“Joe,” I murmured as we heard the door slam.
Suddenly Joe shouted, “Kate!”
I jumped at his shout but he set me aside and knifed out of bed at the same time he grabbed his jeans from the floor.
“Joe, Keira’s fifteen,” I reminded him as he pulled up his jeans.
Joe ignored me, stalked to the door buttoning his jeans and repeated, “Kate!”
“Joe!” I yelled but he was gone.
That’s when I realized, even with a new baby, Keira wouldn’t stop being one, fifteen years old, thirty or a hundred and five.
And that’s when I fell to my side, curled my knees into my belly and burst out laughing.
I stopped laughing and smelled Joe’s hair on the pillow, his scent all around me and the bright sun shone down on our bed through the many windows. Then I heard Joe’s indistinct deep voice and Kate and Keira’s not indistinct giggles.
I put my hand to my belly and tilted my chin down to look at it.
“Crash,” I whispered to Joe and my unborn child.
Our baby didn’t reply but that was okay. I figured, in our family, she’d one day learn the way to make her opinion known.
* * * * *
Five minutes later Joe came back and he told me the girls were gone with his cash, his ATM card and his PIN number.
Before I could protest this, he also told me that Taylor had been given the Joe Talk and knew if he f**ked around in his Jeep or did anything else to piss Joe off, there would be badass-alpha-male-father-figure retribution (this was not Joe’s description, it was mine).
Before I could protest this, he took off his jeans and rejoined me in bed.
Then I found that being pregnant had the added bonus of me getting the top with my favorite part of Joe underneath me between my legs. Then I found that being pregnant had the further bonus of inspiring Joe to break his record of giving me as many orgasms in as many positions as he could perform.
Which was to say a lot.
A lot later, after I had a nap and the girls had come back. After they boogie boarded while Joe alternately walked into the kitchen to feel me up and walked onto the deck to scowl at Taylor and I putzed around in the kitchen making Christmas cookies that felt weird to make with the sun shining and me wearing shorts (but I didn’t mind). After all of us eating Joe’s delicious grilled halibut while sitting out on the somewhat windy deck. After Kate retired to her and Keira’s room to text Dane and listen to her MP3 player and Keira retired to a moonlit stroll on the beach with her Christmas Vacation new boyfriend, I walked out on the deck in a cardigan and jeans and stared at the dark sea.
Joe walked up behind me and one of his arms closed around my chest, the other one around my belly and I felt his lips touch my neck.
“Baby,” I whispered.
“Yeah,” he said in my ear.
“Are we lucky?” I asked and his arms tightened.
“Nope,” he answered.
“Nope?” I asked, surprised.
“We earned this, Vi.”
“Yeah,” I whispered and settled back into my man.
Like always, Joe was right.
* * * * *
It was morning, the restaurant quiet, Theresa Bianchi the only one there.
She roamed the floor, moving through the hostess station, by the bar then winding her way through the tables, passing the booths, all the while her eyes on the walls.
Even though she scanned the walls just in case a different inspiration struck, she knew before she even got there where it was going to go.
She went to the booth Cal, Vi and the girls sat at that first night they came to the Pizzeria.
Theresa slid in and set down on the table the hammer and nail she was holding as well as the tape measure, level, pencil and frame. Carefully, she lifted the photo of thirteen year old Vinnie Junior and Cal off the wall and then pulled out its nail. She measured, she deduced, she used the level, she used the pencil, she hammered in the nails then she hung the frames.
Vinnie Junior and Cal back over the booth they always sat at when Vinnie was alive, their favorite since forever.
And the booth that Bella always led Cal and Vi to when they were up with the girls – if it was free.
Next to the old picture was the new. Another eight by ten. Another black and white. Katy and Keirry standing front and center by the bar, both wearing tomato sauce stained white aprons, both holding forth a big pizza pie that Benny had taught them to make. To their back right Benny and Vinnie Senior stood. Vinnie’s eyes were on Keira and his mouth was open, saying something that made both girls laugh. Benny was looking to his right where Cal and Vi stood.
Vi had her head to Cal’s shoulder and her arm around his waist but she was laughing into the camera or, more accurately, at Theresa behind the camera. Cal had one arm around her shoulders and the other arm was curled around Angie, holding his baby daughter to his chest. But his eyes were pointed at Benny.
Benny and Cal were smiling at each other, men’s smiles, secret smiles.
Theresa stared at the picture thinking her boys looked handsome.
And everyone looked happy.
She picked up the hammer, level and tape measure and, grinning, she walked away.
