Ice Hard

by Tracy Goodwin

  “Everyone is. It’s time for Nick to meet the family.” Mike claps me on the back.

  Camille takes my hand in hers. It’s a subtle gesture, yet significant. We’re in this together. When all of the adults have gathered, Cami introduces me. “Benettis, Theo,”—she glances at Sally’s girlfriend—“this is Nick. Since you’re not wearing name tags, remember that meeting our brood is rough.”

  After making everyone laugh, Cami introduces everyone. Some I already know, like Matty and Sally. Everyone else is new. Fortunately, Sally’s girlfriend already knows names. She and Mike are helpful, along with Cami.

  “Let’s get this game started!” Beth shouts from the sidelines, sitting on a string of bleachers with the kids.

  I’ve never played baseball but how hard can it be? There’s a bat and a ball. I play with a stick and a puck professionally. No difference. It’ll be easy.

  Famous last words.

  “Strike two for the Dominator!” Matty is having far too much fun at my expense.

  “How are you doing?” Camille comes up from behind me, her mitt on, placing it against my back.

  What a loaded question. “I suck at baseball and I hate sucking at anything. I don’t fail. It isn’t in my DNA. Or wasn’t…until baseball.”

  My frustration mounts when Matty yells, “Come on, Nick! Just strike out again so we can eat.”

  “Hey! Shut it!” Camille glares at her little brother and he cowers.

  “That’s my gal. Totally terrifying,” I reply with mock severity.

  Camille shakes her head. “Baseball isn’t your thing. It doesn’t matter. Because I’m into you for you, not your ability with a bat. You put up with my annoying baby brother without brawling. Count this one as a win. I’ll reward you later.” Camille licks her lips as she backs away, implying what type of a reward I’ll receive, and I’m hard on anticipation and adrenaline as she heads back to her position at third base.

  When Matty throws the pitch, I swing, putting power into it. My bat makes contact and that little baseball, the bane of my existence, soars over the fence.

  Gasps, moans, and some “Oh my God!” statements fly through the same charged air when my ball smashes Camille’s father’s windshield. That beautiful, mint condition 2002 Eldorado ESC with the canvas top and chrome wheels, that they stopped making in 2002, now has a shattered windshield courtesy of me.

  Matty laughs. “Yes! The old man is going to be furious!”

  “I’m sorry!” My eyes find Camille immediately. Her mouth gapes open as I run to her. “I’m so sorry. I thought I was going to miss again.”

  Wrapping her arms around my neck, Cami massages the tense muscles. “You know how to make things challenging.”

  I didn’t, at least I never used to. Before Camille, my life was simple for the most part. Now, it’s turned into meeting large families and pissing off her father. “I’ll pay for it, of course. All the damage. Still, your dad is going to hate me.”

  “Hate is a strong word.” Camille puts pressure on my skin and rubs. “It might be a good idea if we don’t lead with this though. Meet him first, feel him out, then we’ll confess.”

  Mike joins us, announcing, “Benettis! Huddle! One of our own needs us.” Mike is giving his best pep talk. These things must run in the family. “Don’t tell Dad until he’s met Nick. Agreed?”

  Everyone nods while Theo adds, “It’s difficult enough getting on that man’s good side under normal conditions. Let’s have Nick’s back.”

  Everyone, even Matty, who has been busting my chops throughout this whole game, agrees.

  “I’m really sorry.” It’s all I can offer. Talk about a clusterfuck.

  “You didn’t know your own strength,” Kayla, Mike’s wife, speaks in a motherly tone. “I didn’t know your own strength. Sorry about that.”

  Matty hoots. “Seriously! I thought you sucked, man. You proved me wrong with a bang!”

  I take a look at the family huddled around me. It’s a team and they’ve allowed me into their ranks. It’s nice, this feeling of inclusion. When we leave formation, and Camille guides me back several paces, I’m relieved for some time alone with her.

  “That was impressive.” She smiles, with a mischievous glint in her topaz eyes, which are now glowing like the sun. “Remember one thing when you’re meeting my dad, and when he finds out about his windshield: you will be rewarded for today. First, let’s face my dad.”

  She could have left the last part out. Let’s face my dad. It sounds more imposing each time I think about it.

