“Wow,” Carmen said around her lingering sniffles. “That sounds delicious.” She held out her hand to Andi, who knew what she meant right away. She smiled and, instead of handing her the necklace, stepped behind her. Carmen lifted her hair, and Andi fastened the chain at the nape of her neck.
Carmen didn’t believe that stones had mystical qualities. But she believed in the power of love and friendship, and she felt better with the weight of the pretty stones on her collarbones.
Andi patted Carmen’s shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s go back and eat.”
They sat at the little round table in the back room and chatted while they ate, three women of an age, all with widely different backgrounds and personalities, but friends nonetheless. What they shared was respect and an openness of mind. Of the three, Carmen knew that she was the least giving of herself, the least open, the least…just, in general, the least. But they loved her anyway.
Their conversation, led by the gregarious Andi, was mainly about babies—Sabina’s preparation for the little boy they were adopting, who could come any time in the next couple of weeks, and Carmen’s impending motherhood, too, for which she had not prepared at all. She wasn’t in denial about the coming of her daughter, but she was, as yet, completely incapable of planning for the changes Teresa would bring her. Carmen needed to know what was right. No matter what it was, even if it hurt, she could do the right thing, as long as she could see it. But she didn’t know which choices were the right ones for Teresa, and not knowing had paralyzed her.
She was afraid, and she was hiding. She hated Theo for seeing that and throwing it in her face.
And she hated him for giving her an ultimatum. But at least ultimatums made for easy choices.
While they were nibbling at their chocolate silk pie, and discussing Trey’s enthusiasm for finally having other children in the family, Andi excused herself and went back to the storage room. Carmen watched her go, then turned to Sabina.
“What’s that about?”
Sabina shrugged and swallowed her dainty bite of meringue. “I don’t know. I will guess that she has a gift for you. She’s been excited about this lunch since she made the plan.”
Carmen put her hand over the stones at her throat. “She already gave me something.”
“It’s lovely. She feels strongly about her stones, yes? She asked me many questions when she was selecting them.”
“About me? Like what?” Carmen felt suddenly a little paranoid. She got enough of people talking about her behind her back in her family. She didn’t need it happening beyond that.
Sabina smiled and patted her hand. “Not prying questions, I think. I wouldn’t answer questions that pried.” She hesitated, and Carmen could see a question coming. “But I would like to ask, for myself—or maybe to say would be better—I would like to say that I’m here, to talk or to be with you, if you need that.”
Carmen’s eyes pricked again. Shit. She blinked and cleared away the urge to cry again. Sabina was the only one in her family who hadn’t spent the past week or so, since she’d gotten home from Maine, looking at her like she was some disappointing child. Carlo had even had the gall to say it was ‘typical’ of her to blow up a relationship. Asshole.
Well, Manny was okay with her, too. But Manny never got involved in family drama. She didn’t care how other people lived their lives, and she didn’t make judgments as long as she wasn’t directly affected. It was one of the ways her oddities made her great, in Carmen’s eyes. It easily balanced out her tendency to say what was on her mind, unfiltered by politeness or compassion.
“Thank you, Sabina. But I’m okay.”
Sabina didn’t seem convinced, but she nodded and didn’t push.
Andi came out of the storage room then with a flourish. “Ta-da!” She held two large, hand-woven Moses baskets, one in each hand. One was filled with pink, lavender, and yellow, and the other with blue, sage green, and pale orange. Each basket had a big, matching bow around the handles. “Forgive me for cleaving to gender stereotypes, but I just love little girls in pink and purple! Like little sherbets!” She brought the baskets to the table. Sabina pushed their plates of pie away, and Andi handed the pink basket to Carmen and the blue to Sabina. “I know you didn’t want a shower, Sabina, but I thought a little something like this would be okay.”
They went through their baskets. Blankets, booties, caps, onesies, a baby sling, stuffed bears—all of it hand-knitted, -crocheted, or -woven, and all of it gorgeous.
“My God, Andi,” Carmen said as she repacked her baby bonanza. “This is amazing.” She felt the knot in her throat, which lately never seemed to leave, tighten again, but she managed to hold back her tears this time. “Thank you.”
“Yes, Andi. So beautiful.” Sabina looked as stunned as Carmen felt. She had only recently begun to prepare for her baby’s arrival, and only because Carlo had started without her. Sabina still feared that the adoption would fall apart. But Carmen watched her rub over her cheek a soft blanket knitted from green and blue angora, her eyes closed, and could feel in her own heart the love Sabina already bore that little boy.
That thought made her tear up again. She swiped at her eyes. “Jesus, I hate hormones.” She took a breath and smiled at her friend. “Please tell me you didn’t also weave the baskets. Because that would just be annoyingly perfect.”
Andi laughed, a gentle, happy sound. “Oh, no. A friend made those. I know lots of artsy people.” With her hand on her hip, she sent Carmen a stern look. “And you are not getting out of having a baby shower, missy. This is just a preview. After the holidays, you are getting a bash. I can’t have you both cheat me out of organizing goofy games.”
