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“It’s a metaphor.”
“Huh?”
He laughed. “Never mind. I have an idea. There used to be a place by a supermarket that sold fish. How about an aquarium for your room at my townhouse? Do you like fish?”
“Not as much as kitties,” she said.
“We’ll start with fish and see how you do then we’ll work up to something fluffy with claws.”
“Can I get one like Nemo?”
Turning off busy Veteran’s Boulevard into the parking lot housing a specialty aquarium store, Graham decided an aquarium was something he could handle. Not sure how much company fish would be, but he needed things to fill up space in his near-empty apartment. And maybe he could find an actual person one day, too. He’d wanted to move forward in his life, and that meant not spending his nights alone.
Tess’s face popped into his thoughts making him feel both guilty and lustful at the same time—a hard to accomplish feat but Graham obviously had that particular talent.
He should have called. But what would that have changed? Might have made it worse instead of better when he’d discovered who she was… when she’d discovered who he was and for what job he’d interviewed.
Too late to worry about it.
Fate had handed him his cards and he could play only what was in hand.
“I want three fish,” Emily said, unfastening her belt as soon as he shifted the car into Park.
“Let’s get four,” he said.
“Cool,” his daughter said, bouncing on the backseat, reminding him the present was where he dwelled. No time for past mistakes—over Tess, Monique or his failure as a father—to haunt him. He had fish to buy.
FRANKULLOWATCHEDhis wife as she rolled out the pasta, hands moving deftly as they’d done many times before, knowing the right texture, careful not to add too much oil or too much flour. Making perfection as she did each Sunday.
“I love to watch you make the cannoli,” he said, sliding slowly toward her, mindful of the dressing on his side. The stent placement hadn’t been bad, but he was still tired and tender. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he laid his head on her shoulder.
Maggie’s deep sigh seeped into him much like the sadness that had permeated their life over the past two months. It had all started with the jaundice and stomach pain. Frank had thought it was an ulcer, but the medicine his internist prescribed hadn’t touched it. It was then he’d contacted a headhunter. Somehow he’d known the prognosis wasn’t good. He’d known he needed help. Not an easy thing for a man like him.
“You never watched me make cannoli before,” she said, her hands never ceasing as she rolled the edges between her fingers and thumb, but she tilted her head so it rested upon his.
“Meh, I never stopped to see things before. Knowing death has caught hold of you by the neck changes what you see in life.”
“Shush, Frank, don’t say things like that. I hate when you talk about dying. You’re not dying. We’re fighting this.”
He didn’t have the words to protest. Maggie had set her foot down, defying the reaper to touch him. She was a tough opponent. Old Grim didn’t realize what he was up against.
“The kids will be here in half an hour. Frank, Jr. is never late.” Frank looked around the place his wife felt most comfortable in. Maggie had returned the emerald earrings he’d given her for their thirtieth wedding anniversary, taking the money to an appliance center and custom ordering the huge Viking range. He’d laughed because he could never convince his Maggie she was worthy of jewels… not when she’d rather be barefoot and making his grandmother’s red sauce. Maggie may be as Irish as the Blarney Stone, but she cooked like she was a fifth-generation Italian.
“Tess is coming,” Maggie murmured, picking up the sharp knife and cutting the dough.
“It’s Easter,” he said with a shrug. “Family is family.”
“She’s angry and hurt, and rightly so.”
Frank stepped away, picking up the flour and sealing it into the large storage container, helping Maggie where he could. But he had no words to say regarding Tess. His youngest had been difficult from the moment she’d entered the world, screaming and impossible to console. As wonderful as Tess was, nothing was easy with her. From her being allergic to disposable diapers, formula, and gluten to her choosiness over schools, clothes, and hair bows, Tess overwhelmed any space she occupied.
“You have to talk to her, Frank. You have to make her go back to work for the company.”
He shook his head. “No. I’m not doing that, Maggie. Tess molds everyone to her, arranging her life so it fits her needs, her demands. She hasn’t had much set against her, and I think it would be a mistake to fix this for her. She needs to understand my side of this. She needs to see I’m not doing this capriciously or with any intention other than doing what is best for the company.”
“She’s your daughter.” Maggie turned and prodded him with her gaze. They’d had this same conversation over and over in the past week, but Frank wasn’t easily moved. On this he would stand firm.
He knew to some degree he’d failed Tess. His only girl, his last baby, she’d gotten all the petting and doting he’d held back from his boys. Whatever Tess wanted, Frank made sure she got. He’d been so proud when she’d declared she’d follow in his footsteps, even as he worried about her ability to handle a business like Frank Ullo. Tess thought she could handle everything thrown at her. Thing was, life hadn’t thrown much at her. She’d lived a golden existence, and as Frank thought about his company and his daughter, he could see his child had never been tested in any way.