  Shit, I’m in trouble.

  Chapter 19

  Camille

  Nick and I are immediately assailed with kitchen aromas upon entering Mike’s home.

  “Someone’s cooking Italian,” Nick’s tone is brimming with admiration as he surveys the cozy entry hall with pictures of Mike’s wedding, Mike’s kids, and the rest of our family hanging on the walls in honey-colored wood frames that blend in with the beige color scheme.

  I tug Nick’s hand, stopping before we proceed any farther. “My Aunt Jo does the cooking, and while it’s not your shrimp scampi, she is rather exceptional. So are you. Remember that, okay?”

  Nick kisses my cheek. For us, it’s chaste, but it’s all the reassurance I need as we head past the living room, where my siblings are already seated, and enter the kitchen.

  The five-foot-four brunette behind the stove causes me to halt mid-step. My Aunt Jo’s resemblance to my mom is always like a gut punch, but especially when she’s in the kitchen. Flashes of my mom, in our kitchen and at the restaurant, overcome me. I’ve conditioned myself to smile, to embrace her from behind, and to say hi, ignoring that lump that inevitably forms in my throat.

  Aunt Jo turns and hugs me. “You’re here and praise God, you brought a boyfriend! Hi, beautiful girl.”

  After studying me and raising her eyebrow as if to insinuate that I’m not eating well, her attention turns to Nick. “Who is this stud?”

  “Aunt Jo, meet Nick George.”

  My aunt cups Nick’s chin with her palms, “I heard about you. Sally was right. You are hot!”

  “So are you.” He winks at her. His smile is warm and confident. “Are you sure you’re not Sally’s sister? You look just as young and gorgeous.”

  “What a smooth talker you are. Welcome, handsome.” Jo laughs. “You’re here just in time for her dad’s announcement.”

  Announcement. Shit! I’d almost forgotten. “Any idea what Dad plans to announce?” I ask, betting that my dad has found a buyer for the restaurant. By placing his hand on my back, Nick is silently convincing me that he believes the same. His intuition is never wrong. Isn’t that what he said? Tension knots within my muscles and Nick massages my shoulders.

  “It’ll be okay. Whatever happens,” he mutters.

  “You’re good for her.” My aunt Jo is smiling at Nick like he hangs the sun, which means one thing: she approves of him. If only my dad is as easily convinced. My dad…the thought of his announcement causes my veins to turn to ice.

  I knew the day would come when he’d find a buyer for Benetti’s. Why then am I so tense?

  Because it’s the end of my family’s legacy. And because I know that once the restaurant is gone, so am I. Or, at least that’s what I decided, pre-Nick. We’re too new to keep me here if I get a job offer. That’s what any rational woman in my position would think. Nothing is set in stone. Even though we have declared our love, I can’t predict how long this will last. What is it they say about stars burning fast and bright? They die out quick. The fact that I compare my relationship with Nick to a combusting celestial thing is troubling. I’m doubting us, questioning how long we’ll last.

  My dad calls my name from the living room. Nick, Aunt Jo, and I head to where he is. My brother Ben has saved Aunt Jo a seat, while Nick and I proceed t
oward my dad.

  My dad isn’t a hugger. He’d rather show no emotion, so I’ve stopped trying. “Hi, Dad. This is Nick George.”

  Nick offers his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Benetti.” He’s polite, easygoing, friendly…everything my dad should welcome.

  How does my dad respond? By shaking Nick’s hand and declaring, “I didn’t expect you, Nick.”

  “I didn’t expect to see you here today, Dad. What’s your big announcement?” Taking Nick’s hand, I lead him behind the sofa, deflecting my dad’s abrupt statement with a gentle squeeze. In response, Nick holds my hand tight. His support doesn’t waver, that persistent pressure both gentle and strong.

  Mike settles down our siblings and cousins. “Let Dad speak, guys.”

  Dad nods his approval to Mike. The golden child. With the high-paying career and the picture-perfect family. More images of smiling kids and family portraits fill Mike’s living room, and are lined up upon the fireplace mantel behind my dad. So many smiles. So many memories—both good and bad. That’s what family is. For better or worse. It’s at this moment that I make the decision to let it go—let the restaurant go for good.

