“That’s a relief,” said Lily, taking the money. “Joe! What happened to your hand?” Lily asked. “Your fingernail is black!”
“Oh, nothin’. I was helping a customer load an ottoman into his car - a red Caravan - and I slammed my thumb in the sliding door, if you can believe that.”
“Let me see,” said Lily, grabbing his hand.
“Ow!” cried Joe, pulling his hand back. “Son of a bitch – Lil, didn’t I just tell you that I slammed it in the door? Why are you poking at it?”
“Sorry…”
“Daddy!” Joseph softly cried, stretching his arms up toward his father.
“Hi, son,” said Joe, lifting Joseph off the couch and taking him into his arms. “How would you like Daddy to build a fire?”
“Yes! Can I light the match, Daddy?”
“I don’t know - were you a good boy today? Mommy,” Joe said, looking at Lily, “Was he a good boy today?”
“Oh, yes, he was very good. He helped me make cookies all afternoon.”
Joseph beamed. “Mommy, can Daddy have some of our cookies?”
“Absolutely,” said Lily. “In fact, while you men are building the fire, I’ll go make us all some hot chocolate. How does that sound?”
“With little marshmallows?” asked Joseph.
“Is there any other way to have hot chocolate?” Lily kissed him on the nose, kissed Joe on the lips, and went into the kitchen.
Lily placed three white ceramic mugs on a silver tray, along with a plate of assorted cookies, and brought them into the family room. She, Joseph and Joe sat on the rug in front of the hearth, dunking cookies, sipping hot chocolate, talking about who made which cookie, what Santa was going to bring, and how in the world he was going to fit down the narrow stove pipe. The fire raged in the wood stove, as an autumn storm sprayed the aluminum siding with the shrapnel of icy rain.
“Are you coming up?” Joe stood at the top of the stairway in his boxer shorts.
Lily walked to the bottom of the stairs. Putting her index finger to her lips, she said, “Shhh… I’ll be up in a few minutes. I’m just cleaning up.”
“Don’t be long,” said Joe, reaching down to adjust his erection.
Lily made her final rounds through the house, rinsing out dishes, picking up toys, stalling. She did want another baby, but sex at the end of a long day of housework and church work and chasing Joseph around was always a challenge; she would need to take a few minutes to get into the right frame of mind first.
Whenever Lily was tempted to try and avoid sex - which she often was when she wasn’t ovulating - she would hear Bethany quoting one of her favorite Bible verses: “‘The wife's body does not belong to her alone but also to her husband.’ Now ladies,” Bethany would add, “God gave men powerful urges, and of course we do have our free will to refuse - as long as we’re willing to take the chance that they may take their needs elsewhere.”
Sometimes Lily fantasized that Joe would have an affair and that she would catch him - maybe she would discover a charge on the credit card statement for one of those motels where people were known to sneak off to meet their lovers. Infidelity was one of the few conditions under which marital separation was tolerated according to Pastor Halloway. Lily thought how about much easier life would be if all she had to worry about was taking care of herself and Joseph. She could get a job at one of the schools so she and Joseph would have the same schedule once he started school. Or maybe she could even go back to SaveMart part time. She and Joseph could get a little apartment, one that was easier to keep clean than the house, and on the weekends Joe could pick Joseph up and Lily could have an entire day to herself - sleep late, take long walks, maybe even go on a date, assuming anyone would be interested. But that would only happen if Joe cheated, and she was pretty sure he was splitting most of his time and money between the track and his bookie. He barely had enough for one woman, let alone two.
Even if Joe was unfaithful, and even if Lily did catch him, Pastor Halloway said that all attempts at reconciliation would have to be made. She’d eventually end up right back here, for sure. The only real way out would be if Joe died, like if he was speeding home from the track at eighty miles per hour, and hit a guardrail, and was thrown through the windshield, being killed instantly, or if all the stress of the gambling finally got to him and he had a heart attack at work, the ambulance failing to get him to the hospital in time. Then there would be no chance of reconciliation - and no one would be able to blame Lily. They would all run to her side in sympathy, bring her casseroles, give her money to help with expenses, and then after a year or so, they would introduce her to their attractive bachelor friends, and then maybe she could start over. Yes, it would be much better to be a widow than it would be to get cheated on. That would be the only real way out.
