As Connie had said, the books, awards, and photos grouped on the shelves were not only pleasant to look at but screamed “Lawyer.” Successful lawyer at that, he thought, proud of his friend for what she had accomplished.
There were more boxes inside her office. Jon and he helped her unpack those as well as hang her various diplomas and proofs of her admissions to the New York and New Jersey bars and various courts in the area. Carlo rested his hands on his hips as he viewed the documents and with a low whistle said, “Very impressive, counselor. I’m glad I have you on my side.”
Connie stepped over and laced her arm through his. “You do have me on your side and in more ways than one, Carlo. Give her a little more space. She’s confused and hurt and even if the latter might be unreasonable, to her it’s completely understandable.”
Carlo glanced at Connie out of the corner of his eye. She was a beautiful woman and pregnancy had only seemed to make her prettier. Or maybe it was the glow of happiness as Jonathan walked over, slid an arm around her waist, and dropped a kiss on her forehead.
“Get your own girl,” Jonathan teased.
Carlo smiled and put his hands up as if in surrender. “Believe me, I’m trying to.”
Connie jabbed him in the ribs. “Try harder.”
Chapter 27
Everything was moving along perfectly for the Adler’s New Year’s Eve vow renewal. Marie Adler had come in right after their meeting and immediately fallen in love with the dress Emma had picked out. Emma had met Simon the next day in New York City at his own tailor and they had selected his suit and exacted a promise that it would be available the week after Christmas. Since she was in Manhattan already and not far from Maggie’s office in the Chrysler Building, she decided to pop in and visit her friend.
As Maggie rose from behind her desk and walked over, Emma couldn’t help but see the very noticeable baby bump that stretched the fabric of Maggie’s dress. Maggie realized where Emma’s attention had been drawn and smoothed the wool across her belly, making it even more pronounced. “Crazy isn’t it? I just passed three months and I look almost as big as Connie.”
“And the doctor’s sure it’s twins?” Emma asked, but how else was it possible for her friend to be so big so fast.
“For sure,” Maggie said and took a seat on the sofa beside Emma. The antique piece, as well as most things in the office, had belonged to Maggie’s mother who had died in childbirth along with her baby son when Maggie had been a young child.
“How have you been feeling? No morning sickness like Connie?” Emma had worried about Connie’s illness which had lasted up until her fourth month, disappearing just in time for her wedding.
“Healthy as a horse,” Maggie replied with a broad smile that lit up eyes as blue as a Sea Kiss ocean. “How are you doing?”
“Not preggers, thankfully,” Emma replied with a laugh which earned a raised brow from her friend.
“Which implies that maybe you and . . . I hope it was Carlo . . . finally, you know,” Maggie finished awkwardly.
She had avoided giving her friends any real details about what was happening with Carlo because she knew they’d never leave it alone if she did. But her friends weren’t stupid, and it was obvious something had gone south after they had finally become involved.
“We did and . . .” She hesitated, unsure of what to say, but this was Maggie. Mama Maggie. The one person everyone in the group knew they could go to for understanding and comfort. She inhaled deeply and held it. Rushed on with her confession of sorts.
“We did and he was amazing. Caring. Sexy. Gorgeous,” she said and the heat of a blush blasted up her neck to her face.
Maggie examined her for long moments. Finally, hesitantly, she said, “And so you decided to ditch this caring, sexy, gorgeous man because?”
With a slash of her hand, Emma said, “I know you know everything the Pierce brothers do, so I don’t have to tell you that Carlo and Jon are buying the convention center.”
Nodding, Maggie sat back onto the cushions of the sofa and urged Emma to face her. “From what I understand, it’s Carlo, his brothers, Jon, and you who are buying the place.”
Shaking her head vehemently, Emma quickly countered Maggie. “He didn’t tell me about it. I had to find out from my boss when she offered me a partnership in the business because she was afraid of losing me.”
Maggie tsked and said, “Evelyn and Lucy should have offered that to you a long time ago. How many times did you complain to us about that?”
