Maybe He'll Miss Me (Declin)

[Clarice Santino]

In the morning, he would notice she was gone. Of course, in her bitter anger, Clarice wondered if that would only be because no one was there to make him breakfast. But sooner or later, Marcello would realize that his wife had left him. The only question was whether he would care for any other reason other than the fact that no one was there to clean his house, wash his clothes, and cook his meals.

She had never been bitter about her status in the household before. She'd made her choice and she had always been happy with it. She did those things for her family out of love. She could have hired a housekeeper, a cook, a nanny, but she was good at cooking and cleaning and caring for her children. But she also thought that she was worth more than the work that she did. She thought that her husband valued her opinion. And she had turned a blind eye to the nature of his business, leaving it to him. But she also thought that he was doing what he was doing in order to provide a better life for his family, for his children. What was more important than family? But twice now he had fought with his children about the business... and chose the business over them. It had nearly killed Clarice when Dante left for New York. Now he was back... and Gabriella was gone. Was it her fate to always be separated from one of her children?

Not if she had anything to say about it. If Marcello was going to choose his business over his children, then Clarice was going to choose her children over him.

She slipped out in the middle of the night, carrying a neatly-packed suitcase and leaving a note on the kitchen table. She apparated to Diagon Alley, and from there made her way out into the heart of London and the Avalon Hotel.

Immediately after checking in, Clarice sent an owl to Declin Martin, asking her to meet him in the hotel lobby at 8:00 am sharp.

[Declin Martin]

Declin was lying on the sofa, the only real piece of furniture he had in his apartment, when an owl flew through the open window and landed on his knee. He took the letter and read it over twice.

Marcello hadn't mentioned Clarice, positively or negatively, since the day Gabriella was kicked out. He had, however, lost a lot of sleep, Declin noticed. And a mob boss with sleeping problems was not a safe work environment for Declin.

He arrived at the hotel lobby that morning as directed, 10 minutes early. He sat in a ridged chair and laid his hand in his lap. He was working with Mr. Santino later that day, but not until 3. Pleanty of time for whatever Clairce needed him for.

"Mrs. Santino," Declin stood up when she saw her come down the stairs. He smiled at her. "Good morning."

[Clarice Santino]

Clarice had always hated hotels. Part of the reason she had always been so good at taking care of her family and her home was that she was actually a complete control freak. She hated restaurants, because no one could cook a meal as well as she could. She hated hotels because they were never quite clean enough... never decorated as well as she would have done. She always felt helpless and useless and frustrated in these places, compelled to clean or cook or just do something.

But, she reminded herself, she had a goal in staying here. She wasn't just having a holiday... she was planning something. Her husband was about to learn who was the real head of this family.

"Declin," she said sweetly, greeting the boy with a quick hug. "I'm glad you could make it, Would you care for a cup of coffee in the cafe over there?" She nodded toward what passed for a cafe in the hotel. Really, it was little more than a small cafeteria, with bland floor tiles, ugly off-white walls, and horrible industrial-looking tables with hard metal chairs. It took everything she had to sit there and not start cleaning.

[Declin Martin]

"Sure," Declin smiled at her graciously and then walked with her to the "cafe". He pulled out the aluminum chair for her before sitting across from her at the table. It was actually thanks to Gaby that he had any manners at all. Spending most of his life on his own, he hadn't paid attention to opening doors or pulling out chairs or any other kind of chivalry. Then he met Gaby, and became her friend, and she'd often wait until he opened a door for her.

Once he had sat down and their coffee was delivered, Delcin looked up at the woman across from him. "How can I help you Mrs. Santino?" He asked, thinking that it probably had something to do with his job, as it was his duty to make sure Mr. Santino's family was safe and sound.

[Clarice Santino]

Clarice didn't answer right away. Declin wasn't her son, but there were times when she'd look at the boy and she'd have to physically restrain herself from smoothing down his hair in the back or wiping at his cheeks. She positively ached to take the poor boy shopping for some decent clothes. But she didn't have time for any of that now. It was important to focus on her goal.

"Declin, I know my husband has... reassigned you from being Gabriella's personal guard. But I also know that you know where she is. I want you to take me to her."

[Declin Martin]

Declin sat for a moment. Technically, he wasn't supposed to know where Gaby was. She was "no longer part of the family" and therefore, no longer "worth his time" and he wondered for just a second, if Clarice was testing those exact orders. But then he realized that this was Clarice, and she wouldn't be testing Declin this way. So to respond, he reached in his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope.

"Gaby gave me this to give to you the last time I saw her. I'm sorry I didn't deliver it sooner, but your husband has had me really busy lately." He apologized again, handing her the letter.

[Clarice Santino]

Clarice smiled politely and accepted the envelope from Declin. But instead of reading it, she tucked the unopened envelope into her purse, which she placed on her lap. She didn't want to read letters. She wanted to see her daughter.

"Thank you," she said calmly, her voice unwavering. "But I want you to take me to her now. I promise you, your boss will not find out." She emphasized the words "your boss," as if to make it clear that she was not referring to him as "her husband" any more.

[Declin Martin]

There was always something about Clarice Santino that scared the crap out of Declan more than any mobster ever had. Maybe it was because she could at times remind him of his own mother, who too had the ability to sound calm while simultaneously being furious.

"I uh...okay," Declan said, looking at his watch. The shop should be open now. He stood up. "Then we should go now," he said, feeling almost very double-agenty about it all.

[Clarice Santino]

Clarice knew little about Declin's life outside of his work with Marcello. He always seemed a little bit lost to her, like a young man forced to grow up too soon. He brought out her motherly side, both the protective side and the strict, tough side as well. After all, Clarice saw a mother's job as equal parts protection and discipline. It was important to shape and mold the child into the kind of person she wanted him to be.

Sometimes she thought she'd been too soft on Dante. He was a man of thought, of emotion, of words and poetry.... but not a man of action. He sometimes seemed to enjoy being miserable, to wallow in it as a way of "experiencing life." But at least he'd fought back for the one thing he believed in most... not working for his father. And now Gabriella had done the same thing.

Today, Clarice was all business. She stood up, pulling on a jacket and gloves, then tying a black scarf over her fiery red hair. "Lead the way," she said briskly.

[Declin Martin]

"Okay," He nodded and then pulled on his own overcoat before leading her outside. He checked his watch. Gaby would be at work now, and he hoped she wasn't working alone so that she could take off some time and talk to her mother. "It's not far from here, if you don't mind walking?" He offered, leading her down the way toward Gaby's shop. When they reached their destination, He stood outside the door, holding it open for her.