Lily raised her hands to cover her face and shook her head as if to banish the thoughts that seemed to visit her with increasing frequency, despite the self-recrimination that always dragged along behind them, and that would unfailingly launch her into a guilt-ridden act of servitude toward Joe, serving as admission of and penance for her shame before self and God.
Anyway, life was good these days. Thanks to the advice and support of the women at PTW, Lily had learned to avoid arguing, accept Joe for who he was, and work with their finances. It had been a relief to learn the value of true submission and to surrender the notion that she could change him. With a little creativity, she had been able to make it work. Instead of taking Joe’s clothes to the cleaners, she laundered, ironed, and starched them all herself; it only took a couple hours a few times a week. She learned to mow, trim, edge, and fertilize the lawn so they could get rid of their landscaping service in the summer, and in the winter, shoveling snow from the driveway was great exercise. Why hire some guy to come by with his pick-up truck? They never came when you really needed them anyway. Also, homemade items such as bread were a fraction of the cost of store-bought, and since Lily was home all day most of the time, baking was no problem. Homemade tasted better, too, and Lily took comfort in the sweet warmth of cookies, breads, and pastries fresh from the oven. She still had time for church on Sundays, PTW on Tuesdays, and even the occasional coffee visit with Donna. On Saturdays - if she could get Joseph nice and tired out during the day and get him into bed early - she could have a few hours to herself to indulge in a quiet dish of fudge stripe ice cream with chocolate sauce and an uninterrupted movie on HBO while Joe was at the track. By the time he came home, she would be ready for him - ready to console him sexually if he lost and to satisfy him sexually if he won. It had taken years to figure it out, but Lily was proud to say that there was peace in her house. She could tolerate living this way for a long time.
As Lily pulled the living room curtains closed, she noticed the stillness of the neighborhood. Cars tucked away in garages, lamp posts lit, casting a yellow glow onto the puddles formed by the icy rain. There was no laughing, no children shouting, no music blaring, no mail trucks or school buses grinding and chugging along - all of the sights and sounds that gave this place life were suspended, as if the world were holding its breath. She found that she was holding hers at the thought.
“Hey Lil, are you coming up, or what?”
“On my way,” said Lily, doing her best to inject a dose of enthusiasm into her voice. Fake it ‘til you make it, that’s what Bethany always says.
The following summer, Lily became pregnant with her second child.
“Pierce?” Joe repeated when Lily proposed the name. “Where the hell did you come up with that?”
“From the book of baby names,” said Lily. “It means ‘rock.’ I want our baby to grow to be strong and solid.”
“I thought you said you think it’s a girl.”
“I do. Pierce is unisex. Whether it’s a girl or a boy, I want Pierce.”
“It’s weird. My family is going to make fun of it.”
“Too bad,” said Lily, becoming agitated at the prospect that he may argue the
point further, and she would be forced to drop it. “You know, Joe, you got to name the first child. And we all have to live with ‘Diotallevi,’ which is also weird. I’d like to say my last name just once without having to spell it. It’s weird, and it’s a burden.”
“OK, OK, calm down,” Joe said with a chuckle. “Pierce it is. Might be kinda cool. Pierce Joseph Diotallevi.”
“Really? Pierce Joseph?”
“Yeah - PJ for short.”
Lily conceded, based mostly on her certainty that the child inside was a girl. According to the old wives’ tale, baby girls steal their mother’s beauty, and Lily had felt drained of hers practically at the day of conception. Her hair immediately began to thin, and she developed acne and swelling of the feet. The baby would be Pierce Elizabeth, after her mother - a fine, dignified, and unique name.