  Whether or not it remains in our family, I’ll always have memories of my mom. Those are precious. So is the ring she gave me, and all of her advice over the years. My mom’s legacy is larger than any building, her influence is something that’s within me. It’s time to move on. So, when my dad clears his throat, I’m prepared….

  “Kids.” My dad scratches his chin. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m not going to sugarcoat it. I’m getting married.”

  I do a double take. Did I just hear correctly? By the look of shock and awe on my brothers’ faces, I did.

  “You’re what?” Beth stands. “To who?”

  The doorbell chimes. It couldn’t have been better timed if it were a Hollywood production. Mike reluctantly walks to the hallway. Even he knows what’s lurking on his front stoop. No matter how nice this woman may be, Beth is about to tear into my dad, and his fiancée is going to get an earful. Beth has never liked to share our father’s attention with any of us, her siblings. Add a fiancée into the mix, and Beth’s primal instinct is going to be to challenge her competition. Beth knows drama and creates it without as much as a thought. Today will be no exception.

  “I assume this is your fiancée?” Mike thrusts his hands in his pockets. His grimace is all I need to confirm that he isn’t happy with the shit-show Beth is about to air in his living room. Our not-so-happy family’s façade is about to crack.

  An older woman with short blond curls and meticulous makeup, garbed in a jade-colored dress and matching coat, enters the room.

  “Stella.” My dad rushes over to her. “You’re right on time. This is Stella. Stella, this is my family.”

  Dad is smiling, a true smile, for the first time since Mom passed away. It takes ten years off him, his features brightening as he presents his fiancée. She smiles, looking at each of us, and I wonder what she must be feeling at this moment when so many are stunned. My dad could have given us a heads-up. I didn’t know he was dating. From the obvious surprise on everyone’s faces, no one knew.

  I wave to her, smiling. It’s what my mom would have wanted me to do. The room remains silent, so I introduce myself and Nick. Her eyes soften, and she smiles as if grateful for my kindness.

  After clearing her throat, Aunt Jo says hello to Stella. My aunt is visibly shaken, fidgeting before fleeing into the kitchen. I want to follow her, comfort her. Mom was Jo’s sister. This can’t be easy for her. Now isn’t the time for me to leave. I catch Sally’s gaze and nod, noting that she’s already rising. She’ll take care of her mom.

  No one else speaks. I’m about to introduce everyone when, as if sensing the animosity in the room, Stella excuses herself. She follows Sally and Jo into the kitchen. Oh, to be a fly on that wall. Something tells me it will be a much calmer place than the living room.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Beth’s cheeks are crimson and she’s loud enough for all to hear. Music now drifts from the kitchen. Jo or Sally must be trying to mute my sister’s unadulterated rage. Good luck with that. Beth’s on a streak. “How can you do this to Mom?”

  “Technically, Mom isn’t here, Beth. She’s been gone for a while, and Dad’s not doing anything to her—”

  “Shut up, Matty. Mom died, she didn’t abandon us. She can’t be this easily forgotten.” Beth glares at my dad.

  Mom wouldn’t want this. I know that, so I do what she would do. “Mom would want us to hear Dad out, Beth. We owe him that.”

  “God, Cami. You’re such the dutiful daughter.” Beth rounds on me. “No matter how hard you try, he’ll never approve of you or entrust the restaurant to you. How can you stand up for him?”

  I thought I made this clear. “It’s what Mom would want—”

  “Are you that desperate for the restaurant that you’ll kiss his ass while he forgets about Mom?” Ben’s jumped into the fray. Ben, with middle-child syndrome, has always sided with Beth. And being the only other girl in our family, I’ve received my share of Beth’s ire, and Ben’s.

  They’re angry. I get it. “If you want to take your frustrations out on me, that’s fine. Just give Dad a chance to talk first.”

  Nick’s fingers are linked firmly with mine. He’s here. Beside me. He’s supporting me. It reminds me that I’ve been so concerned about how everyone else is reacting to the news that I haven’t fully processed it myself.

  My dad’s been on the dating circuit…the one that I’ve been out of for way too long. I never even suspected it. Not in the least. “Tell us about Stella, Dad. When did you meet her?”

