by Robin Kaye
Wayne nodded, “I heard some yelling coming from down here. Thin walls, shoddy construction. But I thought you two were just enjoying yourselves, if you know what I mean.”
Becca refused to go there. “Once he stopped being belligerent, we were able to table the marriage discussion, but it’s still there, lurking. I don’t know how else to explain it.”
Both guys nodded.
“I don’t know what to do now. Dean Stewart and his wife Emily are coming for dinner Saturday night, which is why I brought a bunch of my work here. Emily is the head of a small arts council, and she knows everyone who’s anyone in the New York art world. She can really help my career if she likes my work, and it sounds as if she’s interested…”
Wayne nodded. “But now there’s this big pink elephant in the room. You don’t know how to deal with Rich, and you’re understandably nervous about this big dinner. Wow, you’ve got a whole lot going on, don’t you, girlfriend?”
Becca took a bite of her roll and nodded. “Yes, and it’s not like I can talk to Annabelle about it. It’s bad enough that she’s Rich’s sister, but she’s living her happily ever after with my big brother.” Becca set her food down and refilled her coffee. “Is there anything worse than an Italian woman in the honeymoon stage of a relationship? Annabelle sees hearts and flowers wherever she looks, and she wants everyone she loves as happy as she is.”
Henry passed her the cream. “And you’re not?”
Becca took the time to fix her coffee and was thankful that Tripod had finally caught his prey. He bopped over and laid the dead ferret at her feet. She stopped to rewind it and let the toy go on the carpet off to the side of the table. Tripod went wild—he was wild to begin with, but with all the caffeine buzzing through his bloodstream, he was even more insane than usual. The guys were fascinated and gave her time to think of an answer. When their attention returned to her she took a deep breath. “I’m happy where things are. I never thought about marriage, other than to avoid it, at all costs. I’m the product of a shotgun marriage that ended badly. Hell, it was bad from day one.”
Henry leaned over and patted her hand. “Becca, honey, history doesn’t always repeat itself. There’s no reason you can’t have a happy marriage.”
“I know that in here.” She tapped her forehead. “But I don’t think I’ve ever seen a happy marriage. I’ve only seen the miserable ones, and that makes a real impression. I can’t think of anything worse than being married to the wrong person. I’ve never been in love before. I’m not even sure how to do this.”
Wayne crossed his arms and studied her. “Never?”
Becca rolled her eyes. “Okay, I thought I was once, then I found out my mother was sleeping with him, too. It tends to leave a bad taste in your mouth.”
Henry’s eyes went wide. “I can understand that. I’m so sorry.”
Becca shrugged away his pity—she was so over that. “I just wish I could slow things down. Get used to being part of a couple. I don’t know why he had to ruin what we have right now.”
“Did he?” Henry sat back and cradled his teacup in his hands. “It seems to me that he just made his intentions clear. He’s obviously crazy about you. Heck, that was evident to me that day we came down to welcome you to the neighborhood.”
Wayne nodded. “Rich strikes me as an evolved alpha male. And if you ask me, they’re the best kind. He’s the kind of man who wants to take care of his woman, but he’s evolved enough to know that caring for a smart, independent woman doesn’t always involve all the macho pissing match crap that drives women nuts.”
Becca nodded. “I agree, but that still doesn’t help me figure out how to handle all this marriage talk without hurting him. I’ve already done a bad job of that. I need a plan.”
Henry sat forward again. “Becca, there’s no way to plan affairs of the heart. The best advice I can give you is to just talk to him about it. Tell him your concerns, and let him tell you how he feels. Make sure you really listen to him, and hear what he says, and realize that what a man says is not always what he means. I wonder if there’s something else going on. It sounds as if he might be afraid of losing you for some reason.”
“Why would he think that? I haven’t given him a reason to think I’d leave him. Just the opposite, I asked him to move into the new place with me.”
“I’m sure you did, but men need to be told how much you care. As sweet as you are, Becca, you seem the type to keep your cards close to the vest. I might be way off here, but in my experience, most men don’t just jump into a marriage proposal unless someone’s put their feet to the fire. Find out what’s going on with him.”
