Disclaimer: I don't own anything, as usual.

xxx

Great-Uncle Peter came over today, but I just call him Uncle Peter because he’s not much older then Daddy. He’s Mommy’s uncle too, and she just calls him…Peter.

Daddy doesn’t like him.

He always glares when Uncle Peter isn’t looking and I can see him squirm when he hugs Mommy and me goodbye. Why doesn’t Daddy like him? He’s so nice and he cares about us. When Daddy was out working, Uncle Peter helped me with my homework. He took me and Mommy to the park, pretty Central Park. Mommy said it would be our little secret, and I didn’t know why…had we done something wrong?

Yes. Daddy found out about it and he broke a mirror with his fist. He said words that I had never even heard before, and later, Mommy told me never to say them. We were alone that night, because Daddy left the house and we didn’t see him for two days. Uncle Peter came over, though, and he took Mommy and me into a big hug. We held each other all night in the corner of the living room.

He cooked for us for those days too, because Mommy didn’t have the strength to get out of bed. Uncle Peter manged to take care of both of us…talking to Mommy as she cried…kissing her forehead, holding her hand, and telling her it would all work out. When he wasn’t doing that, he watched movies with me, and then we would just talk for a little while. He listened to me, like Daddy never did.

“I went to Elle’s for a sleepover last week,” I beamed. “We played Truth or Dare, it was a lot of fun.”

Uncle Peter smiled, but arched an eyebrow. “Truth or Dare? Aren’t you a little young for that game, Anna?”

I crossed my arms. “I’m in the first grade! That’s old!”

He snorted and ruffled by jet black hair playfully. Mommy always told me what goregous hair I had, but Daddy always wondered where it came from. Mommy and Daddy both had golden blonde hair. My eyes were grey and green, though. It was one of the few things Daddy could be honestly nice about.

“You have your Mother’s eyes.”

*

I made Uncle Peter pinky swear not to tell. He’s the only one that knows about what I can do. I thought he would be mad when I looked at the sky and a thunderstorm appeared, but instead he was so proud of me. He picked me up and spun me around, and showed me that he could do the same thing. Was I not special anymroe? Could anyone do this? But he could identify with me more than anyone else.

“You are very special, Anna, don’t forget it,” Uncle Peter assured me, kneeling down to look at me eye to eye. “I’m just a different kind of special. Like…watch this.”

He let go of me, and held up his palms. They were there one second, and the next, they were invisible. I giggled, reaching out and feeling his invisible hands.

“Your mom is special too,” he confessed. My eyes went big.

“How? Can she make storms?”

“No,” Uncle Peter shook his head. “That’s something you need to talk to her and only her about, okay?”

I nodded. “Is Daddy special too?”

Uncle Peter didn’t answer my question.

“Come here,” he beckoned, opening up his arms so he could pick me up and hold me. “Hold on tight,” he said, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, not knowing what to expect. Then, before I knew it, we were flying like characters from my favorite Disney movies. New York was so beautiful from this height. How could this be? How could Uncle Peter fly us around without wings, a joyous expression on his face at my laughter?

My uncle was an angel.

*

I heard Mommy and Daddy fighting on my eighth birthday. The party started in an hour, and I was really excited. I got out of the shower and stood at the closed bathroom door. My friends had told me how to listen in on people talking. I pressed my ear to the door crack.

“What is your problem!?” cried Mommy, a muffled yell from my hearing point.

“It’s him, dammit! Your lovely Peter!” Daddy was roaring and I heard something break.

“What is wrong with him? He’s family; he takes care of us more than you ever do!”

“I provide for this family okay! And everyday I have to come home to a retarded child and a wife whose cheating on me with her own goddamn uncle!”

Mommy was sniffling angrily. “She is not stupid; you’ve just never taken the time to get to know her! And I am not cheating on you! How can you accuse me of something like that?”

“Because Anna isn’t my kid, is she? Is she?” growled Daddy dangerously.

Silence. I listened harder, trying to figure out if they were whispering.

