That was our thing when I was little. He’d walk into a room, spot me and say, “Hey, little wolf”, and I’d respond by literally howling like one. Then, of course,hewould start howling, too.
Honestly, it’s a miracle that my mother has survived being married to a complete nut like Dad for so long.
I guess it helps that Nero De Luca is one of the handsomest men I’ve ever seen. Literally. Tall, dark hair, the same green eyes that I got, and the tanned Italian skin that Massimo got and I unfortunatelydidn't. He’s also ridiculously in shape, has a bunch of tattoos, and this perpetual swagger that has most people he crosses paths with immediately eating out of the palm of his hand.
Mas asked him last Christmas how he stays in such good shape, even in his late forties. Dad just shrugged and said “Marry a princess.”
The next thing you knew Mom was in his lap kissing him, and Mas and I were groaning “gross” and fleeing the dining room table.
“I mean, we could still do the howl now?” I shrug.
Dad pouts. “Yeah, but wouldn't it be a little forced?”
I grin. “I’m nineteen, dad. Yeah, it’ll be alittleforced to wolf howl at you.”
He chuckles. “Fuck it. Let’s do it anyway.” He winks at me. “How’re you doing, little wolf?”
Fuck it indeed.
I throw my head back and howl to the ceiling. Dad immediately joins in, and the combined noise is so loud that I hear Wren hooting in laughter through the open doors of our shared bathroom.
“Hi Nero!” she calls out.
“Wrenaissance!” Dad hollers cheerfully. “What’s going on!”
“Not much!” she bellows back.
“Hey, just so we’re clear,” Dad says, still loud enough for her to hear. “The offer still stands to have that fuckhead ex of yours killed.”
“Nero!”
I laugh as Mom appears behind him in the frame to admonish him for suggesting such a thing.
“Hey Mom!” I wave at her. She grins and instantly rushes over to pluck the phone from Dad’s hands.
“Hi, love bug!” she beams into the camera at me.
God, she’s beautiful.
It would probably give me a complex if she were anything less than the greatest mom ever. She’s a rockstar, a superhero and my biggest champion, all rolled into one. Still, it’s hard to not feel…inferior…when you’re in Milena Kalishnik’s presence. Even if she’s notdoinganything at all, she’s justexisting.
Staggeringly gorgeous, tall, blonde, and leggy. Alegendaryballerina and choreographer. A professional model now that she’s retired from dancing. If that wasn’t enough, she also works with Jude’s dad Kir as CEO of the arts charity he started a few years ago.
So, yeah: Mom may be an amazing enough human being and mother that I managednotto get an eating or anxiety disorder simply by being her daughter. But it really is hard to not compare my average life to her larger-than-life one.
“How’re classes going?” she smiles. “PS hi Wren!” she screams into the phone.
“Hey!” Wren says as she appears in my doorway to our bathroom. “Just saw the email about expanding the foundation's ballet outreach program into the South Bronx. That’s super cool.”
“Thanks, hon!” Mom beams her million-watt smile into the phone. “I think your mother’s gonna be helping with that.”
The phone is suddenly yanked away from my parents and a tanner version of me, with a dusting of facial hair, fills the screen.
“'Sup, Wren?” My brother Massimo says in what I’m sure hethinksis an ultra-smooth voice.
Mas is a senior in high school who plans to come to Knightsblood next year. He’s also been drooling after Wren and Galina since he hit puberty.
“Hey Mas,” Wren laughs. “How’s high school?”