  “Last year. We attend the same bereavement group. Stella and I were friends, then…” he doesn’t finish.

  Beth scoffs. “Then what? You forgot about Mom and asked some stranger to replace her.”

  “Lay off, Beth!” I didn’t mean to sound so confrontational. I was caught up in the expression of hurt emanating from my father’s sunken eyes, all of his prior happiness now drained.

  My sister stomps toward me, her finger pointed in the air. “Stop acting like Mom! You can’t replace her any more than this Stella woman can.”

  “Stop, Beth! You’re way out of line.” Mike stands, glaring at Beth.

  “How? By calling little Miss Who’s-the-boss out on her shit?” Beth scoffs again and my insides hurt. Hell, my heart aches. She doesn’t notice, instead she plows ahead with more insults. “You’re always there, swooping in, coming to our rescue. Taking Mom’s place. So desperate for a someone to care for. God, Cami! You’re pathetic.”

  Forget aching. My heart stings, as do my eyes. Hurt and betrayal cloud my vision. “I never wanted to take Mom’s place. I supported you, all of you when you needed it. Because we’re family and I care.”

  “You only care about that damned restaurant and Daddy’s approval.” Beth looks to Ben and Matty. “Come on. Admit it, guys. We know it. We’ve laughed about it.”

  Her words hang in the air. “Let me get this straight…I’m some joke to you? Is that what you’re telling me?” Nick still holds my hand in his firm grip. He’s now placed his free palm on my back. I feel like he’s keeping upright as my knees begin to buckle.

  I think about all the times I supported Beth, helped her with her kids, and helped her through her separation. “Is that what you did every time I consoled you about your breakup with Scott, or when I folded your kids’ laundry or babysat? You laughed at me behind my back?”

  “Let’s stop this now.” Mike tugs Beth back, away from me.

  Shaking my head, I refuse to cry even though I want to. “It’s too late to stop, Mike. Finish, Beth. Tell me how pathetic I am for supporting you, and how bossy I am for letting you cry to me about your marriage. Every time, every week—sometimes twice a week, three times a week
. You’re telling me that when I came to help you, you were laughing behind my back?”

  She won’t meet my eyes. Not anymore. “Did it ever occur to you how painful you made those visits for me? Always mentioning my loss, reminding me of everything I don’t have. Or was that deliberate?”

  My sister winces. It was deliberate. She never expected the dutiful Cami to call her out.

  “How about you, Matty? All the times I covered for you or helped with tuition…were you mocking me, too?”

  Matt shakes his head, though it’s limp and lacks conviction. “Sorry, Cami.”

  “That’s an admission if ever I heard one.” I glance at Ben and Mike. “Your turn, guys.”

  “No, Cami. I’ve never felt that way.” Mike is adamant.

  Ben looks from Matt to Beth with disgust. “Me neither. You helped me get through Mom’s death. I don’t resent that. No one should. I lashed out before, and I’m sorry, but I didn’t take part in this Matt and Beth crap.”

  Matt and Beth…the same brother and sister who put me on Scorcher. “Were you trying to humiliate me by creating a profile for me on Scorcher?”

  Nick exhales a swift breath. “Shit.”

  “No!” Matt looks to Beth for confirmation. She refuses to give it.

  My own sister tried to make a fool out of me. “All that talk of wanting me happy was a lie. You wanted to embarrass me, to laugh about me even more than you had been.” Though I inhale, I can’t catch my breath. This is cruel, and well beyond Beth’s sisterly pranks of stealing my makeup and trashing my closet. It’s also well past her competitive, perfect persona. She kicked me when I was down, or she thought I was down. That’s a low blow, even for my sister.

  “I am ashamed of my children.” My dad’s admission catches me off guard. “Bickering, turning against one another.”

  “Not all of us.” Mike moves to my side of the room, as if in solidarity.

  “All this time, Camille wanted to know why I didn’t allow her to purchase the restaurant and I remained silent.” My dad looks at me, the wrinkles in his brow and puffiness under his eyes more pronounced. “You sacrificed so much after your mother died. Too much. It’s time for you to live for yourself.”