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“Sounds good.” I wrapped my hand around her and rested it on her belly as I rolled my head around, trying to stretch out the tension in my neck.
“I’m not sure what you like on yours,” she continued. “I got pepperoni and cheese, but there’s a ton of vegetables in the fridge, so just let me know if you like other toppings and I can slice them up really quick. It’s no big deal. Super easy.”
“Esther,” I murmured, reaching out to put my hand on hers. “Pepperoni sounds good. I don’t need fancy shit on my pizza.”
“Are you sure?” She turned to look at me, and I immediately knew something was off.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Something is.” I looked around the kitchen trying to figure out what had her so balled up, but nothing was out of place.
“I just wanted our first dinner to be really nice,” she said, so fast her words were running together. “But I’m so tired and everything I planned will take so long and then we’ll be eating at bedtime, so I thought we could just do homemade pizza but now it seems really stupid because we’ve been eating out every day and I should have made something home cooked like pot roast and I just really wanted to make our first dinner nice and—”
“Yeah, you mentioned that,” I said, cutting off the flow of words as her eyes started watering. “Sugar, this is nice.”
“No it’s not.”
“Homemade pizza is my favorite.”
“No, it’s not,” she argued, sniffling, but her lips tipped up at the corners.
“Sure as fuck is,” I insisted.
“Well, then I guess I picked the perfect first dinner.” She rolled her eyes.
I was just leaning down to kiss her when someone started knocking on the front door.
“Someone’s here.” Esther looked toward the front door.
“What the hell?” I murmured, leaning back up.
Quickly pulling my phone out of my pocket, I checked to make sure no one had called. I could only guess that there was some kind of emergency if someone was showing up unannounced at my house. On my way past the couch, I reached into the left side cushion and pulled out the pistol hidden there.
“What in the world?” Esther blurted out behind me. I probably should’ve told her it was there.
Holding the pistol in my right hand, I opened the door with my left.
“Titus?” My little brother had never looked so guilty.
“I’m sorry, Otto.”
I didn’t even notice the little blonde girl until she started calling for my wife.
“Esther?”
“I’m so sorry,” Titus repeated, grimacing.
“Noel?” Esther called from behind me.
“She’s been so fuckin’ upset,” Titus said beseechingly, his jaw clenched. “I couldn’t keep lying.”
“Esther?” the little blonde girl called again as Esther pushed her way past me.
“I had to tell her Esther was okay,” Titus finished dumbly as Esther and her sister collided in a tangle of clinging arms and sobs. “Dad’s gonna murder me.”
“He’s not the only one,” I replied grimly.Shit.
