Acrobat (6 page)

The longer I talked, the better Danielle got and the more interested Michael became in the discussion. I explained to them that they were, in my opinion, too young to have sex.

“Physically you’re ready,” I said gently, “but emotionally? Mentally?”

They both stared at me.

“Fine, I’m just a stupid adult.” I shrugged. “So who brought the condom?”

“Dani’s on the pill.”

I nodded and looked back at Danielle. “But what if he’s got the clap or something?”

She caught her breath.

“I don’t have it! I don’t have anything!” He swore to her before turning to growl at me. “Nate! How could you even say that?”

“It was a question,” I said, turning back to Danielle. “But you need to be much more careful than you’re being, love.”

And I suddenly had my arms full of Danielle Tulia.

Michael’s face showed all his irritation.

“So you ditched basketball practice?” I asked.

He nodded.

I leaned Danielle back, my hands on her face. “And where do your folks think you are, sweetheart?”

“Studying with my friend Aurora.” She took a breath. “But I thought you were my father when you knocked on the door.”

It was a security building; someone would have had to let her old man up, or he would have had to wait downstairs until someone came in. The possibility that it could be her father was small; what wasn’t was her guilt.

“Maybe you guys need to rethink this a little, huh?”

Michael was staring at me.

“What if it had been Dreo coming through the door?”

He went white with just the idea of that, and I understood that he hadn’t even thought that far ahead.

I took them both to my apartment and made grilled cheese and tomato soup, and we talked a little more after I called Sean and moved our date back an hour. He chuckled when I explained.

“So you’re a guardian angel now?”

“I guess.”

“You’re a good man, Nate Qells; I can’t wait to be the one you care about.”

He really knew all the right things to say.

When we were done, the three of us went downstairs, and I was on my way to get my car so Michael and I could drive Danielle home when an enormous SUV came to a lurching, squealing-tire stop in the middle of the street.

“Oh shit, it’s my dad,” Danielle had enough time to squeak out before the huge man came barreling around the vehicle he’d just gotten out of and on up the sidewalk.

Maybe Mr. Tulia wouldn’t have hit Michael—he was probably looking for an adult to pummel was my guess—but I wasn’t taking any chances. My tall, skinny friend was much too slight to absorb even a tap from the bear of a man, so I was glad I was there to intercede and take the punishment for him. I didn’t go down—the angle was wrong, and Mr. Tulia was just a little too close to me when he swung, the punch clipping my jaw instead of landing solid.

“Ohmygod, Dad, what are you doing?” Danielle screamed.

“Dani!” I heard a woman scream.

“Mom, Dad hit Nate!”

“Nate!” Michael yelled.

“Who the fuck is Nate?” Mr. Tulia roared.

It was sort of funny if you forgot the part where I had been hit twice in a twenty-four-hour period and was starting to feel a little like a punching bag. My hands went up to fend the man off, and both Michael and Danielle jumped in front of me, which made Mr. Tulia, from the look on his face, feel like a total ass.

“Awww, shit,” he groaned.

Michael sucked in his breath, and I could tell he was scared.

“It’s fine,” I told him as my eyes started to water. “We’re fine.”

“Shit,” Mr. Tulia swore again. “Siddown before you fall.”

It was good advice.

I ended up sitting on the stairs with him beside me on the stoop, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. He had finally calmed enough to address his daughter.

“You were supposed to be with Aurora, but when we went by to get you, you weren’t there.”

“No, I know, I’m so sorry.”

“Aurora said you were studying with Michael, but since I don’t know any Michael and I don’t know his family or who’s at home with him while you’re there, I came over here to see what was what.”

“And you brought Mom?”

“I insisted,” Mrs. Tulia chimed in. “I didn’t want your father to kill anybody.”

Seemed reasonable, I thought, even as I cleared my throat. “They were alone for a bit, Mr. Tulia, I won’t lie, but I get home every day around five, so I was there soon after, and they had soup and sandwiches.”

