Page 13 of Three Pucking Words
Puck’s tail starts wagging when he sees Isabella bring out three plates. She sets one in front of her daughter, one in front of me, and one down on the ground in front of Puck.
And the smell of homemade food eases the tension building in my shoulders that the last year of my life has built up. “A fresh start,” I whisper, staring at the large chunk of lasagna that takes up half the plate. “I definitely could use that.”
*
It isn’t untilalmost nine o’clock that night when I get home. And by home, I mean the guest house on my father’s property. Being back on Long Island reminds me how much I hate the expressway. It takes an ungodly amount of time to leave the island to go anywhere thanks to the traffic on 495, and the subway system isn’t much better because of its congestion of people who I’d never want to be locked in a room with much less a cramped train car.
I’m surprised when I see Sylvia, my stepmother, walking out of the kitchen when I close the door behind me sporting a big smile on her face when she sees Puck beelining for her.
“Hi, sweet boy,” she greets him before looking up at me. “Hi, Honor. How was your day? Did you enjoy yourself?”
Sylvia has been nothing but nice to me my whole life, so I have no real reason to hate the woman. Although, hate is a strong word. Idon’thate her. I don’t even hate Max, and he’s deserving of it.
But Syliva is the kind of maternal person my mother never was, and that pill is hard to swallow. So is the fact that my father left me with my mother and found someone far better suited for his lifestyle; the kind where he didn’t have the responsibility of children around or a woman who wanted them. Not that she ever acted like I was an inconvenience to them when it was his turn to take me for a weekend, but still.
“It was good,” I say, curious as to why she’s here and not in the big house with my father. “Is that all you wanted to know, or…?”
Her smile slips as she stands up, forcing herself to put a much smaller one in her place as she answers. “I brought over a couple of cannolis from the bakery. Your father said they were you favorite. There’s a regular and a cookies and cream flavored one in the fridge.”
It’s surprising my father even remembered I liked them. They used to be my favorite dessert to get when I was here. I’d always try the new flavors that they offered, and the cookies and cream ones are by far the best.
Now I feel like an ass. “I ate a big dinner, so I’m not very hungry right now. But I might have one later.” I pause briefly and force out a, “Thank you for thinking of me.”
She nods, her smile warming a little. “Where did Bodhi take you to eat? I’m sure there are a lot of new options compared to when you were last here.”
It’s been a few years since I stopped by the area, and it was for Isabella and Manuel’s thirtieth wedding anniversary. I spentmost of my time with them, only seeing my father and Sylvia once.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I lie because I doubt she’ll talk to Bodhi about our outing. “We stopped by Mila’s Bistro so I could see Mila and her parents.”
Her eyes brighten. “Oh, how lovely! Your father and I haven’t been there in a long time. How are they doing? I still see reviews raving about the place.”
The only time I ever thought they’d been there was when my father dropped me off at the curb so I could stay with them while he went away for games. That was pre-Sylvia. After they tied the knot, I didn’t get as many sleepovers because there was someone at home to watch me. I used to beg him to go over to Mila’s, but my father insisted that Sylvia and I needed to “bond” and get to know each other.
Back then, I’d still been pretty sour over him sticking me with a flaky mother and then forcing me to get along with the new woman in his life that was meant to replace her. He didn’t try hard enough to be in my life, but he expected me to warm up to Sylvia as if I could trust her explicitly. Needless to say, that didn’t happen.
If Sigmund Freud were still around today, he would happily do a case study on my mommy and daddy issues and right an entirely new theory.
Being caught off guard, I stumble with my thoughts. “Uh, they’re good. Busier than ever.”
Sylvia nods again, and we fall into silence.
Shifting from one foot to the other, I glance down at Puck who’s sitting between us. Clearing my throat, I rub my arm. “I was about to get ready for bed and take all of my medicine. I’m pretty tired. It’s been a long day.”
My stepmother uses the out to escape the uncomfortable atmosphere in the room. “I’ll leave you to it then. Your fatherwas hoping we could all have breakfast tomorrow morning. He’d love to hear how today went for himself. We usually sit down around seven.”
Nose scrunching, I ask, “In the morning?”
Her lips lift up easily. “Not a morning person?”
I shake my head.
The smile remains. “Well, if you’re up then we’d love to have you join us. But I’m sure he’ll understand if you want to sleep in. Adjusting to new places is hard.”
Before I can turn my filter on, I say, “This was my home before it was yours, Sylvia. There’s nothing ‘new’ about it for me.”
Her eyes sadden. Petting Puck once more, she walks toward the door and stops at the threshold. “You’re right, Honor. I just wish you would forgive your father and I for whatever it is that we did to you that makes you dislike us so much. Because we’re glad you’re here. Your dad missed you more than you know.”
Closing my eyes as she walks out and closes the door quietly behind her, I scrub a palm down my face.
