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I groan. “I can’t help it! You know how it is with our fathers.”
I know that Marta went through the same thing with her mother and father.
“But it’s different for you,” Marta points out. “Your father changed.”
“You’re right,” I say, sighing.
“Dante could change, too,” Marta suggests, and I nod, thinking about it.
Maybe Dantehaschanged. Maybe I’m worried for no reason, just like I was about Vincenzo. Am I creating problems for myself when they really aren’t there?
“He hasn’t shown any signs of cheating so far, has he?”
I shake my head. “I was worried when we first got married.” I grimace. “Like when Felicia showed up to our house. But nothing like that has happened since.”
Marta shrugs. “Then maybe it’s not a problem. You might be making a fuss over nothing.”
“Probably,” I mutter. “I’m good at that.”
She laughs. “We’re all guilty of it from time to time.” She pats my shoulder. “Oh, how are your ribs doing?”
“I’m not even wearing the wrap anymore,” I say proudly. “It doesn’t hurt hardly at all.”
“That’s wonderful.” Marta pauses and gives me a sly grin. “So, does that mean your...bedroom activities are back in full swing?”
I frown. “Not exactly. Dante’s been working so much.”
Marta sighs. “That’s the life, I guess.”
“It is,” I agree. It’s a theme in my life, all the men I love working constantly. I know that they do it to keep us in nice things, to keep us protected, but it can still be lonely, being a woman in the famiglia.
But things have been going well as they can be, especially given the added stress of what happened to me and the baby. Dante’s been handling it better than I expected, actually, and he doesn’t seem to be seeking anything outside our marriage.
I’m lucky, really. There are women who have to grit their teeth and bear it when their husbands go out to see their mistresses. Dante is faithful and he’s been attentive ever since he found out about the baby.
“You’re a lucky girl,” Marta says, as if reading my mind, and I give her a big smile.
“I am,” I say, humming and looking down at my painted toes.
I’ve always been a bit spoiled, I can admit that, and Dante spoils me all the same as my father did. They’re a lot alike, really, and I think idly that I should plan a family dinner for all four of us and tell them about the baby.
My parents will be thrilled.
“I still can’t believe you’re pregnant,” Marta says incredulously. “Do you have a feeling if it’s a boy or a girl? My mother says that with my brother, she was convinced it was a boy from the moment she figured out she was pregnant. I’m skeptical.”
I snort. “You should be skeptical, because I have literally no idea,” I admit. “Besides, it’s just a little peanut right now. I have a doctor’s appointment on Monday to see how far along I am.”
Marta bounces excitedly. “Make sure you get pictures and send them to me.”
I smile, grateful for Marta’s continued support. “Of course I will. I still have to tell my parents.”
She chuckles. “That kid is going to have your dad wrapped around their little finger.”
I smile, thinking of my father holding a baby, cooing down at it. He loves babies and kids, always has, and I’ve seen him with lots of my cousins.
I can’t wait to have him meet my child.
And I can’t wait to get home to Dante and my perfect, happy life.