Suddenly Joe shouted, “Kate!”
I jumped at his shout but he set me aside and knifed out of bed at the same time he grabbed his jeans from the floor.
“Joe, Keira’s fifteen,” I reminded him as he pulled up his jeans.
Joe ignored me, stalked to the door buttoning his jeans and repeated, “Kate!”
“Joe!” I yelled but he was gone.
That’s when I realized, even with a new baby, Keira wouldn’t stop being one, fifteen years old, thirty or a hundred and five.
And that’s when I fell to my side, curled my knees into my belly and burst out laughing.
I stopped laughing and smelled Joe’s hair on the pillow, his scent all around me and the bright sun shone down on our bed through the many windows. Then I heard Joe’s indistinct deep voice and Kate and Keira’s not indistinct giggles.
I put my hand to my belly and tilted my chin down to look at it.
“Crash,” I whispered to Joe and my unborn child.
Our baby didn’t reply but that was okay. I figured, in our family, she’d one day learn the way to make her opinion known.
* * * * *
Five minutes later Joe came back and he told me the girls were gone with his cash, his ATM card and his PIN number.
Before I could protest this, he also told me that Taylor had been given the Joe Talk and knew if he f**ked around in his Jeep or did anything else to piss Joe off, there would be badass-alpha-male-father-figure retribution (this was not Joe’s description, it was mine).
Before I could protest this, he took off his jeans and rejoined me in bed.
Then I found that being pregnant had the added bonus of me getting the top with my favorite part of Joe underneath me between my legs. Then I found that being pregnant had the further bonus of inspiring Joe to break his record of giving me as many orgasms in as many positions as he could perform.
Which was to say a lot.
A lot later, after I had a nap and the girls had come back. After they boogie boarded while Joe alternately walked into the kitchen to feel me up and walked onto the deck to scowl at Taylor and I putzed around in the kitchen making Christmas cookies that felt weird to make with the sun shining and me wearing shorts (but I didn’t mind). After all of us eating Joe’s delicious grilled halibut while sitting out on the somewhat windy deck. After Kate retired to her and Keira’s room to text Dane and listen to her MP3 player and Keira retired to a moonlit stroll on the beach with her Christmas Vacation new boyfriend, I walked out on the deck in a cardigan and jeans and stared at the dark sea.
Joe walked up behind me and one of his arms closed around my chest, the other one around my belly and I felt his lips touch my neck.
“Baby,” I whispered.
“Yeah,” he said in my ear.
“Are we lucky?” I asked and his arms tightened.
“Nope,” he answered.
“Nope?” I asked, surprised.
“We earned this, Vi.”
“Yeah,” I whispered and settled back into my man.
Like always, Joe was right.
* * * * *
It was morning, the restaurant quiet, Theresa Bianchi the only one there.
She roamed the floor, moving through the hostess station, by the bar then winding her way through the tables, passing the booths, all the while her eyes on the walls.
Even though she scanned the walls just in case a different inspiration struck, she knew before she even got there where it was going to go.
She went to the booth Cal, Vi and the girls sat at that first night they came to the Pizzeria.
Theresa slid in and set down on the table the hammer and nail she was holding as well as the tape measure, level, pencil and frame. Carefully, she lifted the photo of thirteen year old Vinnie Junior and Cal off the wall and then pulled out its nail. She measured, she deduced, she used the level, she used the pencil, she hammered in the nails then she hung the frames.
Vinnie Junior and Cal back over the booth they always sat at when Vinnie was alive, their favorite since forever.
And the booth that Bella always led Cal and Vi to when they were up with the girls – if it was free.
Next to the old picture was the new. Another eight by ten. Another black and white. Katy and Keirry standing front and center by the bar, both wearing tomato sauce stained white aprons, both holding forth a big pizza pie that Benny had taught them to make. To their back right Benny and Vinnie Senior stood. Vinnie’s eyes were on Keira and his mouth was open, saying something that made both girls laugh. Benny was looking to his right where Cal and Vi stood.
Vi had her head to Cal’s shoulder and her arm around his waist but she was laughing into the camera or, more accurately, at Theresa behind the camera. Cal had one arm around her shoulders and the other arm was curled around Angie, holding his baby daughter to his chest. But his eyes were pointed at Benny.
Benny and Cal were smiling at each other, men’s smiles, secret smiles.
Theresa stared at the picture thinking her boys looked handsome.
And everyone looked happy.
She picked up the hammer, level and tape measure and, grinning, she walked away.
