Unforgotten

Chapter 4

"You can't keep doing this to yourself," Natasha said to me at lunch a couple of weeks later. I shook my head and took another bite of my salad, then glanced at her.

    "I'm not doing anything." Natasha looked back at me sarcastically.

    "You've been moping like crazy since Jack disappeared on you."

    "He didn't disappear," I said, putting my water down so hard it spilled. "We had one date, we kissed, and he ended it. The end." Natasha shook her head.

    "Not the end." She said, taking my hand. "Don't give up on him." I looked at her pointedly.

    "Why do you care so much about Jack?" I asked. "Maybe he just wasn't that into me." Natasha closed her mouth and looked at me, then took my hand.

    "Look – maybe he's not all that he seems."

    "What? What the hell does that mean?" I said angrily. Natasha shook her head.

    "Just . . . Just don't give up on him." Natasha said again, and I rolled my eyes. In the back of my head, though I couldn't stop thinking about what she meant.

    "Are you coming home for the weekend?" She asked quietly. I looked at her again.

    "Seriously? It's my birthday, where else am I going to go?" Natasha smiled.

    "That's what your aunt is hoping. Tony's got quite the shindig planned. You know what that means?" She said playfully. I couldn't help but smile.

    "That we need new dresses." We finished lunch, and Jack wasn't brought up again. The rest of the afternoon was spent looking through dresses in downtown New York shops. I couldn't get Jack's eyes out of my mind, and ended up finding a floor-length satin dress that was the exact same color. The stones on the single shoulder strap shimmered, and I found shimmery flats that matched.

    "Interesting choice," Natasha nodded as I stood, looking at myself in the mirror. "It definitely suits you. Matches the color of your eyes almost."

    "It matches someone's," I whispered to myself.

    The workweek was long, and by the time I was seated in the back of one of Uncle Tony's cars on Friday afternoon, clutching the garment bag containing my dress and shoes, wondering what the weekend held in store.

    "Thank you," I said to the driver as he dropped me off at the elevator. I punched the button to the main room, and walked in to see my Aunt Pepper and Uncle Tony at the main bar.

    "My girl," Aunt Pepper said, moving to me and hugging me. I hugged her back, and she took my garment bag and overnight bag and left for my bedroom down the hall. Tony walked toward me, finally kissing me on the cheek.

    "Whiskey, kid?" I nodded gratefully and he poured me a glass of the amber liquid he and I had secretly shared since I was 17. I drank slowly, Tony not taking his eyes off of me.

    "30. Hard to believe you were just an 4 year old punk when we brought you home." He said softly. I looked at him, and he looked down, trying to conceal the tears that had sprung to his eyes. "You know, I would have gladly vaporized that asshat in California if you had let me. And anyone else that would ever hurt you." I smiled.

    "I know. No need." I said, smiling at him. "You always have been my dad, you know, Uncle Tony."

    "Don't be going there, little girl." Tony said, turning away from me. "You may regret it." He held his hand out behind him, and I took it and squeezed. "Huge party. Tomorrow. Cake. Strippers. The works." I laughed, and I heard Aunt Pepper cough behind me.