Page 49 of Secret Baby for the Italian Mafia King

“Why didn’t you go to the zoo?” he asks, as if I’m not the one who spoke.

Harper just blinks at him, like trying to invent an answer that makes sense because she doesn’t really know. “Because I had to stay in Miss Nancy’s class and watch a movie.”

“Because we couldn’t afford it, Ren,” I say, through gritted teeth.

He glances at his watch.

“Get her coat.”

“For what—”

“To go to the zoo,” he says slowly, like he’s explaining something to a toddler.

“What are you—”

“We’re going to the zoo?!” Harper screams. She almost takes me out at the knees, arms thrown around my thighs. “Please, please, please, please—” She hops up and down and nearly takes my skirt down with her.

“Okay, okay—” I surrender, trying not to be undressed in the middle of the foyer. The slightest hint of agreement launches Harper off into the house to get her shoes. I turn an exasperated look to Ren.

“I took her to the one in Central Park when I could, Ren. It’s not like she’s never been to one.”

“Like that counts. What do they have, a drug-addicted raccoon in a cage?”

I fluster, almost,almostlaughing.

If he had been smiling, I wouldn’t have been able to help it, but he isn’t.

“It’s a nice place. It’s not huge, but it’s still something. She liked the penguins. Look, she’s getting so much all at once, Ren. I’m happy for that, and I’m grateful, but I’m still going out of my waynotto spoil her,” I start trying to explain, but Ren is already walking away up the stairs.

“If you didn’t want your daughter to be spoiled, Nadia, you brought her to the wrong house.”

My complaint falls on deaf ears.

I put my hands on my hips and yell up the stairs,

“Well, she doesn’t have a million dollars and a Ferrari either!”

No response.

I sigh and walk off myself, trying to focus on how blindsided I am by the sudden plans, and not the way my heart feels like a twisted-up balloon animal, ready to pop.

It’s like there are two of him. Night and day. Sometimes, Ren is a wild, dangerous creature that skulks around the house just like the animals we’re going to see. He seems calm, always, but deep down, he is always one wrong move away from blindly lashing out. And then there’s the way he is with Harper, the way he used to be with me—domesticated.

Ren accompanies Harper and me to the Bronx Zoo. Harper, naturally, brings her stuffed animal along to remind him where he came from.

“Stay close and hold someone’s hand, Harp.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re not ending up on the six-o-clock news because you decide to run off and start a new life with some zebras.”

“There arezebras?!”

She takes both my and Ren’s hands. I laugh and almost lose an arm as she goes rushing along the wide, shaded paths, dragging us behind her like an excited dog on a leash, wanting to seeeverything.

“Harper, take it easy, there’s going to be a lot of walking. You need to take it slow—”

I might as well be negotiating with the wind.

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