Chapter 15
The following summer, the antique toy museum held its annual children’s benefit again.
Preston was not there.
His disputes with the museum and Heritage Hospitality were still moving through civil and financial channels.
Some had settled.
Others remained open.
He and Victoria spoke only when necessary regarding extended family matters.
Their relationship had not recovered.
It might never.
Victoria attended the benefit as a guest.
She paid for her own ticket.
That detail would have sounded petty a year earlier.
Now it represented a boundary.
Mason arrived with her.
Elliot immediately pulled him toward the puppet gallery.
Rocco watched from several yards away.
The residential wing remained empty.
The board had decided not to assign it to another Ventresca.
Instead, renovations were underway to convert most of it into visiting-artist apartments and educational workrooms.
The family had finally accepted that living inside a charitable institution while treating it like private property had created exactly the confusion Celeste warned about.
Helen approached Rocco.
“You ready?”
“For?”
She nodded toward the children’s gallery.
A restored exhibit had opened that morning.
Celeste’s childhood toys were displayed alongside objects donated by dozens of other New York families.
No giant portrait.
No family mythology.
Just toys and their stories.
Elliot’s drummer was absent.
Rocco had asked him whether he wanted to loan it.
Elliot said no.
That answer had been enough.
Across the room, Elliot wound the drummer.
The tiny figure began tapping.
Mason laughed.
Victoria stopped beside Rocco.
“He still sleeps with that?”
“Sometimes.”
She smiled faintly.
Then looked toward the former residential wing.
“I thought losing that house would destroy my life.”
Rocco said nothing.
Victoria continued.
“It didn't.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“Do you think Preston ever comes back?”
Rocco understood.
Not to the museum.
To them.
“I don't know.”
A year earlier, he would have answered with certainty because certainty sounded powerful.
Now he meant the uncertainty.
Victoria accepted it.
Elliot suddenly ran toward them.
“Daddy.”
Rocco crouched.
“What?”
“Mason wants to sleep over.”
Victoria and Rocco looked at each other.
Neither answered immediately.
Elliot frowned.
“Can he?”
Rocco looked toward Victoria.
Then Mason.
Then his son.
“One night.”
Elliot grinned.
Victoria exhaled softly.
It was not restoration.
It was not forgiveness.
May you like
It was one sleepover between two children who had never asked to inherit the adults’ resentment.
For now, that was enough.