Mrs. Tulia wanted to know what kind of soup, and I said tomato and then told her about the grilled cheese without being asked.

“That combination is always good.” She smiled.

“I think so,” I agreed.

“I’m sorry I hit ya.”

“Thanks.” I grinned, turning to Mr. Tulia. The way he had almost snapped out the apology told me it was sincere. He was mad at himself; it was there in his voice.

“So you’re Michael’s father?”

“You’re up,” I told my friend the lothario.

Michael explained that I was his friend and that he actually lived with his uncle.

“Who’s your uncle?”

“It’s not a big deal, Mr. Tulia.”

“Michael?” Danielle looked at him oddly. “What?”

“Just—”

“His uncle’s name is Andreo. Andreo Fiore.” Danielle smiled at her father.

The gasp from Mrs. Tulia surprised me, as did the hand she clasped over her mouth.

“What?” Danielle asked.

Mr. Tulia swore under his breath, and I turned to peer at him.

He took a shuddering breath before he turned to me, his jaw set, unable to hide how scared he suddenly was but ready to face the firing squad. “When do you expect Mr. Fiore?”

I shook my head slowly. “We don’t expect him. He’ll be home whenever, I guess, but this is between us, Mr. Tulia. Michael’s a good boy, and I appreciate you letting Dani come by. I promise you that he’ll be a gentleman at your house and that when Dani comes over here in the future that either Dreo or—”

“You can vouch for him, can you? You know Michael well enough?”

I looked up at the long, lanky boy with the lopsided grin and dark brown-black eyes who always carried around just a hint of sadness in the set of his shoulders. “Yes.”

“Nate?”

I returned my eyes to the older man.

“You have kids?”

“A son.”

“Okay, so you get it, that you need to know where they are, who they’re with.”

“Course.”

“Fine.”

But it didn’t sound like it was. “Mr. Tulia?”

He took a breath. “I can’t have my girl over here in Dreo Fiore’s house, Nate.”

“What?”

“I have no problem with Mr. Fiore or Mr. Romelli.”

“I don’t know Mr. Romelli.”

“That’s Dreo’s boss,” Michael told me.

“Oh, okay.” I smiled at Mr. Tulia. “Well, if you’re not comfortable with Danielle—”

“Michael can come by our house, all right, Nate?”

“Oh.” I was both surprised and happy. “Thank you,” I said, because the rest of it was lost on me, but I knew Michael wanted to be allowed to see the girl who made him breathless and twitchy with anticipation.

He nodded. “How do you know Dreo Fiore, Nate?”

“We’re neighbors,” I told him, thinking of something. “Mr. Tulia, Michael and I are going to the opera tomorrow night; would you allow Danielle to go with us?”

“You’re going to the opera?” Mrs. Tulia asked me, finding her voice finally.

“Yes, we are,” I said, standing and putting an arm around Michael’s shoulders. “And Michael and I will be in our suits, so—”

“Yes.” Mrs. Tulia nodded. “Danielle can go.”

My smile was big because I saw it in her face—she trusted me with her kid.

“What is it you do, Nate?”

I explained that I was an English professor at the University of Chicago and what kind of classes I taught, and the longer I talked, the more the Tulias’ eyes started to glaze over, just like everyone’s always did, because I was going on and on about Chaucer and Milton and Jesus God could I please just frickin’ stop?

It was just so ordinary and benign, and Danielle was nodding because she really liked Michael, and the more I spoke and bored the hell out of her folks, the more everything seemed like it had swung back over to normal.

Michael had his hand on the back of my topcoat, and I could feel the weight of it as he held on. And it was doubtful that he was even registering that he was touching me, but I understood because Jared used to do that as well. In Michael’s head, I was the adult, he was the kid, and so, just for a moment, he sought comfort.

Mr. Tulia listened to me, looked at Michael, and watched his daughter.

Mrs. Tulia took my hand, nodded, and apologized for her husband’s temper.