Emma couldn’t argue with her friend. She’d been working nearly nine years at the salon from when she’d started part time during college to when she’d become a regular and really expanded their wedding planning business to what it was today.
“I complained about it a lot,” she admitted.
“And now you have a chance to do what you’ve wanted to do for a long time. What you talked about doing with Carlo for years, right?”
“Right, but you of all people know the problems you can have with mixing business with your personal stuff. It caused you and Owen a shitload of problems. And Carlo didn’t even mention it to me until I called him on it. How was I supposed to react?” she shot back.
Maggie peered at her intently, obviously considering how to respond. With a dip of her head, she said, “You’ve known Carlo over eight years. Worked with him. Spent time with him and his family. In all that time did he ever do anything that would make you think that he wasn’t a good man?”
The little voice in her head was swift with a reply, but Emma hesitated until she reluctantly said, “No, but we all thought my father was a good man.”
Maggie laughed harshly. “No, you didn’t. You always told us what a bastard he was to you and your mom. And we could all see how he had beat you down, but you found the strength to pick up the pieces of your life and move on.”
Emma smiled sadly and stared at Maggie through the haze of tears. She took hold of her friend’s hand and said, “What I found were the best friends a girl could ask for. You guys gave me the strength to move on.”
Maggie shifted on the couch and hugged Emma hard. With a playful shake and a kiss on the cheek, Maggie said, “Now it’s time to move on to the next level.”
The next level was way higher than she’d ever pictured herself. It was almost like being at the edge of cliff, with uncertain ground beneath her feet. Her friends would always provide safe and steady terrain, but with Carlo she felt as if the ground was crumbling beneath her feet. But if she didn’t take a leap of faith and believe that the fall would take her to a better place, she’d never be able to move on with her life. A life which included one smart, honorable, and very sexy man.
I SHOULD HAVE STAYED home, Carlo thought as he glanced around the Christmas Eve table to find everyone paired off like the animals on Noah’s Ark, even his two youngest brothers. Paolo had brought a long-time female friend from the neighborhood while Tomás had invited Jesse and her six-year-old son Brandon to their family’s Christmas Eve gathering. Tomás was currently goofing off for the young child by eating some “gross” squid legs, earning loud complaints from Brandon and an admonishment from Carlo’s mother for Tomás to behave.
With a big chew and swallow, the calamari disappeared, prompting an even louder “Ewww” from Jesse’s son. Tomás ruffled Brandon’s wheat-colored hair and the boy teased his brother with, “You’re just jealous ‘cuz you got no hair.”
“You’re right,” Tomás said and ran his hand across the fresh buzz cut. The motion drew Jesse’s immediate attention and the smile that had been there before at their good-humored kidding faded. Possibly because she knew the main reason for the hair cut would be that Tomás had decided to re-enlist again once the doctors approved him for active duty.
She put on a brave face, though, much as he had for most of the afternoon and night as his mother and his older brothers and their wives had set out one dish after another for family and the friends who had popped in and out during the cours
e of the day. It had been busier in the afternoon hours which had saved him from the scrutiny of his parents and older brothers. But now that it was just close family sitting down for the meal, it was impossible to avoid the inevitable inquisition.
“Is Emma coming by later?” his eldest brother Ricardo asked as he placed a roasted stuffed turkey in front of their father so he could commence carving it.
Javier and his wife popped into the dining room barely seconds later, laden with a plate brimming with cod and greens drizzled with fragrant olive oil and another dish with deep fried marinade pork chunks which they set on the table. Much as Ricardo had done, Javier asked, “Is she going to be here tonight?”
Paolo jumped in to try and save him by making light of the situation. “Mano, he scared her off with his ugly mug because he’s not as handsome as the rest of us.”
All the men around the table laughed, while the women paused to stare at him as if he was the prize bull at the fair. Finally, Ricardo’s wife said, “You’re all just jealous because he’s the handsomest da Costa brother.”