“Do you think he might have asked me to marry him because of pressure at work?”
“No, I didn’t say that. But it could be that he’s afraid of losing you for a reason that’s purely internal. The point is you’ll never know unless you ask.”
The buzzer went off, and Becca set her cup down and went to see who it was. “Yes?”
“Becca, it’s Aunt Rose Albertini.”
“Come on up.” She pressed the door release and turned to the guys. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting her.”
Henry and Wayne stood and began clearing the table. Henry grinned. “From what Rosalie and Annabelle always said, the old bird’s psychic. She must know you need to talk to her.”
“Yeah, I just hope she doesn’t know anything else.”
Becca opened the door to Aunt Rose who stepped in, hugged Becca, and kissed both cheeks before patting one. “See, I told you, you no stay skinny for long. I see my Richie is feeding you.”
Becca looked down. She didn’t think she’d gained weight.
Aunt Rose turned and saw Henry and Wayne. “Sit, sit. I just come for a rest and a cup of coffee.”
Wayne stood. “I’ll make some.”
Aunt Rose handed Becca her twenty-ton black purse and her coat. “Nonsense. I make’a myself.” She bustled into the kitchen, opened a drawer, took out an apron Becca never knew existed, and tied it around her thick waist. “You boys so nice, visiting my Becca. She gets lonely when Richie’s away.”
“Aunt Rose—”
Aunt Rose waved Becca away. “She don’t think she needs friends or a husband.” She lowered her voice. “She’sa gonna learn though. Life is nothing without love, family, and friends.” She turned to Becca who had crossed her arms and was tapping her toe while she bit her tongue. “You sit. Mangia, mangia. Tell me how my godson is.”
Becca sat. She figured it was easier that way. “It’s funny you should stop by. I was planning to call you today.”
Aunt Rose put coffee in the filter. “Si, I don’t like’a the phone, so I came for a nice visit.” She turned to the guys. “Becca and Richie are having a big dinner. They need my lasagna.”
Becca sat and shook her head. “So, Rich called you?”
“Richie doesn’t call unless he wants someting.”
It didn’t escape Becca that Aunt Rose never really answered the question, but since the hair on her arms was already standing up, she decided not to pursue it.
“When you make’a one of those lists you so good at, make’a sure you put to borrow my big espresso pot. You can’t have a nice dinner wit’ no espresso. Eh? I give you my special coffee. You like. And tell Richie to buy good Zoom Zoom.”
Becca opened her notebook and added “espresso pot” to it. “Zoom Zoom?”
“Sure, you know, Annisette, Sambuca—Zoom, Zoom. If’a you want, I can get Maria to make’a you her tiramisu. Just don’t tell her you serving my lasagna.” She shook her head. “Maria don’t like that I’m a better cook. But eh? What can you do?” She took a plate out of the cabinet. “Wayne, you made cinnamon rolls?”
“Yes, why don’t you have some? I’ll get the coffee when it’s finished. Sit and rest your feet.”
Aunt Rose left the kitchen, and Wayne held her chair while Henry rose. She waved him down. “Such’a nice boys.”
Becca looked over her list. �
�Why don’t I write down all the ingredients we need so I can shop and have everything here when we start cooking?”
“No, we shop together. I’ll bring’a my cart. We go to the butcher, the cheese man, the vegetable stand, the bread man.”
“Oh, okay. When do you want to shop? The dinner is on Saturday.”
Aunt Rose took a bite of her roll. “Mmm. Wayne, it’sa so good. Grazi.” She patted his hand before continuing. “We shop on Thursday, cook and’a clean on Friday.”
Becca shook her head. “Rich and I will take care of the cleaning.”
“Richie? Clean?” She looked at Henry and Wayne. “If’a my Richie cleans, it’sa either love, or he’sa crazy.” Aunt Rose shrugged. “It could be both, eh?”
Wayne unsuccessfully covered his laugh with a cough and went into the kitchen, returning with a cup of coffee for Rose.