Carmen shook her head. There was no way a baby shower was going to happen, but she’d let her friend have the fantasy for a while.
~oOo~
That night, Carlo and Sabina got a call. The mother of their baby boy was in labor, and they left in the middle of the night. The next morning, Christmas Eve, the rest of the family congregated at the house and waited to hear. Everyone but Rosa, again disconnected from a major family event, this time because she had gone to Maine to spend Christmas with Eli and his family—a last minute change from their original intention to spend it in Quiet Cove. Carmen tried not to think too hard about that.
Benjamin Charles Pagano was born before noon on Christmas Eve. Carlo and Sabina were home with him after dinner that evening. By then, he was already known by his many relatives as ‘Little Ben.’
Sabina came into the house carrying a tiny, blue bundle. She wended through the hallway crowded with uncles and grandparents jockeying for their first look and went to Trey first. She sat on the sofa with him, allowing him to hold his new baby brother. Carmen followed, feeling a stronger pull than she had expected. Like the baby inside her was already bonding to her new little cousin.
The whole family ultimately crowded into the living room to watch this Christmas Eve nativity scene. Trey looked down at Little Ben’s face, and wide brown eyes stared back. The baby was beautiful. He wore one of the beanies Andi had knitted. Trey patted it and asked, “Pop-Pop says gentlemen don’t wear hats inside.”
Sabina chuckled and pulled Little Ben’s beanie off, showing a light swirl of black hair. “Well, babies’ heads get cold faster than gentlemen’s heads, so that rule isn’t for them. But I think it’s warm enough here.”
Trey nodded and returned his attention to his brother. “Hi, Little Ben. I’m Trey. Misby says even if she didn’t get fat like Aunt Carmen, you’re my brother and she’s your mommy. Like she’s my mommy now, too. She said even if we weren’t in her tummy, we’re in her heart. So you can call her Misby if you want. But that’s a name I made up myself, so only people I say can call her that.” He looked up at Sabina, who had tears running freely down her face. His expression turned to worry. “Don’t cry, Misby. Little Ben can call you Mommy if you want.”
“No, Trey. I would be happy for him to call me Misby, too. I’m crying because I�
��m happy. I love my boys very much.”
Trey shook his head and turned back to his brother. “Misby says sometimes ladies cry when they’re happy. Ladies are silly.”
From the back of the room, Joey muttered, plenty loud for all to hear, “Got that right.” Everybody laughed, which startled the baby, and he began to cry, showing healthy, strong lungs.
“Little Ben! You’re too loud!” Trey shouted and let go of his brother to cover his ears. With the speedy reflexes of a brand-new mother, Sabina caught the baby before he had barely bobbled on Trey’s lap, and she put him to her shoulder.
An odd sensation thrummed in Carmen’s body, like an electric charge or a magnetic pull. She felt it in her belly, her breasts, everywhere. Her heart most of all. She actually had to tamp down the urge to simply take Little Ben from Sabina’s arms.
There must have been something in her eyes or her posture, because when Sabina turned to her, she cocked her head a little and smiled. “Would you like to hold him?”
Speech deserted her, so Carmen simply nodded and took the baby. It was hardly the first time she’d ever held an infant in her arms. But somehow, it was like nothing she’d felt before. Hormones—it had to be hormones. She looked down into that tiny, perfect face. Little Ben yawned and put his fingers on his face, the gesture of a world-weary old man. Carmen laughed; everybody laughed—but quietly this time. Then Teresa kicked, and, yet again, Carmen burst into tears.
~oOo~
While the family was still taking turns holding the newest addition, Carmen went up to the room she and Rosa had shared. She’d sleep here tonight. No use going even the mile to her own house when she’d just be back here first thing in the morning.
She took her phone out of her bag and scrolled to Theo’s number. For a few seconds, her thumb hovered. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted to say—or what she wanted, period. Except to hear his voice. It was Christmas Eve. There was at least one thing to say. She tapped his name and put the phone to her ear.
It rang through to voice mail. She didn’t want to leave a message, so she ended the call. But before she could set her phone down, he called her.
She answered. “Hi.”
“Carmen. Are you okay? The baby?” An edge of worry sharpened his voice.
“Yes. We’re fine.”
“Oh. Good.” A pause. “Why did you call, then?”
Something about the question hurt her feelings, but she couldn’t see what. Maybe the assumption that she wouldn’t call otherwise, that she needed a specific reason, a problem, to call? But that was her fault. She’d left him. And then she’d made good on her promise to have her lawyer contact him to work out visitation. Because she was a bitch.
She hesitated, not knowing what to say. Into her silence, Theo said, “Carmen, we’re in the middle of something here. If you’re okay, then…”
“I wanted to hear your voice.” Fuck! Why had she said that? It was true, but it was wrong.
He responded to it with silence.
She didn’t speak, either.
Finally, weariness heavy in his voice, he asked, “What does that mean, Carmen?”
She didn’t know. “I don’t know.”
