“You might wanna pack somethin’ a little dressy, in case
we decide to go out for a nice dinner,” Lilah suggested while tucking
another pair of leggings into her suitcase.
The morning light had brought Tony no miraculous answers. He still had no
idea how to tell his wife that he was going to spend the better part of the
next year away from home. Their efforts
at making this marriage work may never get off the ground unless he could find
the right way to break the news to her.
They’d had cereal with the kids earlier this morning and
then, while he was in his office tying up a few loose ends, Lilah had taken
them to some type of story hour or another.
Even with the silence that allowed him to hear his thoughts, he wasn’t
able to work it out in his mind. The
only thing it had given him was a guilty conscience.
Now, they were only a short time away from having his
entire family convene downstairs and he was still clueless. It made him a little edgy and, since she was
offering suggestions on his wardrobe, he figured it was fair that he make his
own recommendations.
“I will if you’ll leave the leggings at home.”
Her forehead crinkled with confusion. “I, uh…
What’s wrong with my leggin’s?”
“They’re ugly.”
Confusion turned to hurt for an instant before the Shield
of Apathy settled over her features.
“Oh. I didn’t realize you had
such a strong opinion about ‘em.” She retracted
the offending items from her bag and put them back in the closet.
He was being an asshole by taking his frustration out on
her.
“I didn’t mean to be a dick.”
“No, no,” she deferred, not meeting his eyes. “The deal was that we’d always speak our
mind. We lost track of that at some
point, but I’m glad you’re pickin’ it back up.
I wish you’d do it more often.”
She had just left him an opening big enough to drive a
Mack truck through. There would never be
a more perfect opportunity to tell her about the tour, and he would be an idiot
to let it pass him by without speaking.
“Lilah-“
“Mommy! Mommy!” M.J. burst into the room with a storm cloud brewing on her little face. “Lucas needs to be spanked!”
Tony didn’t know whether to chastise his daughter for
interrupting or kiss her. Perhaps it
wasn’t M.J., but Fate intervening to tell him it wasn’t time for this
conversation yet. Weirder things had
happened since Lilah appeared in his life.
“Why is that?” her mother inquired, obviously immune to
their daughter’s theatrics. From what
Tony had seen, M.J. thought Lucas needed spanked every day for some act of
treason.
“He said Mr. Bear looked like poop and THREW HIM IN THE
POTTY!”
Mr. Bear was Micah Jane’s most cherished stuffed friend
and he went everywhere with her. As a
result, the little brown bear had weathered vomit, mud puddles, chicken noodle
soup and probably a dozen more things that Tony wasn’t aware of or wanted to
think about. After every such instance,
Lilah soaped the little guy up and made him good as new. The bear would eventually be unable to
survive any more bathing, but for now he was still hanging tough.
Their precocious child crossed her arms over her chest
and looked expectantly at her mother. Undoubtedly,
she expected Lilah to be as mortified as she was and couldn’t understand why
corporal punishment wasn’t already being administered to her Machiavellian brother.
Lilah didn’t find the situation nearly as horrifying and
continued packing her panties, offering only the little girl an nonchalant,
“Well, you’d better get him out before Lucas decides to flush.”
The sentence was barely out of her mouth before M.J. let
loose with a shriek that pierced Tony’s eardrums. They were still reverberating when the little girl flew
out the door as quickly as she’d flown in.
“I cannot wait until he loses his fascination with all
things bathroom. This poop thing is
gettin’ old real quick.”
Tony appreciated Lilah’s fortitude. Yes, he lived with his kids, but the sauce
business had him in and out of the house for long stretches of time, so he
didn’t bear the everyday brunt that his wife did. These were the times when he was grateful for
that – and Lilah. If they were actually
going to try and improve their relationship, it wouldn’t kill him to express
that gratitude.
“You’re a good mom.”
Her head popped up from her packing, surprise etched in the
lines creasing her forehead. “I keep
them from killing each other, if that’s the yardstick you’re usin’ to measure
good,” she replied deprecatingly. “Most
days I think they might be better off if I gave ‘em up for adoption.”
Now Tony was the one surprised. “Not that it’s a fuckin’ option, but why
would you think that?”
“Because I hate being a stay at home mom and, eventually,
they’re gonna think it’s their fault.”
He found himself a little dumbfounded. Hadn’t she – just last night, in fact –
refused to get a job and leave the kids?
