Part 6 (1/2)
He circled the counter before crouching beside her to peek through the oven's window. Inside, a perfectly browned pizza occupied each of the two racks, their surfaces bubbling with cheese, green peppers, and mushrooms. He looked sideways at her, noting the satisfaction in her expression as she inspected her creations. ”Did your mother tell you what to put on these?”
”No. Why? You don't like mushrooms, do you? I knew it.” She stared at the pizza in dismay. ”Well, I left half of one pizza plain, just in case. The mushrooms never even touched it, so you're safe if you still want it.”
”No way.” He took a risk in using her phrase, then gave her a gentle elbow to the side. ”My favorite pizza is mushroom with green peppers.”
She glanced at him and rolled her eyes. ”You're only saying that to get me to like you.”
”Like me or not, it's true. Maybe it's hereditary.” Still crouched in front of the oven, he frowned over his shoulder at Megan. ”Though apparently your mother and I like the same kind of omelets for breakfast.”
”What can I say?” Megan spread her hands. ”Anna and I have good taste. I told her to pick whatever she wanted from the fridge to put on the pizza.”
”I like sausage, too,” Stefano confided, giving Anna a sideways just-between-us look. ”Do you have a sausage pizza hiding in there?”
When she shook her head and told him she couldn't stand sausage, he said, ”I doubt the three of us could eat a third pizza, anyway.”
”You haven't tried my pizza, so you never know.”
”Think I'm about to find out.”
”Timer says six seconds left, so...here goes!” She straightened, then pulled a pair of oven mitts from a nearby drawer and asked Megan to help her take out the pizza. Stefano sidled out of the narrow kitchen, watching as the pair removed the pizzas and made quick work of slicing them. When he noticed a festive-looking stack of napkins and plates at the counter's edge, he took them and went about setting the table.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd set a table, let alone with confetti-specked paper plates. It felt odd, but good.
”Oh, Stefano, I was going to use real plates,” Megan said, glancing over at him from the kitchen. ”Those were left over from one of Anna's cla.s.s events. I can't imagine you'd-”
”I seem to recall the two of us eating off old, peeling plastic plates while sitting on a dirt floor in a family's shanty. I think I can handle paper.”
That drew a cautious smile from her. ”If it's fine with you, it's fine with me.”
A few minutes later, as they ate the pizza, which was every bit as delicious as it smelled, along with a salad Megan prepared, Anna asked him what it was like to live in a palace.
He glanced at Megan before giving his answer. ”Well, it's certainly beautiful. There are chandeliers in nearly every room, and Persian rugs so thick you can curl your toes in them. Since it was built in the days before electric heat, the fireplaces are so tall and wide you can walk into them.” He tried to imagine what Anna would notice, were she to walk the palace's wide halls or sleep in its rooms. ”The palace has gorgeous gardens on three sides. I played there all the time when I was a child. Then there's a parade ground in the front where tourists come to see equestrian demonstrations in the summer. There's also a giant clock tower beside the front gate that tolls every hour. When I was growing up, I would lie in bed at night and count the strikes, then listen for the last reverberation to fade away. I liked timing it, because the sound could change depending on the weather.”
Her mouth dropped into an O. He could virtually see the wheels spinning in her mind, imagining life in a palace as if it were a fairy tale come true. ”That sounds fantastic!”
”In many ways, it is. But have you ever heard the phrase, 'living in a fishbowl'?”
She hesitated. ”Like, living underwater?”
”Not quite.” He explained the meaning, then said, ”Sometimes, it's like that for me. When I'm in the palace, I have very little privacy. I don't always control where I go, who I see, or even my own phone calls and e-mail. Everyone knows what I'm doing at all times.”
”That must suck. Big time.”
”Anna-” Megan's warning came despite the fact she'd just taken a bite of pizza.
”Not always. For instance, I don't have to clean anything or make my own bed. I don't even have to shop, because people who work at the palace bring me whatever I need. But can I tell you a secret?” At her nod, he said, ”I don't mind making my own bed. And there are days I wish I could walk out my front door on a whim and shop the way you do. Not because I like to shop, but because it'd be fun to wander through a pedestrian shopping area and see the sights or stop for an ice cream without worrying about being watched or having my picture taken. I occasionally do it when I'm traveling, but it's rare while I'm at home. I'm usually recognized too quickly to have much time to myself. Living in the palace especially makes me appreciate times like this, when I can visit friends and eat whatever I want and be myself.”
