Mateo stiffens, a muscle jumping in his cheek. He’s slowly warming up to his father being around more often, but he still gets annoyed any time he perceives Mr. Wojcik as pushing for more than Mateo is prepared to give. “Tell him he should take Autumn,” he says. “Ivy and I have plans.”
“Autumn is at the shelter,” Ms. Reyes says. Autumn volunteers at the homeless shelter almost full-time these days, and she’s looking into getting a degree in social work now that it seems likely that she’ll end up with a lengthy probation period instead of jail time. “And I’m sure your father won’t mind if Ivy comes along.”
“Why should Ivy have to suffer, though?” Mateo grumbles, looking so grouchy that I want to fling myself onto his lap and kiss the expression away. Although I generally feel that way no matter how he looks.
“I don’t mind,” I volunteer. It’s true; I like Mr. Wojcik. He’s friendly, if a little try-hard and goofy, and I have zero crushing guilt in his presence.
“Thank you, Ivy,” Ms. Reyes says, giving me a smile before turning back to her son. “It seems important to him, baby, so I think you should go.”
And that does it. Mateo can’t say no to his mother any more than I can.
“All right, fine,” he sighs. We follow Ms. Reyes downstairs, where Mr. Wojcik is waiting by the front door, his ever-present scally cap in hand. He’s handsome in a different way from Mateo, with dark auburn hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and bright green eyes. I expect them to crinkle in welcome when he sees me, like usual, but instead he looks mildly alarmed. Which only gets worse when Mateo announces, “Ivy’s coming.”
“Oh.” Mr. Wojcik twists his cap in his hands. “Oh, I didn’t…well. This changes, um. Huh. I’m sorry, Ivy, I didn’t realize you were here. So, hello.”
“Hi?” I say uncertainly. That was a little hard to follow.
“Maybe we should do this another…” Mr. Wojcik trails off, then gives himself a little shake, like he’s gathering his courage for something. “No, you know what? This is good. Why not, right? Has to happen eventually. This is fine. Glad to have you along, Ivy.”
“Okay?” I say in the same unsure tone. Mateo rolls his eyes while grabbing both of our coats out of the hall closet. He seems to think Mr. Wojcik’s odd stammering is just his dad being annoying, per usual, but it feels different to me.
“Try giving him some notice next time, okay, Darren?” Ms. Reyes murmurs in an aside to her ex-husband as we head out the door.
It’s a crisp, sunny day in late November, the last of the fall leaves still clinging to their branches. Almost two months have passed since Boney died, and things are—sort of normal? Better, mostly, than they were those first few days afterward. Boney was laid to rest, and his funeral was so packed that people had to stand on the sidewalk. I said my last goodbye to him at his graveside, alone, with a final, silent apology. And a promise that I’d never be as petty with anyone else as I was about him the day he died.
I scroll through Instagram once I’ve buckled myself into the back seat, smiling at a picture of Cal and Ishaan Mittal mugging with some Marvel superhero at a comic festival at the Hynes Convention Center. “I love that Cal and Ishaan are, like, best friends now,” I say, holding my phone out to Mateo so he can look. For a while, I thought Ishaan was only being nice to Cal to get him on the show, but it turns out they like a lot of the same stuff.
“They should go see some penguins next,” Mateo says.
Mr. Wojcik babbles about sports the entire way to the restaurant, which turns out to be a really cute little Italian place in downtown Carlton that my parents love. It’s expensive, and I start feeling nervous all over again as he shifts the car into park. “If this is a special occasion, I can maybe—” I start, but as soon as I’m out the door, Mateo grabs my hand and presses his lips to my ear.
“Please don’t leave me,” he breathes.
Well. Okay, then.
“Why are we here?” Mateo asks his father in a normal tone of voice as we approach the entrance. “This isn’t your usual kind of place.”
“True, true. Well…” Mr. Wojcik wore his scally cap while he was driving, but now he takes it off and twists it in his hands again. “I guess you were right back there, Ivy. Today is sort of a special occasion. You see, I’ve—I’ve met someone.”
Oh God. If Mateo hadn’t just begged me to stay, I would be so out of here. I can’t believe I accidentally crashed a new girlfriend meet-and-greet. “That’s great,” I manage while Mateo’s face gets stony.