Page 102 of Patrick

“What the hell is going on here?” Dad thunders

“Mr. Rossi—” I stop in the face of his livid anger, though it’s directed at my Dad and not me. Which is strange.

“What are you doing here?” Sofia says, sandwiched between me and her mother.

Dad faces the man with a murderous glare and takes a step toward him.

“How dare you enter my home⁠—”

“How dare you harbor my daughter—daughters. You’ve taken both of them from me.”

“Stop this nonsense,” Maria says.

“You’re both wrong,” Mom says, joining Maria.

“Dad,” Sofia says, “I’m sorry I kept my relationship with Patrick from you, but we’re together. And even though you don’t like it, I’m not going to change my mind.”

He stares at his daughter, his face softening miraculously until he looks like he’s going to bawl. He reaches for her and Sofia goes to him. He hugs her.

“Why Sofia? Why do you do this to me? There are so many others. George⁠—”

“I don’t want anyone else.”

He lets her go, nodding sadly. “If you go with him, you will be cut off⁠—”

“I know, Dad, but it’s time I stand on my own and be an adult, make decisions for myself and pay for those decisions.”

“You won’t be⁠—”

Marie puts a hand on his chest. “Say no more Leo. Don’t make proclamations you can’t back up.”

He stares at his wife defiantly, but she stares back as the room remains silent and watching.

“Let’s go.“ Leo guides Maria out the door without looking back at Dad or Sofia, and only glances at Carmela with a wistful almost-smile before leaving.

Dad breaks his stony silence. “Good riddance.”

Mom turns her glare on him. He turns away and addresses me. “You should leave now Patrick. Pack up your things.” He sits down and stares at the table.

His words attack me, each one a bullet to my soul, piercing and shattering pieces of me. The loss overwhelms me with pain for a moment until Fifi takes my hand.

I take her to my old room, meeting Mom’s watery eyes as I walk by her. She mouths it’ll be alright. I nod and escape inside the room, feeling like I’m about to explode with emotional upheaval. Squeezing Fifi’s hand, I hold it together because I know she’s feeling the same.

Kathleen follows us inside closing the door behind us. I should ask her to leave us alone, but I don’t know if that’s the right thing as a protective numbness grips me.

“You know you’re not exiled—not really,” she says, through her tears, making her less convincing.

I start shoving things into an old duffel bag randomly, not knowing what else to do. Fifi sits on a chair watching me.

“I know how it goes, Kay.” My voice nearly breaks and I clear my throat, unable to look at her. I haven’t called her Kay since I was too young to read. She used to sit me on her lap and read to me. I take a sec to swallow back another tide of emotion, hoping I don’t drown or, heaven forbid, shed a tear.

“Connor set the example. It’ll be like that for us,” I say.

“That’s right. “ Kathleen swipes away a tear. “We still see Connor and talk to him all the time.”

I zip my duffel and heft a tote bag full of books over my shoulder. “Sure, but when was the last time he was at Sunday dinner with us?”

“I’m going to miss you so much, Trick.” Kathleen wraps her arms around me and cries against my chest while I hold her.