“Answer me, Claire! She’s his, isn’t she? That’s why she looks just like him, and he’s always just…hanging around and trying to “bond” with her. Even if you haven’t been cheating on me with him since we’ve gotton married, I know you’ve wanted to. I see the way you look at him, all longing and loving and it makes me sick.”

Still no answer. I could hear Mommy’s sobs and Daddy’s frustation seeping through the door. What did Daddy mean by I was “his?” Uncle Peter’s? His niece…or…

“I can’t believe this,” muttered Daddy. “You’re one twisted bitch, you know that? You were eighteen when you got knocked up; what was he, twenty-eight? And he’s your uncle! You’re lucky Anna didn’t turn out even worse.”

“Tom, stop it!” shouted Mommy all of a sudden. Her voice raised a decibel with every cry. “Stop it, there is NOTHING wrong with my daughter! She’s beautiful, and she’s perfect, and you don’t understand what has happened with me and Peter! You will never understand because you don’t want to!”

“You’re right,” whispered Daddy, the danger in his voice still there. “I don’t want to even try, because I’ve wasted the last eight years of my life on some incesteous whore and her messed up little kid. I hate Anna. I’ve always hated her because I knew she wasn’t mine. I knew it when the doctors said she had that birth defect, that she’d be slower than other kids. No child of mine would ever have that.”

My heart went tight. Daddy hates me?

“I don’t even know why I stuck around so long. Maybe I felt sorry for you, I dunno. You’ve always been right on the edge since you got pregnant-,”

“No,” growled Mommy. “I wasn’t supposed to get pregnant, but I wouldn’t change a thing about Anna. I love her with all my heart. I’ve been hurting ever since I had to start pretending that you were her father. You were my boyfriend at the time, what else was I supposed to say? I was stuck with you, and I didn’t even love you then. I barely knew you. I thought I could make myself grow to love you, but…I couldn’t. Peter and Anna are the only reasons I can wake up every morning and not just fall down.”

“Then why don’t I take a weight off your shoulders,” mumbled Daddy simply. I could hear his grimace, as well as feel tears that I didn’t realize were on my face. There was a russling through the halls and I heard Daddy’s footsteps go into the bedroom and come back to the living room.

“You’re already packed?” choked Mommy.

“I’ve been packed for almost a decade, Claire.”

There was a door slam and a sob.

After a couple seconds, I wrapped my wet hair in a towel, got dressed, and crept outside. Mommy was on the floor, shaking uncontrallably and crying. The sight made me feel like crying myself.

I knelt down next to her and touched her face. She looked up with those pretty wet eyes and she threw her arms around me, cradling my cheek and arm.

“Oh, Anna,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” I asked. “Daddy should be saying sorry. He yelled at you.”

Mommy sniffed. “How much did you hear?”

“All of it. It was really loud.”

“I’m so, so sorry,” Mommy repeated, holding me tighter. I stared up at her tearful face.

“Is Uncle Peter my daddy now?” I questioned. Mommy paused.

“He’s always been your daddy, sweetie.”

“Do you love him?”

Mommy smiled for the first time. “Yes, so much. More than I should.”

I frowned. “You can never love enough, Mommy. Uncle Peter told me that.”

Mommy let out a funny noise, halfway between a cry and a giggle.

“That’s something he would say.”

“Why don’t you go to him? Why can’t he live with us and be my daddy?”

Biting her lip, Mommy pulled back. “It’s complicated. We…we can’t do that. It’s not allowed.”

“They don’t allow love?” I asked, stunned.

“Not our kind of love, dear. I’m not supposed to love Uncle Peter the way I do. I’m not supposed to…be in love with him. You get it?”

“That’s dumb,” I shook my head. “If you love him, you should be with him.”

Mommy’s exasperation turned into thoughtfulness. She might have said something, I don’t know what, when we heard a loud shout from the hallway.

“You son of a bitch!” hollared Daddy. Or Tom, I guess. He was never my real daddy. He wasn’t even my father. He was my mommy’s husband, and that’s as close as it got.