“Thank you, Sofia,” Carlo said.
Ricardo walked over and laid his meaty hands on Carlo’s shoulders and squeezed affectionately, if not a little too hard as well. “Sofia, meu amor! He’s scrawny like that chicken you brought home the other day from the butcher. Since we can’t take him back, we’ll have to make sure he eats enough tonight to fatten him up!”
Relieved to be the brunt of their jokes instead of continuing the discussion about Emma, he joined in to goad his oldest brother. “Well then you better bring in what I cooked because I know that will be everyone’s favorite dish tonight.”
Javier strolled by and teasingly cuffed Carlo on the back of the head. “Cabrão, I bet it’s some nouvelle thing he thinks is food. Are you going to get out a tweezer to serve it to us?”
“Please watch your mouth, Javi. It is véspera de Natal you know,” Carlo’s mother Rosa chastised at his brother’s use of the cuss word.
Suitably reprimanded, Javier made a face, walked over to their mother, and hugged her. “Sorry, mamãe, but you know how hard-headed Carlo can be.”
His mother eyed him a little too seriously, warning him that trouble would soon follow. “I do. You’d think he’d either do something about that Emma or find someone else to give me some grandbabies.”
Carlo closed his eyes and lifted them heavenward. “Deus, give me strength,” he thought and muttered a curse beneath his breath, but obviously not low enough for his mother not to hear.
“Carlo! That’s enough. Now get up and help me bring out the rest of the food,” Rosa commanded, but as he got up from the table slowly, like a tired old man, he suspected his mother had a different reason for wanting to get him alone.
Like a school child headed to detention, he trudged to the kitchen where his brothers were already grabbing dishes to take out and their wives were busy pulling other items out of the oven, including the offering he had brought for the meal. As he headed to the counter, his mother in tow, the two other women looked their way, shared a glance, and immediately excused themselves.
The stuffed chickens he had made for their Christmas Eve meal sat in the roasting pan on the counter, one of the items his sisters-in-law had just removed from the oven. He had modified the traditional dish by deboning the birds and wrapping that meat around stuffing made from bread, eggs, spices, chicken livers and olives. It would make for easier slicing as well as more convenient leftovers for Christmas day.
“They look good,” his mother said as she came to stand before him as he lifted one of the chickens with perfectly golden and crisp skin from the pan and placed it on a cutting board.
“Thank you, mamãe, but we both know you didn’t ask me out here to talk about chickens,” he said and peered at her from the corner of his eye.
She wiped her hands on a nearby towel and said, “What’s going on with you, meu filho? Why isn’t Emma here with us like she’s been for the last what is it? Almost eight years?”
He shrugged as he started slicing the chicken and placing it on a serving platter. “We have some issues that we need to work out.”
A harsh laugh exploded from his mom. “Issues? You know what are issues?” Rosa said and jabbed her meaty finger in his direction. “Marrying a man with another woman’s children and having her family hate you for taking her place. Them never letting you forget that you’re not as good as she was. Those are issues, meu filho!” She finished that statement with a sniffle and a swipe of her eye.
He laid down the carving fork and knife and dragged his mother into his arms. He and his brothers had suffered their avo’s bite, but it had never occurred to him that his mother had been suffering even more. Hugging her hard, he said, “You’re the best mother any man, including Ricardo and Javier, could ever ask for.”
With another sniffle, his mom reached up and brushed back a lock of his hair from his forehead. “We all have issues, meu filho. Life isn’t perfect. But we find ways to deal with them so we can be with the people we love. You love her, right?”
He nodded. “I love her, mamãe. She’s smart and beautiful.”
His mother poked him in the ribs and teased, “She is and even with your ugly face, you’ll make nice grandbabies.”
“Don’t rush it. First, I have to get her to see me again,” he said and returned to carving the dish he had prepared.
His mother stepped back and cupped his face. “It’s a season of miracles, Carlo. Believe and it will happen and if it doesn’t, she’s a fool. Who couldn’t love my handsome and wonderful son?”
