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“I know, we say that. But after it all goes down, how will we feel about each other? If it gets nasty in the competition or interviews, can we write it off as business and move on with the personal?”
My mother wipes her hands on her apron again and sits. She’s making saltimbocca for me for dinner. It’s Law’s favorite. She’s missing him, so do I.
I can’t shake a radical thought I’ve been having. It goes against everything I’m saying and I think I am, but it might work. The more I think of the job, I wonder if my obsession was about the job or beating her. There’s a lot more meetings with the new job and I hate meetings, unless I’m eating out the perfect pussy.
I’m grabbing drinks with Dax and Tony later. I need to talk through this insane idea I have. One that will shape my future and hers. Dax won’t like it, but he’ll help. Tony will love it because he still has no grip on reality. He’s been through two wives searching for adventure. Each leaving with a tidy sum and no remorse. He loves excitement and to be challenged. I just got an invite for wedding number three. When I told him to stop marrying bimbos, he scoffed and yelled, “To adventure!”
My idea will put a strain on Sophie and Dax’s relationship, so I need to check in with him before I go through with it.
I sip and wince at the wine again. I say in a loud sigh, “Oh, Mama.”
She turns her head to the side and purses her lips. I laugh. “You only call me ‘Mama' when you’re in trouble. Are you in trouble?”
I stand up and walk around to get the blood flowing. The pitch is done. The boards are set, but I still can’t help but feel something’s not complete. It’s not right. “I’m going to be in trouble for a long time, but I think I know what I have to do.”
“Will you be the boy I raised when you do this?”
“I will.”
“And you love her, do you not? I see it. It’s like when Robbie would talk about Claire long ago. Your eyes do a swoony thing.”
For a second my mind goes to her. I snap back to my ma and understand what she means.
She says, “Swoony. Now, I need grandbabies. Is she ready for that?”
“MA! We’re barely in a relationship. We’re hanging on by a thin thread and a promise.”
She continues, “What’s wrong with Robbie’s penis?”
I choke on the sugar wine. She turns back to her sauce and I quickly FaceTime my brother.
“Ma, say that again.”
She leans back from the counter. “What is wrong with Robbie’s penis? Or is it Claire’s—”
She’s interrupted by Robbie screaming, “MA! Knock it off. Jesus.”
She smacks me with a tea towel, then takes the phone and looks at his face. “Where are the babies?”
“Stop asking. I might be retiring, but we have to figure some things out.” Ma tosses me the phone and starts to dance around the kitchen in a sort of jig, flinging her tea towel in a circle. She’s giggling and singing in Italian. I get every other word, but it’s not clear.
“What the hell are you doing, Ma?”
Robbie says, resigned, “She knows. But how?”
“Knows what?” I’m so confused.
My mama scoops up the phone and twirls it around. “You all have a tell. I taught you all to look for them. That’s why you all clean up in the poker. But your brother just lied to me. His Claire is taking care of the new baby in her belly right now.”
I yank the phone back. “True?”
“True. We’re shy of three months, so don’t fucking tell a soul. And do not tell Claire you know. MA! I have a tell? Does she know it?”
Ma yells, “Yes. I gave it to her as a wedding present.”
I say, “What is it? And what’s mine?”
She leans to the phone. “I will never say a word. I take it to my grave. And only your wives can know. You let that little firecracker know there’s a prize if she sticks around.”