Mommy ripped the door open and screamed. Tom was hovering over Uncle Peter. My real daddy had blood on his face and the bag of presents he had brought for my birthday had been tossed to the other side of the hall.

Mommy tried to run to them, but I held her back.

“Uncle Peter’s special!” I cried. “Don’t worry!”

Mommy whipped her head around and stared. “How do you know about that?”

“He told me, because I’m special, and he said that you’re special too!”

Uncle Peter was on his feet now, trying to block some of the punches that Tom was throwing his way. He did not try to attack Tom at all. Tom was cursing and yelling as usual, approaching Uncle Peter so quickly that they both were coming closer to Mommy and me. Mommy wrapped her arms around my head.

Uncle Peter was the only thing standing between us and Tom. When he tried to throw a punch near Mommy’s head, Uncle Peter held up a hand and Tom’s fist stopped in mid-air.

“Get outta here,” growled Uncle Peter in a voice I’d never heard before. He was normally so sweet and nice, but now he was determined to protect us. His family.

All of a sudden, Tom’s whole body when flying back as Uncle Peter moved the man with his mind. Tom stood up astounded, and hysterical.

“You’re freaks! All of you! Stay away from me!” he howled, as he opened the staircase door and stumbled down. Uncle Peter slowly walked over to the presents tossed about. He put them all back into the one bag, walking back to our doorway. He set down the bag at my feet, smiling sadly at me.

“Happy Birthday, Anna.”

He looked back at Mommy, who was messy and still wore her tears. The look in his eyes had changed. It had always held love, lots and lots of love, but now he was sad. Mommy and Uncle Peter didn’t take their eyes off each other as they stood very still, arms tight at their sides. Mommy’s arm tried to touch him, but she stopped.

I grabbed each of their hands, and neither one took notice. They didn’t look down until I placed Mommy’s hand in Uncle Peter’s. His fingers tightened around hers.

My parents looked down at me, confused, and all I could do was give a little shrug. This was the way things were supposed to be. We were a little, special family. It was unfair to keep two people who loved each other so much apart. Whoever could do something like that had no heart. It was like something out of Aladdin or another fairy tale movie.

Mommy looked back up at my daddy and suddenly threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. She was crying again, happy tears I think, and he was too. Uncle Peter’s hands were wrapped around her back and after a few seconds, they pulled away.

“Claire,” Uncle Peter whispered. “I love you so much.”

Mommy returned this, and he kneeled down beside me and hugged me too.

“God, I love you too, Anna,” he sighed. He pulled back and looked at my eyes. “But love’s not enough. We can’t…we can’t be like this. I’ll always be your father…but  I can’t be your mommy’s husband. I can’t even be her boyfriend. Do you…do you understand?”

I sniffed. “Can we keep it a secret? Like that we’re special?”

Uncle Peter sighed. “Yeah. But you won’t like this when you’re older. We can’t tell your grandparents, your other uncles, or cousins, or your great-grandma that I’m your daddy either, okay? None of the Petrellis can know.”

I didn’t know why this was such a big deal, but I nodded anyway. He was my uncle, too, and I did admit that this was a little weird. But so was being able to move things with your mind or control the weather. My Mommy and Uncle Peter were both so kind…they deserved to be happy, no matter how strange the way.

“Pinkie swear?” he asked.

Uncle Peter smiled and stuck out his smallest finger. I hooked my own pinkie with his.

“Pinkie swear,” I agreed.

*

Once Mommy had wiped the blood off Uncle Peter’s face with a wet rag, my first birthday guest arrived. My new friend Savannah was the first one through the door, hugging me. Uncle Peter took her over to where her presents were and she came back looking dreamy.

“Your dad is so nice,” she giggled in my ear. Somehow, Uncle Peter heard from across the room and looked at us, blushing and arching an eyebrow.

“He’s the best daddy in the world,” I grinned, crossing my arms over my chest snootily. I’d never been able to say that before, because I’d never believed it before. Tom had never given me reason to say that one line that every little girl should display proudly.

The strangest thing in my life had just made me normal.