“Grazi.” She poured milk and stirred her coffee while looking around the crowded apartment. “You and my Annabelle. Such talent and so little—how you say? Confidence?” She nodded. “Si, confidence.”
Henry cleared his throat. “Well, it’s been lovely, ladies, but I’ve got to get back to work, and I know Wayne has a busy day ahead of him.”
Wayne nodded. “Just keep the rolls. I have plenty more upstairs.”
“Thanks, guys.” When Henry and Wayne reached for the dishes, Becca waved away their help. “I’ll take care of everything.” She stood and hugged them as she walked them to the door. “I’ll bring your tray up later.”
After the guys left, Becca sat next to Aunt Rose and smiled. “Why don’t you just cut to the chase? You came here for a reason. Say what you came to say and don’t pretend it has anything to do with the dinner party.”
Aunt Rose shook her finger at Becca, making Becca wonder if she should duck. She was half expecting to see a lightning bolt fly from Aunt Rose’s fingertips. “You too smart for your own good. You think’a too much. Life is simple. You find a man, you want the man, you marry the man, you learn to love him, and when he dies, you wear black. Simple.
“Aunt Rose, you don’t know—”
Rose held up her hand. “I know what I know. You make’a your lists. Those lists make’a you look for the wrong ting. You no look for the good. You look for the bad. That might work in business, but not in love. Love don’t make sense. It don’t fit into’a one of your pretty pictures. It’s confusing, it’sa messy, and if you fight it, you can lose it. Be careful. Listen to your Aunt Rose.” She took a sip of her coffee and watched Becca with intelligent eyes.
Becca had a feeling that Aunt Rose knew what she was going to say before she even said it. “You know everything?”
Rose wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I know Richie wants to marry you. I know you’re scared. I know you trust no one, not even yourself.”
“What do I do?”
“I just told you, but you don’t hear it. It’sa shame. You’re a good’a girl. Richie, he’s a good’a man with you. He loves you, but you don’t want to see that.” She patted Becca’s hand. “You gotta trust in Richie, or you’re gonna lose him.” She gathered the plates and took them into the kitchen as Becca sat stunned. Lose Rich? She wasn’t sure what she was feeling, but she didn’t like it. It was close to panic, but that was ridiculous. She just had too much caffeine. That’s why she broke out into a sweat; maybe she was coming down with something.
In the time she sat there, thinking, trying to make sense of what Aunt Rose said, Aunt Rose had cleaned the kitchen. She came back to the table and shook Becca’s shoulder. “I gotta go. I’ll see you on Thursday. Meet me at the butcher at nine. Richie can tell you where it is. We’ll shop.”
Becca forced herself out of the chair. “Oh, okay.” She helped Aunt Rose with her coat and accepted the hug and two kisses. “You and Richie, you’ll be okay in the end, but only you can choose which path to take—the hard path, or the easy path. Knowing you, it’sa gonna be the hard one. You gotta lot to learn about love.”
Chapter 16
WHEN RICH GOT HOME FROM WORK, BECCA HAD HER damn lists all over the place, and she’d rearranged everything so he couldn’t even find a place to charge his cell phone. He picked up the sculpture of the horse and her foal, trying to figure out where to move it so he could plug in his phone. When he turned to put the sculpture on the dining room table, he found Becca with her hands on her hips, glaring at him.
“Your aunt just happened to stop over today for coffee and a rest. I don’t suppose you called her?”
Becca was clearly agitated. He missed the warm homecoming he’d begun to get used to. “No, I thought you were going to call her. I guess you didn’t have to after all.”
She scrunched up her brow, and Rich got the definite feeling he was in trouble for something. He didn’t think he’d done anything awful, well, not lately, anyway.
“Why did you ask me to marry you?”
Okay, that came out of left field. Rich set his phone on the table forgotten. “What kind of question is that?”
“A good one. Men don’t just pop the question for no reason. What was yours?”
Rich approached her slowly and put his arms around her. She didn’t change her stance or lean into him like she always had before. Something was definitely wrong. “I love you. You love me. It seemed like the next logical step.”
