge of Harley Davidson’s back catalogue of models, and he clams up like an oyster.

“I don’t think that will be allowed.” I step into the rescue. “For safety reasons. We would need to get your parents’ permission, Resh.”

“They won’t mind. I’ve been on a motorcycle before.”

Abigail grins at him like he’s the only person in the world who exists for her right now. I recognize that gleam in her eye. It’s thesame gleam I see in my own reflection in the mirror every day since I met Caleb.

She has been attending Sudbury Valley for six months, and she is thriving. We already knew that Abigail was bright beyond her years when we first visited the school, back when Caleb’s expectations were low at best. Now, she can hold a conversation about climate change and democracy and The Jonas Brothers like an adult. Her confidence has grown. She doesn’t worry about voicing an opinion at home or in school, and she and Resh have been creating their own video game.

An adult approaches us—there are no teachers at Sudbury Valley, only adults who supervise and enhance the children’s learning—a young woman with cropped pink hair and a nose piercing. She’s wearing red Doc Martens with a kilt and a red sweater, and when she smiles, I notice that her top teeth are a little crooked.

“Hi, I’m Nina. Abigail has been so excited to show you the video game they’ve been working on. But she has another surprise for you too.” She winks conspiratorially at Abigail.

We follow Nina, Abigail, and Resh into the main building.

When we first considered Sudbury Valley for Abigail, Caleb was skeptical. No learning structure, no teachers, no exams, no classrooms, he said it was a recipe for disaster. But when we spoke to some of the older children attending the school, we realized that they were still learning all that they needed to be mature, confident, and well-rounded adults when they graduated.

Emily had been right. A generic one-system-fits-all education couldn’t possibly work for every child, and Abigail’s needs andstrengths didn’t lie in a classroom where she would’ve been expected to complete tasks beneath her capabilities, five days a week. At Sudbury Valley, if she wants to spend a semester designing computer games, then that’s what she does. She’s still learning, but she’s learning the subjects that interest her, the stuff that she is passionate about, and will take with her through to adulthood.

Now, Caleb’s eyes and mind are open, and when he and Abigail are together, she surprises him with the questions that she asks about the Wraith. They have the kind of father-daughter bond that I wished she had with Mason, but that I’m starting to realize now might never happen. Mason has the same addictive personality as our mother. If he isn’t gambling, he’s drinking or experimenting with drugs, and even though Caleb paid to put him through rehab, he checked himself out after a week and disappeared again.

It was Caleb’s idea for Abigail to stay with us between semesters. I hadn’t believed it possible to love him more than I already did, but when he told me that’s what he wanted, my heart was so full I thought it would burst.

The rooms inside the building are painted in bold, bright colors. The children smile at us and say hello to Abigail and Resh as we pass through. They’re happy. No one is struggling with Math or reading or science. Every child here is confident that they can achieve whatever target they set themselves.

In what must be the closest the school has to a computer room, Abigail and Resh sit down and demonstrate the video game they designed. Their thumbs fly across the controls, and I can barely keep up with the characters on the screen.

Abigail did this, I tell myself when they complete the first level. But none of this would’ve been possible if I hadn’t met Caleb.

“Are you ready for your surprise?” Nina asks.

“We’re ready.” Caleb squeezes my hand and answers for me.

I’m more emotional than ever these days, and he is always on hand with a hug and a tissue, and a hot dog smothered in mustard and ketchup. Sometimes I wonder if he hired a hot dog chef just to satisfy my weird cravings during this pregnancy.

In another room, some children are already sitting in bean bag chairs staring at the wooden stage. Caleb steers me away from the squashy cushions and helps me into a seat at the back of the room, his hand caressing my swollen stomach.

“I don’t want you getting stuck in a beanbag.” His lips brush my ear and send shivers down my spine.

When we first met, I wondered if this passion would be tempered over time, but it shows no signs of abating yet. If anything, being pregnant has made me insatiable. I can’t get enough of Caleb. I’ve even started visiting him in his office at lunchtimes, locking the door, and begging him to lick me until I explode, and Lauren has now added flushed cheeks to the pursed lips and suspicious eyes with which she always greets me.

Maybe one day, Miss Ingram will accept that I’m in Caleb’s life to stay.

Abigail disappears behind the stage with Nina and Resh. When she comes back out, she is wearing a blonde wig, a white dress, and a sunny yellow cardigan thrown over her shoulders. Resh follows her in black pants and a black T-shirt, his hair gelled back away from his forehead.

“Danny!” I squeal in Caleb’s ear.

“Sandy!”

I don’t know how Abigail knew about the first time Caleb and I met, but I watch her and Resh’s performance ofGreasewith tears streaming from my eyes.

On our way back to the city, we detour along the Upper Delaware Scenic Byway. We stop at a heritage café in a small town and drink hot chocolate, not coffee—too much caffeine is bad for the baby—from mismatched porcelain cups, our fingers entwined on top of the table.

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