Teary-eyed and sniffling again, she shoved away from him to return to work and he couldn’t resist kidding her. “I always knew I was your favorite.”
“Bah,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Hurry up and get those nouvelle chickens of yours out there. We’ve got a family to feed.”
Chapter 28
Emma’s stomach groaned in protest after the long afternoon of appetizers and an evening of a multi-course dinner that the combined Pierce, Reyes, and Sinclair families had prepared at the Sinclair family beach home since the renovations to Connie and Jonathan’s kitchen were still being worked on. The day had been spent pleasurably with the families who had so much good news to celebrate with not only each other, but with Tracy and Emma and her mother, who had been invited to join them.
As Mrs. Patrick, Maggie’s housekeeper and their surrogate grandmother, rose to start clearing the dinner dishes, the four friends all jumped to their feet and urged the older woman to sit. She half-heartedly protested and said, “You girls spoil me.”
As Connie’s mom and Emma’s likewise rose, they once again waved off any help and began to bring all the plates into the kitchen to load. They had no sooner placed them on the counter to rinse when Jonathan and Owen came in with assorted plates precariously balanced on their arms.
Disbelief in her tones, Tracy said, “You ladies have taught them well.”
The two brothers laughed, unloaded the plates, and then went over to hug their wives.
Jonathan reached around and laid his hands on Connie’s baby belly and said, “Can’t take any chances with this precious bundle.”
“Glad to hear that. Now get your ass out there and finish bringing in the dishes so we can have dessert.”
“Dessert! I should have worn pants with an elastic waist,” Emma complained and rubbed her hands across her bloated midsection.
“You can’t disappoint my grandmother by not having dessert. She made your favorite flan,” Connie said and started rinsing and loading the dishwasher.
Connie’s grandmother’s flan was legendary and second only to Carlo who did a fantastic tropical version with mango in the flan and a to-die-for passion fruit glaze. Last Christmas Eve he’d brought it to Connie’s house in Union City and everyone had delighted in having a flan taste-off. She smiled as she recalled how Carlo had graciously given in and declared that the older woman’s flan was the hands down wi
nner.
Carlo, she thought with a sigh as she spent the next few minutes helping to clear away what was left of the main courses and packed up doggie bags for everyone to take home. Even Robert Pierce, Jonathan and Owen’s father, who she had always pegged as kind of stuck-up and elitist, had insisted that someone make sure he got some of the roast pork, black beans, and rice to take home.
She did just that, making sure enough for another dinner was packed in a plastic container that would let the meal travel well. She made up several other containers with similar servings as well as others with the delicious roast turkey and stuffing that Maggie and Mrs. Patrick had prepared.
Before long everyone was back at the dining room table, sampling the many sweets that friends and family had brought. Italian pastries from Del Ponte’s in Sea Kiss courtesy of Tracy. The famous Reyes flan. A fruit cake that Mrs. Patrick had baked, carefully soaked with rum syrup, and tended to for months. Cuban pastries that Connie’s mom had ordered from her favorite bakery in Union City.
Since sweet treats demanded coffee, Jonathan and Owen took care of that for everyone, prepping all kinds of fancy coffees with the machine Owen had bought for Maggie, who was a coffee addict and was currently suffering caffeine withdrawal thanks to her pregnancy. Not long after that, an assortment of after-dinner drinks emerged, including a bottle of a very special Irish whiskey courtesy of Mrs. Patrick.
Emma sat back and took it all in, savoring the easy rapport of everyone around the table. Her mother must have felt the same since she leaned close and whispered, “This is a nice family you’ve made for yourself, Emma.”
Taken aback, she peered at her mother intently to see if she was upset, but there was no hint of it on her mother’s calm beautiful features. She was happy, something Emma hadn’t seen in a long time and she wondered if her mother’s new beau had something to do with it. “Are you seeing Bill tomorrow?”
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