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My sister smiles at the road ahead. “To keep the you-know-what inside you after he’s finished. I feel so silly, but people swear by it. And yet, it’s not working for me. At this rate, Mom’s going to be pregnant before I am.”
And now I’m thinking about Laz and Mom again. “Gross.”
Rieta turns to me. “What’s gross?”
“Them having a baby.”
“They’re married. It’s only natural. Mia, why do you look so freaked out?”
I quickly rearrange my face and pretend to be bored by the conversation. “I’m not freaked out. I’m just...”
Freaked out.
Angry.
Jealous.
“Don’t you think she’s too old to have a baby?”
Rieta shrugs. “She’s only forty-one, and she told me she’s excited by the idea. Plus, everyone’s keen for Bianchi-Rosetti family ties to be solidified. What better way than with a baby?”
“Yes, what better way,” I agree, and yet my stomach is roiling and twisting like an angry snake in a bag.
Rieta pulls up outside the ice cream shop and smiles brightly. “Here we are. I’m going to have a cone the size of my head to make me feel better about not being pregnant. After being grounded, you must need one twice the size of your head.”
I’m staring blankly at the dashboard, lost in my own world. Mom will get pregnant. Rieta will get pregnant. Everything will be baby talk at home. Laz and Nero will fawn over their wives and newborns, two big, strong men gone all soft. A sick, envious feeling spreads through my belly.
“Mia?”
“What? Oh, I don’t really feel like any ice cream.”
Rieta’s face falls. “But you always liked ice cream after school.”
Normally I do, especially when it’s with the only person in this family who actually cares about me. I take a deep breath and smile through my nausea. “You’re right, I do want some. But can we take it home and eat it by the pool? I’ve been banned from the pool for days.”
My sister relaxes into a smile. “Absolutely. Go choose your flavors, my treat.”
Fifteen minutes later, we have our shoes off and we’re dangling our feet in the cool water as we eat our ice cream. I have a small cup with scoops of watermelon and peach sorbet. Rieta has a waffled cone stuffed with cookies and cream, death by chocolate, and raspberry ripple.
Mom emerges from the house and surveys us with a sharp expression. When she can find nothing to reprimand me with, she turns to Rieta.
“Don’t you think that’s too much ice cream for one person?”
“Dairy is important for women trying to get pregnant. And for women with pushy mothers.” Rieta nudges me conspiratorially and winks.
I duck my head to hide my smile. I couldn’t get away with talking to Mom like that, but she merely makes atsksound at Rieta.
“If I get pregnant before you do, I’ll be having words with your husband. Nero can’t work all the time and expect to magically father a child.”
Rieta takes a dismal lick of her ice cream. “You probably will be pregnant before me. You’re still in the honeymoon period where it’s sex night and morning.”
Mom smiles at her, her lips plump and self-satisfied. “Yes, he’s a handful, my husband. So demanding.”
I nearly gag on my sorbet. My mother never talks this way, and it’s doubly disturbing when I remember how her husband has been trying to screw me.
“Throw the rest of that ice cream in the trash, darling. It won’t encourage your husband in the bedroom if you put on a few pounds.”
Rieta rolls her eyes at Mom’s retreating back and returns to eating her ice cream. “Throw it out? This ice cream is way too good to throw out.”
