Page 141 of Clean Slade
Mac nodded. “And Uncle Nino. And Lucky.”
After that day, I told her the truth about who Grams and Nino really were. That they were my family and not her mom’s. I wasn’t crazy enough to tell her about the mob yet. I probably never would be.
“And they’re excited to see you. I hope you’ve got space for all the food Grams’s going to shove down our throats.”
She shrugged, and I heard Slade turn off the shower in the ensuite.
“Come on. Do you want breakfast?”
Mac paused her movie and followed me into the kitchen.
“Do you want to help me make pancakes?”
Mac shrugged, and I got everything I needed. She helped me mix everything, although she didn’t look as into it as she usually was. In fact, she looked to be in deep thought no matter what she was doing.
“What’s up, honey? Something on your mind?”
The way she shook her head so fast told me she was lying.
“You know you can tell me anything, right? Is it about last week when Grams picked you up from school?”
Were the events finally catching up with her? Were scarring and trauma finally setting in?
“No,” she said.
I cocked my head and watched her for a moment before I had to flip a pancake.
“What’s up, sweetie? Tell me what’s wrong?”
Mac looked down at her feet and pursed her lips.
“It’s nothing. Something Grace said yesterday.”
Oh, hell no. Not this again.
“What did Grace say? Did she call you names again? I thought she stopped after you confronted her.”
Mac looked up with hesitation and sighed.
“She said I was an orphan. Am I an orphan, Daddy?”
That’s it. I’m committing murder.
“Uh-oh. Is little Grace at it again?” Slade waltzed into the kitchen, fully clothed—shame—and fresh—yummy.
He walked over to Mac and kissed her head before opening the cabinet and taking out a plate for each of us.
“I guess,” Mac answered.
If it wasn’t the weight thing, it was her fashion choices or the way she spoke. And now this.
When would it be enough? There was only so much teaching we could do at home to ensure that little shit didn’t break my little angel’s spirit.
“What did she say this time?” Slade asked.
“She called me an orphan. Do you know what an orphan is, Slade?”
“I do.” He gave her his hands, and when she took them, he lifted her into his arms. “And you, my sweetheart, are not an orphan. You know what? Even if you were, there would still be nothing wrong with it. From now on, let’s make a deal. Anything Grace or anyone else says as an insult probably isn’t. They might think it is, but it’s most certainly not.”