“Have you changed your mind?”
She would not be forced into someone else’s choice. That ultimatum, having the choice laid out for her so starkly, had made her incapable of even considering its merits. She would not be forced. “Have you?”
“No.”
There it was, then. The end. “Okay. I guess…okay. Merry Christmas, then.”
“Be well, Carmen.” He ended the call.
~oOo~
Carlo and Sabina stayed home from Midnight Mass with their sons, but everyone else went to Christ the King. They met the Uncles and aunts and Nick there, as usual. The Uncles had come to some kind of détente in their war, Carmen supposed; they hadn’t had bodyguards for a while now. Things were back to normal, and even moving forward again.
Uncle Ben was thrilled to learn of the new baby and honored that he’d been named for him. The Uncles and their wives planned to come over on Christmas Day to meet the little one.
After Mass, all the siblings went back to the house and stayed the night. Once Trey was asleep, the annual gift shift got underway, with brightly wrapped boxes materializing from the cellar, the attic, next door, various car trunks and back seats. And then, finally, everyone went to bed.
As depressed as she was, Carmen found some comfort in the full feel of this house she loved, which held everything about her life that was worthwhile. For good or ill, this was her life. Here, in Quiet Cove. Nowhere else. That had to be true. What she knew about herself and her life fell apart without the roots that had grown into the foundation of this house.
But even lying in her childhood bed, surrounded by her whole family, on Christmas Eve, Carmen felt hollow. She lay staring up at the ceiling, knowing she wouldn’t sleep, playing over and over that call to Theo. Hearing Rosa, Eli, and Jordan talking and laughing in the background. Theo’s detached, fed-up tone. His monosyllabic response when she’d asked if he’d changed his mind. “No.” Like the end of them wasn’t worth more energy than those two letters.
Little Ben began to cry, and then the floorboards creaked as somebody went to collect him. Carmen got up and slid her arms into her robe. She wanted to see the little guy again.
She found him with his father, sitting in the living room, feeding him a bottle. Carlo looked up when she came into the room. “Hey, Caramel. Can’t sleep?”
“No.” Carlo was in their father’s big leather chair. Carmen sat on the floor at his feet.
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Are you going to be able to get up from there?”
“Smartass. Yes. I’m not that far gone yet.”
They were quiet for a while, watching the baby. Without taking his eyes from his new son, Carlo said, “Can we talk about what’s going on with you?”
Carmen regretted coming down. “Nothing to say. It didn’t work out.”
“But you love him.” He didn’t ask, he stated. Because he knew it was true.
“Doesn’t matter. It’s not enough. He wants me to give everything up and move to Maine. I can’t do that.”
“I love you, Carm. I love you so much. But you worry me. You used to follow your heart. Now I’m not sure you even know where it is.”
His words hurt, and she flinched as if he’d slapped her. “Jesus, Carlo. Why would you say something like that?”
“I don’t mean you’re heartless, sis. Not even close. I mean you’re lost. You put yourself aside so often that you’ve forgotten where you left you. That wild girl you used to be. The one who used to stand up in Tony Napoli’s CJ-5 while he flew down the highway, your arms over your head and your hair flying behind you like a flag. Remember her? She was awesome.”
“And what am I now? Worthless?”
The baby fussed, and Carlo set the empty bottle aside and put his new son on his shoulder. “No! You’re unhappy. You’ve been unhappy for years. You made a good life, but you made it out of other people’s leavings. What do you want? You don’t have to take care of the family anymore. You could let somebody take care of you. That would be okay.”
“I need to stay here, Carlo. With the family. It’s what I know will be here always. That’s what Teresa needs.”
“Is it what you need? Is it what you want?”
Now Carmen was definitely regretting coming down. She swallowed down that blasted lump in her throat. How could she know what she needed? And what she wanted? When had that fucking mattered? “Carlo, stop. I made my choice. It’s the right one. I know it. It has to be.”
They stared at each other while Carlo patted Little Ben’s back. Finally, he nodded. “Okay. You’re right about one thing, at least. We’re here. We’re always here.”
“I know. That’s how I know I’m right. About all of it.”
She stood and went back upstairs, leaving Carlo alone with his new son. Curled again under her
old, sunny yellow quilt, Carmen wrapped her hand around the necklace Andi had made her, full of nurturing stones. Like jasper.
Here, her home, was right. It had to be.
~ 20 ~
The new year started cold and thick with snow. Eli had helped Theo put the plow on the lawnmower while he and Rosa were in for Christmas, and it was getting regular use. Theo and Jordan spent the first two weeks of January quietly, mainly in the house. Theo worked on refreshing his syllabi and getting his courses ready for the spring semester and got a new home improvement project started, keeping busy, trying to keep his mind off of Carmen, and trying not to think about booze. He had dumped everything that had been in the house, and at least the snow had the significant effect of making it too much trouble to go out for more. When he felt the need to drink, he went outside and chopped wood or plowed the drive or just walked in the woods until it passed.
Rooted (The Pagano Family Book 3) Page 25