Chapter Twenty: Fourteen Years

"Hi Dad!"

"Hey, how was Christmas?"

"Not bad. Grandma hurt her back and had to stay in bed though, so I had to do all the cooking."

"All the cooking?" asked Tony, astonished. "All by yourself?"

"Well, Mom tried to help, but she burned the potatoes so I told her it was better if I did it myself. I didn't even know you could burn potatoes… Grandpa couldn't help because of the wheelchair, obviously, Aunt Julie spent Christmas with Uncle Martin's family, Oliver is as useless as Mom is in the kitchen… Uncle Joe chopped some carrots for me, but mainly he was busy with the twins; they were trying to feed cat food to the DVD player. So, I was in charge." Zoe grinned. "It was kinda cool, actually."

"Wait, Oliver can't cook either? Who does the cooking at home?"

Tony was honestly surprised. He had assumed that Oliver could and did cook, because… well, because Oliver was obviously his replacement, and Michelle had always appreciated his cooking so much…

Zoe shrugged. "Me, mostly. It's good, it means I never have to eat anything I don't like. Besides, if I didn't do it we'd all be really fat from eating TV dinners and take-outs all the time. I like to cook, anyway." She smiled again. "One of the first things Grandma asked Oliver was if he liked to cook. She and Grandpa don't like him very much. They always talk about you a lot when he's around, just to annoy him, I think… They only invited him over for Christmas because they didn't invite us until Mom had already asked him to spend the holidays with us. Still, it wasn't too bad."

Tony was quite relieved to hear this; he hadn't wanted to believe that his family would accept Michelle's new man as readily as it had appeared that they had. So, at least he wasn't stealing Tony's parents as well as his wife… ex-wife and his daughter.

He shook his head mentally and tried to keep his thoughts focused on Zoe, not on the pointless feelings of jealousy that somehow seemed to be growing instead of going away as time went by.

"That's good. So, did you get any good presents?"

"Grandma gave me the biggest cookbook you ever saw," Zoe said excitedly. "It has recipes for everything. Lots of desserts!"

Tony smiled. "Sounds fun."

"I started planning the meal I'm gonna make you when you get out of prison."

"Zoe, sweetheart, that's not for another six years."

Although six years was a lot less than twenty, he had to admit…

"I know, but I need time to practice! It's gonna have five courses, at least, and each one of them has to be perfect," Zoe said enthusiastically.

"Thank you, Zoe, that's really sweet. I'll add it to my list of things to look forward to."

She looked at him curiously. "What else is on the list?"

"Well…" Tony smiled at her. "I get to hug you, properly. I get to eat whatever I want. I get to cook. I get to bake you a birthday cake -- or nineteen birthday cakes, one for every birthday I'll have missed."

"Aw, dad…" Zoe sniffed.

"I get to walk on grass, on sand, barefoot. I get to swim. I get to go to a Cubs game -- or a lot of Cubs games. I get to never, ever wear this particular shade of blue again!"

"You'll get to see Mom, too."

Tony suddenly wondered what Michelle looked like now. How many more gray hairs did she have, how many more wrinkles? Had the ever-present pain in her eyes finally gone away now that she had been without him in her life for four years?

He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I will…"