Not exactly. Specifically, she said she wouldn’t have much
of her paycheck left after paying for a babysitter. You just paraphrased to suit yourself.
“I don’t even know what to say to that.”
Her smile was anything but cheerful when she zipped her
bag and hefted it off the bed. “There’s
nothin’ to say. It is what it
is.”
“So you’re going to be voluntarily miserable-“
She silenced him with a raised palm. “I don’t wanna talk about it. Your parents should be arrivin’ any
minute. They’re comin’ early so your dad
can use our kitchen to put the lasagna together.”
If he were more sure of where they stood, he might have –
hell, he would have – pushed the matter.
Their current state of limbo had him biting back his reaction, which was
somewhere between thinking her an alien and declaring her an idiot.
Those thoughts aside, he did wonder about something else. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Not about the most recent subject, no.”
God she was stubborn.
“Not about that.”
She paused in putting away shoes that hadn’t made the
vacation cut and nodded, watching him warily.
“Alright, then.”
“You said something about speaking our minds
earlier. Why did you stop speaking
yours?”
Blue-green eyes that were, for once, unshielded by
glasses solemnly studied him as Lilah considered her response. Whether she was trying to decide why, or
deciding if she wanted to tell him, Tony didn’t know. Whatever the decision, it seemed like seconds
crawled by into minutes before she shrugged with a sad little frown.
“You stopped listenin’.”
###
“Lucas Anthony, if you don’t sit your fanny down in that
chair you can forget about gettin’ any birthday cake!”
The birthday party was well underway. His dad had prepared the famous Bongiovi
lasagna while Lilah had taken on the salad, Matt and Desiree had brought
freshly made bread, and Jon and Dorothea brought wine. It was a typically boisterous family dinner,
especially once the wine started flowing.
There was talk of the sauce business, Matt’s latest
project and, of course, Jon’s album and upcoming tour. That
part made Tony a little tense, but everything was kept at a superficial level,
thank God.
A folding table had been put up in the family room for
the kids – Lucas, M.J., Jacob, Romeo, Rocco and Isabella. Although Jon and Matt’s kids were old enough
to shepherd the littlest two, Lilah had still seated herself so that she could
keep an eye on them for herself. That
was a smart move on her part since, getting restless in anticipation of cake, Lucas
had apparently decided he’d rather stand in his chair than sit. His cousins and sister hadn’t seen it as a problem.
“How long do I hafta sit?”
“Until you finish everything on your plate,” Micah Jane
declared importantly.
There was every possibility that his daughter was the
inspiration for a meme he’d seen on Facebook.
The picture was a little girl about M.J.’s age looming over a cowering
little boy, who was about Lucas’s age, and threatening him with a stick. The
caption read, “I’m not bossy, I have management skills! Understand?!”
“Micah Jane, I am quite capable of answerin’ for myself,”
Lilah informed lower management. “If I
need your help, I will ask for it.
Lucas, you have to sit there until I say you can get up.”
“But Mama-“
“Only butt I wanna hear about is yours in that
chair. Sit!”
Tony dipped his head to hide his laughter as Lucas
dropped his ass to the chair with a huff, but his brothers weren’t smart enough
to keep their amusement on the down low.
They were laughing outright at the antics of the two kids and, more so, Lilah.
Their amusement earned a double dose of stink eye from
Lilah and Dorothea before Dot called to the two children she had in
attendance. “Jacob and Romeo, please
help Lucas and M.J. stay out of trouble.”
“Rocco, Isabella, you too,” Desiree instructed her own.
All involved offered the expected grumbles, but finally
agreed to do as they were told.
“I don’t care if you beg until you cry,” Jon instigated a
blatant change of subject to distract the Stink Eye Brigade, and pointed a
finger at Tony. “Those goddamn cats are
not coming to my house.”
The cats he spoke of were Tony and Lilah’s – okay Lilah’s
– two. There was sixteen year old
Tinkerbell who really wanted nothing but cat treats and attention, and six
month old Jinx, who had replaced the other cat that went missing a while back. Jinx wasn’t quite as laid
back as Tink and had been known to raise a little bit of kitty hell in the form
of toilet paper destruction. The felines
drove Tony nuts most of the time, and he fully understood his brother’s stance.
Too bad for Jon that Dorothea didn’t share that understanding. Or maybe she did, but she was nicer about it, and gave her husband a second generous dose of stink eye. “Jon, don’t be an ass.”
“I’m not being an ass.
