Chapter 19
A year after Vanessa left the estate, Mason asked Daniel a question he had been avoiding.
“Can Raffaele still be family?”
Daniel did not answer immediately.
Mason was nine now.
Old enough to notice adults hesitating.
“You want him to be?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s allowed.”
“He was my stepdad.”
“Yes.”
“Now Mom isn’t married to him.”
“Yes.”
“So he stops?”
Daniel sat beside him on the backyard steps.
“Legally, some relationships change when marriages end.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Daniel smiled slightly.
Children learned precision from adults eventually.
“What do you mean by family?”
Mason became frustrated.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s probably why the answer is hard.”
Mason kicked the grass.
“I miss him.”
“You can miss him.”
“I like visiting Lily.”
“I know.”
“He took me to baseball.”
“Yes.”
“You take me too.”
“I know.”
“If I like him, does that mean I don’t like you enough?”
Daniel’s expression changed.
There it was.
Vanessa’s system again.
Relationship as ranking.
One person’s importance requiring another person’s demotion.
“No.”
“Mom said people choose who comes first.”
“Adults sometimes have priorities.”
“That sounds like yes.”
Daniel thought.
“You loving someone else does not remove anything from me.”
“What if he buys better presents?”
“I will survive.”
“What if his house is bigger?”
“Much bigger.”
“What if—”
“Mason.”
The boy stopped.
“You do not have to make me win.”
Mason’s eyes filled.
Daniel put one hand on the step between them.
Not on him.
Available.
“You are my son. Raffaele was important to you. Both can be true.”
Mason moved closer.
“Can I call him?”
“Ask him.”
Raffaele answered on the second ring.
Mason spoke for eleven minutes about absolutely nothing important.
A baseball game.
A math test.
Lily cheating during a board game.
At the end, silence stretched between them.
Then Mason asked:
“What are you?”
Raffaele almost asked what he meant.
Then understood.
“What do you want me to be?”
“That’s annoying.”
Raffaele smiled.
“I know.”
“Are you still stepdad?”
“Not legally.”
“Family?”
“That’s not something I decide alone.”
“Dad said same kind of thing.”
“Daniel is irritatingly reasonable.”
Mason laughed.
Then:
“Can you be Raffaele?”
“Yes.”
“And still come games sometimes?”
“If your dad agrees and you want me there.”
“Okay.”
No title.
No declaration.
Enough.
Months later Raffaele attended one of Mason’s baseball games.
He sat beside Daniel.
Several Moretti security personnel remained far enough away that children did not notice.
Mason struck out twice.
Then hit a double.
Raffaele stood.
Daniel stood.
Both shouted.
Mason looked toward the bleachers.
For one second, anxiety crossed his face.
Two men cheering.
Who should he look at?
Who came first?
Then Daniel pointed toward Raffaele.
Raffaele pointed toward Daniel.
Mason rolled his eyes.
He looked at neither.
He looked toward his coach.
The game continued.
Afterward, Lily ran onto the grass.
“You missed ball.”
“I hit one.”
“You missed two.”
“You can’t even hit.”
“I’m four.”
“You’re five.”
She gasped.
“I’m five!”
Raffaele watched them argue.
Daniel stood beside him.
“Think they’ll ever settle what they are?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Raffaele looked at him.
Daniel shrugged.
“Maybe the question is ours.”
On the field, Lily chased Mason with a baseball glove too large for her hand.
May you like
Neither child seemed interested in defining anything.
They already knew who the other person was.