“In what galaxy? People just don’t fall in love and get married for no reason.”
“Yes they do.”
She pushed away from him. “So that’s it? That’s all the explanation I’m going to get?”
“What were you expecting? I’ve got three months to live, and I want to spend every second of the rest of my life with you? I’m sorry to disappoint you, babe, but all I can say is that I love you. I don’t want to live my life without you even when you’re acting like a lunatic. How’s that for a reason? Does that pass whatever test it is you’re giving me?”
She wrapped her arms around herself. He’d like it a whole lot more if she wrapped her arms around him, but at least she didn’t look as angry. “I’m not giving you a test. I just want to know what the hell you were thinking.”
“I thought you wanted to table the marriage discussion.”
“I do, but it doesn’t mean I don’t think about it. Guys just don’t go play basketball, have a couple of drinks with their buddies, and on the way home suddenly decide to propose.”
“That’s exactly the way it happened. I don’t know what clown is giving you your information, babe, but I’ll tell you a little secret: I’m easy. What you see is what you get. I love you. I want to be with you. I want to marry you. If you’re looking for some deep-seated reason, or someone with a psyche that takes years to understand, you’ve got the wrong guy.” He expected her to say no, she had the right guy, but she didn’t. She just stood there with that weird look on her face and stared. “Have you been reading my psych textbooks? I know I botched the proposal big time, and I’m sorrier than you can imagine about that, but it’s not like I can take it back.” Lord knows, the way things were going he wished he could, so that next time he could do it right. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on.”
He let it drop, but he didn’t believe her, any more than she seemed to believe him, which gave a little nudge to his guilty conscience. He hadn’t told her about what the dean said, but that didn’t factor into his wanting to marry her. If anything, it would have been smarter for him to wait to propose, but far be it from him to do the smart thing.
As they fixed dinner together, he found her staring at him as if she was trying to read his thoughts. After the third time, he cornered her, trapping her between him and the counter. “Talk to me, Becca. I can’t help you if I don’t know what the hell is wrong.”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing is always something. We talked about this before.”
“Oh right, your pop-psychology email. When I say it’s nothing, I mean it’s nothing.”
“No,
you mean you don’t want to talk to me about it.”
“Fine, believe what you want.”
“Good, then I choose to believe that you’re madly in love with me and that eventually you’ll tell me that your life will never be complete without me in it, and you’ll ask me to marry you. I’m sure you’ll be much better at proposing. Just think, you can make a list, write out the pros and cons. You can plan the whole thing. Hell, knowing you, you’ll practice getting down on one knee with Tripod. At least he’ll give you an answer.”
“Yeah, don’t hold your breath.” Becca fought a smile, but when he kissed her, she finally kissed him back.
“I’m not holding my breath, but I’m looking forward to it. You think proposing is easy now. Just wait.”
Tripod obviously heard his name, strode into the kitchen, dropped the mechanized ferret at Rich’s feet, and let out a weird “rrupt.”
“What? You can’t catch a real rat so you bring me a toy one?”
“Wayne bought it for Tripod. He wants to share his ferret with you, so go ahead, wind it up. Just be careful, he gets even crazier than usual.”
“It seems to be the running theme in the house tonight.”
Saturday dawned clear and cold. It was one of those beautiful, late-fall days that made you want to reach for a rake and build a mountain of leaves just to jump into them and splash around. Unfortunately, Becca was stuck in the apartment with Tripod. Her phone rang, and she ran into the bedroom to get it. She checked the caller ID. “Hi, Annabelle. Have you heard from Ben? What did he think of the offer?”
“He liked it. There were a few things he wanted reworded, but basically, it sounds good. His lawyers are going to contact our lawyers, and you know, handle all the legalese. When he comes back next month, we’ll have a meeting and get down to figuring out our new roles in the partnership. I can’t wait! Becca, remember all those nights at art school when we would dream of having our own gallery?”
“Yeah, I dreamed it, but you’ve made it happen. Thanks for letting me hang on your coattails.”