”Well, we're not your friends. We're your family.” She paused, scrunching her nose. ”Kind of. I mean, we're not really your family. But we are related, so I guess, well...you know what I mean.”
”I do know what you mean.” He kept his gaze fixed on Anna, but he could sense Megan's stillness as powerfully as a punch to the gut. He kept a smile in his voice as he whispered to Anna, ”It's a little awkward meeting a parent for the first time when you're almost done with fourth grade, isn't it?”
”Totally awkward!” She picked a mushroom off the top of her pizza, popped it into her mouth, then shrugged. ”But it's not a big deal, right? I mean, that you're my father. Not if no one knows.”
He couldn't lie to her. ”It won't be an easy secret to keep. I imagine someone will find out eventually, even if none of us say a word. Maybe not soon, but someday. Whether anyone knows or not, though, I do think it's a big deal to be your father. That's why I asked your mom if I could come to lunch today. I want to get to know you and I want you to get to know me.”
She radiated skepticism as only a pre-teen could. ”You want to get to know me?”
”I do.”
”Huh.” She took another bite of her pizza, contemplating that, then washed it down with a long sip of lemonade. Her plastic cup clunked against the tabletop as she set it down. ”But I bet you never wanted kids. Like, if you didn't know I existed and a friend asked you if you wanted kids, you'd probably say no way. Right?”
Megan's voice was simultaneously chastising and understanding as she said, ”Anna, honey, that's not really a fair question.”
”I'd have said yes,” Stefano replied. He suspected that Anna didn't really want to know his thoughts on becoming a parent, but whether he considered her a mistake. ”Truth is, I've always wanted kids.”
”But you don't have any. Other than me, I mean, and I don't count.” There was no accusation in her tone. Her manner remained straightforward as she shook Parmesan cheese onto a fresh slice of pizza. ”You aren't even married.”
”No, I'm not married. But you do count. At least as far as I'm concerned.”
That earned him a merry laugh. ”If you want kids so much, how come you're not married? Most people who have kids get married.”
This time Megan let the question go, though Stefano could feel Megan's uneasiness with both her daughter's blunt tone and the direction of the conversation. It didn't bother him as much as it might. Instead, he found himself drawn to Anna's straightforward nature.
”I'm not married because I haven't met the right person.”
”In other words, my mom wasn't the right person.”
Chapter Ten.
She may have been.
He studied Anna for a moment, trying to determine whether her statement was one of hope, of accusation, or of simple fact. It was impossible to know, yet he suspected his response could make or break the girl's first impression of him. He knew it shouldn't matter-kids' opinions changed with the wind, and now that he knew of her existence, he planned to build a long-term relations.h.i.+p with her-yet he found he truly, deeply cared what Anna thought of him today.
”Your mom and I never had the chance to find out,” he finally said. ”Sometimes that happens in life. When it does, you do the best you can if you're fortunate enough to get a second chance. Your mom and I can't change the fact that I didn't know about you” -he shot a glance at Megan- ”which wasn't anyone's fault. It just happened. But now that I do know, I'm here. That all right with you?”
She looked him up and down, as if she could read his mind by scrutinizing him, then gave a firm nod. A moment later, she said, ”You know my mom made me see you today, right?”
Megan pinned her daughter with a glare. ”Anna, you know that's not true.”
Anna groaned. ”Well she would've made me, but I said it was fine when she asked so she wouldn't have to make me. I wasn't sure if I'd like you or not, and I was afraid if I didn't then my mom would get all upset and everything would suck. Um, stink. But so far, this has been more fun than I thought it'd be. You're okay, Stefano.”
Stefano bit back a teasing response, suspecting Anna might not appreciate it. ”Glad to hear it.”
”Me, too,” Megan replied, turning to Anna to add, ”though I wish you'd use more appropriate language, honey. We've talked about using 'sucks' more than once.” She stood to clear the table, causing Anna to grab the final piece of pizza from the center of the table before her mother removed the tray. Stefano pushed back to help, but Megan waved for him to remain seated. ”It's only a couple of plates and the salad. You and Anna keep talking.”
He paused, ensuring she truly had it handled, then relaxed in the chair once more.