It’s my house and I hate fucking cats.
I don’t want ‘em there.”
Lilah shook her head with amusement. “I am very well aware of your aversion to
cats, Jon, and would never dream of askin’ you to keep ‘em. I have one of the neighbors comin’ over to
feed ‘em while we’re gone.”
“You know, Lilah,” Dorothea reverted back to a previous
subject in an effort to keep Jon’s foot out of his mouth as she sipped the last
of her wine. “I’m really surprised that
you’re letting Tony go on tour. Two energetic kids and two cats are going to
be a handful by yourself for the better part of a year. I mean, I’m sure you’ll handle it just fine, but still… If you need anything, make sure to call me.”
No one at the table would’ve guessed Lilah didn’t already
know about Tony’s part in the tour. She
merely smiled, placed her silverware in the center of her plate and thanked
Dorothea for the kind offer before beginning to clear everyone else’s dishes. Tony was the only one who saw the Shield of
Apathy come into play, and it was accompanied by the lesser used Cloak of
Denial and Armor of Self-Preservation.
Goddamnmotherfuckersonofabitch.
He knew his sister-in-law was simply voicing admiration
and support, but Dorothea’s casual commentary had just fucked up Tony’s world.
“Here, let me help with those dishes,” his mother offered,
also starting to gather empty plates.
“No.” Lilah’s
refusal wasn’t politely extended out of obligation, it was authoritative – but she
softened it with another demure smile. “Y’all
just sit here and visit while I get the cake.
Have some more wine. It won’t
take me a minute.”
“It’s okay, Mom,” Tony assured, standing to retrieve the
stack of dishes his mother had accumulated.
“You sit. I’ll help Lilah.”
Lilah’s mouth tightened at the corners, but she didn’t
attempt to refuse him. He took that to
mean she was going to take the opportunity to rip him a new ass, and braced
himself for it as he entered the kitchen.
To his surprise, she merely set the plates carefully
beside the sink and opened the cabinet for a fresh set to use for dessert. Those were placed gently on the island next
to the amaretto cake she’d baked for him.
Another trip to the cabinet had Mickey Mouse and Cinderella plates for their
kids, and a dip into the cutlery drawer produced a handful of forks and a big knife. All of that also ended up on the island’s
surface without as much as a clatter.
He followed suit by also putting his stack of dirty
plates beside the sink and stood quietly, waiting for her anger until he couldn’t
take the silence any longer.
“Lilah-“
“Don’t talk to me,” she cut him off as she began plating
the cake.
“But I just-“
“Not now.”
“Goddammit-“
“I said don’t talk to me. Right now I have a dinin’ room full of guests
waitin’ for cake,” she reminded him, again pushing the huge chef’s knife
through two layers of amaretto and buttercream.
“They’re not guests, they’re family. Let ‘em wait.”
“No.” The first
slice landed on its plate and she scooted it to the side, making room for the
next. “They are your family. They are my guests because, mark my word, if
we end up divorced, you won’t be able to say ‘community property’ before I’m nothin’
more than ‘Tony’s ex’.
He didn’t bother telling her how stupid that was, because
he got hung up on a single word that had nothing to do with her place in the
family.
Divorce.
It was the first time he could remember her dropping the
‘D’ word. At the very least, it was the
first time she’d said it as though it were a legitimate option. Hell, who knew? Maybe it was, but he still had to make amends
for this shit storm.
“We’re not-“
“Do you see that I have a very large knife in my
hand?” The point of it was brought
within inches of his face as proof, and he became very still. He had a valid concern that she would put a slice in him just because she could and because – maybe –
he deserved it.
“Yeah.”
“Then get the hell out of my kitchen and go entertain your family.”
The prospective weapon returned to
harmlessly doling out cake slices.
She didn’t look angry. She didn’t look hurt. Lilah was… eerily emotionless.
Her eyes were flat and dull as though she was completely
separated from herself, and it quite frankly scared the shit out of him. Tony had watched enough crime dramas to know
that she could butcher him with that knife and legitimately claim
insanity.
There was no way she was mentally stable at this moment,
and that knowledge was enough to make him back down.
For now.
Left with nothing else to do, he turned on his heel and
rejoined the family.
Loved this one! Tony is in trouuuuuble! Lol
ReplyDeleteI need to know where I can get some Armor of Self Preservation. I think it would be helpful at work.
ReplyDeleteOh, and Tony is in big trouble.