As I looked at them, I had to smile. They were such stereotypical parents, him all glowering and protective and his wife trying to inject the gentleness and warmth after the flaring of anger. I liked them both already even though the man had left another bruise on my face.

“You understand, Nate; this
is
the man’s daughter that we were over here to check on.”

“Yes, ma’am. I never had a girl, so I don’t know exactly what that’s like, but I did raise a boy, so I get the frustration over an adult not being home. I mean, that was the problem, right? Where the hell was I? What the hell kind of chaperone am I?”

“Yes,” Mr. Tulia said like finally I got it.

“Come with us,” Mrs. Tulia said suddenly. “Our son Johnny has a restaurant off Clybourn. You’ll love it.”

But I had a date.

Michael’s hands were like a vise on my bicep. Danielle’s hand slipped into mine. Both of them were screwing with my love life with the pleading puppy dog looks on their faces.

“Sure,” I said with a sigh. “But you guys get to ride with me and listen to my music.”

Michael groaned loudly. “Fine, just no Hall and Oates, okay?”

I cackled, and Mr. Tulia laughed too.

“Let me go get my phone,” I told the small assembly, and I was excused to return to my apartment to retrieve it.

I had missed five calls, and they were all from Sean.

“Nate?”

“Yeah,” I said as I took the elevator back down. “I’m so sorry; I forgot my phone when I left my apartment to take Michael—”

“It’s okay, and I’m sorry to cut you off, but I have to go to work right now.”

“Oh.” I was disappointed, and it was stupid because I would have been canceling on him anyway, but the idea that he was blowing me off was sort of depressing.

“No-no-no, please don’t think that I’m not ready to beg you to reschedule. It’s just that I want to be a pediatric surgeon, and we have this case that—”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain.”

“Nate, listen. There’s this amazing surgeon operating, and he asked for two other doctors to assist, and my chief, he suggested me. It’s a huge deal, and if I don’t take him up on it I just feel like that would be like the worst idea ever, you know?”

“I do know.”

“But I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. I want you to let me take you out tomorrow instead, please.”

“Tomorrow I’m taking a couple of kids to the opera. How about Thursday?”

“Really?” He sounded very happy.

I smiled into the phone. “Yes, really.”

“Just like that? No begging, no game playing?”

“We’re being honest, right?” I asked. “I mean, you really do want us to have dinner, don’t you?”

“More than you can imagine.”

“And I was looking forward to it all day, but it sounds like Thursday would be better for both of us.”

“It would.”

“Okay, so then why would I second-guess you?”

“Jesus, Nate, I don’t know what I’m going to do with all this honesty. It’s so rare.”

I chuckled. “So Thursday for sure, same time? Seven?”

“Absolutely. I’ll be there.”

“See you then. I hope everything goes well for you and even better for your patient.”

There was a pause. “Thank you,” he said oddly.

“You’re welcome.”

I hung up, and when I got downstairs, everyone was waiting on me. I told Michael I was going to sing in the car.

His groan of disgust was loud.

Chapter 4

T
HE
restaurant was amazing. Tucchetti’s was small and warm, and the chicken tetrazzini I had was really good and just a little spicy. I watched the kids lean close and whisper to one another, and listened to the Tulias talk to their son Johnny, who came to the booth to sit down. As the older brother, he gave Michael the requisite crap about taking out his sister. Like how they would never find his body if she missed curfew.

I nodded, and Johnny leaned sideways and gave me a hug.

“See, he knows,” Mr. Tulia, Ray now, pointed at me. “I bet your boy Jared always brings his dates home on time.”

Well, now he had a girlfriend that he lived with, but I took the compliment for what it was. Mrs. Tulia, Carmen, wanted to know more about Michael, and so I explained about the basketball and how he and I went to the homeless shelter on Dearborn one Saturday a month and that he was a lazy student but that we were working on it.

“You take good care of him.” Carmen smiled.

“Dreo takes good care of him; I just try and polish him up a little, make him fit for company.”