Vanessa snorted, reaching for her wine. “I’ve got a fifty percent chance of being right.”
“They're both nice names,” I said, trying to keep the peace. Truthfully, I hadn’t thought of names. But a namewasimportant. Maybe I needed to give it some thought, even though it was still early days.
“Victor was a big baby,” Bianci said. “They used scissors to cut me.”
“Mom,” Vanessa wailed. “We’re at the dinner table!”
“So? We’re all women here, nothing is off topic. We are the stronger sex, remember? We aren’t squeamish.”
I chewed on my food, wondering if Bianci would ever give me the recipe for her secret sauce. Even Vanessa didn’t know it.
“Has Victor mentioned any names?” Bianci asked as Vanessa shot her a look. “What?”
“They’re not exactly best friends, Mama.”
“No, but they’re going to be parents. Things like this will need to be discussed.”
“Nah, Lila gets to choose. Fuck him.”
“Language! That’s your brother you’re talking about. He may not be here, but you need to show respect.” Bianci’s eyes flashed, and mine widened.
Bianci seemed more protective over Victor than usual, and it made feel uncomfortable. He should be here instead of me. This was his family first.
“I won’t show respect to the schmuck who cheated on my best friend.”
Bianci pointed her fork at Vanessa. “He is still your brother. You’ve given him enough to think about without continuing your tirade of hatred. You can’t change the past now. He’s going to be a father.”
“As long as he doesn’t get to choose the name,” Vanessa said with a huff. “Dick.”
“Vanessa…” Bianci warned, and I subtly shook my head at Vanessa, pleading with her.
Don’t antagonise her.
“He’s working nights,” Vanessa mentioned in an attempt to be civil toward her brother. “So, he’s bringing in money at least.”
“Nights?” Bianci frowned, her fork hovering above her plate. “In addition to his day job?”
I stared at my plate and pushed the pasta around. I felt guilty, like he was doing it for me.
Which I guessed he was.
“Yeah, that’s what Lila said.”
Both sets of eyes focused on me.
“Yes. He’s working in security.”
“How does he have the time for a night job and a day job?” Bianci demanded. “Does he even sleep?”
I hadn’t thought about that. He didn’t work at the building site on the weekend anymore, so maybe he could sleep in the day then.
“Maybe he only works weekends at the night job,” Vanessa said, shovelling pasta into her mouth and washing it down with red wine.
“Maybe,” I murmured. “I think he’s coming down with something.”
Vanessa blinked. “Why do you care?”
Bianci shot her a look of exasperation. “Because she was married to him for many years. You don’t just switch off caring for someone.”