At one-eleven on a stormy April afternoon, Pierce Joseph Diotallevi was born, his Aunt Violet in attendance in the delivery room, and his daddy and big brother Joseph in the waiting area. His coloring at birth was not unlike Joseph’s – a promise of dark hair and an olive complexion, but with a hint of green in his eyes. From the moment of his birth, however, it was clear to see that he would carry something of Lily’s as she bent over and placed a kiss on the tip of his finely chiseled Whitacre nose.
Lily’s labor was short, and Pierce was a joy. He never cried unless he was in discomfort from being hungry or wet, and he started sleeping through the night by the time he was five weeks old.
As the spring passed, Lily did what she could to settle into a routine at home, although Joseph didn’t make it easy. He would beg to hug his baby brother, and then would pinch him or pull his hair so that Pierce would cry and Lily would have to pry him out of Joseph’s arms. He liked to sneak into Pierce’s room when he was sleeping, get under the crib and jostle the mattress until Pierce woke up and then pop out and shout “Boo!” launching Pierce into a terrified fit of screaming.
One afternoon, Lily set Pierce in his infant carrier on the kitchen table so she could fold laundry and get dinner started. She turned her back to answer the phone and when she turned around again, she discovered Joseph sliding the carrier toward the edge of the table.
“Joseph!” cried Lily, snatching the carrier from the table. “That is very dangerous! You could seriously hurt your baby brother like that. Do you want him to go to the hospital?”
“Yes, I do,” said Joseph, folding his arms across his chest.
“But why?” said Lily. She pulled Pierce up out of carrier. “He’s such a nice baby brother.” She turned Pierce around to face Joseph. “Just look at how cute he is,” Lily said. “Why do you want him to go to the hospital?”
“I want you to take him back. He’s stupid,” said Joseph. “I wish he was a dog instead.”
After telling Joe the story that night after dinner, Lily said, “We have to do something, Joe. In addition to the extra laundry, meal preparation, and keeping my eyes on him constantly, I am really struggling; I’m just exhausted.”
“He’ll be in school in a couple months,” said Joe.
“I can’t last that long,” said Lily. “I might not make it to the end of this week. I need you to be around a little more. I need some help.”
“Lil, you know I have to take all the hours I can get at the store now.”
“But you’re not even at the store half the time when I call, Joe. I called you two hours ago to ask you to bring home diapers and cigarettes and you were already gone. If you weren’t at work, you should have been here so I could have a break.”
“What would you be doing if you had three boys, like my mother? Or twelve kids like your mother did? Do you think they called their husbands at work crying because they couldn’t handle being a housewife? Goddamn it, Lil - it’s not rocket science.” Joe wiped his mouth with a white paper napkin, balled it up and threw it down onto the plate. “And after working a twelve-hour day, I don’t need to hear about how hard it is for you to stay home all day.” Joe pushed his chair back, got up from the table, and went down into the family room.
The next afternoon, Joe came home unexpectedly from work. He poked his head in the front door, and said, “Anybody home? I’ve got a surprise!”
“Daddy, Daddy!” cried Joseph, running to greet his father at the door. Lily followed, with Pierce in her arms.
“Are you ready for a surprise?”
“Yes Daddy – I’m ready!”
“Here it is!” Joe stepped through the door, revealing a chestnut red puppy with a curly tail, which he held in his hands.
“A puppy!” squealed Joseph.
Joe set the puppy down on the ground. It ran in circles around the living room, with Joseph following, trying to catch up enough to grab it.
Pierce wriggled and bounced with delight at the sight.
“You bought a dog?” said Lily. “Without even checking with me?”
“I was thinking about what you said last night,” said Joe. “And I figured if he had a puppy to distract him he wouldn’t be after Pierce all the time. You said he wished for a dog.”
“But Joe, dogs are a lot of work, and I will be the one who has to clean up after it. I can barely keep up with things as they are.”
“Jesus, Lil - can’t I do anything right? You asked me to help out, so I spend a fortune on this dog to help keep Joseph out of your hair,” said Joe, “And you’re still not happy. Anyway, with the hours I work, I’ll feel better knowing there’s a watchdog in the house. This guy at work has been trying to get rid of his dog’s litter, so I figured it was meant to be. He said it was a purebred,” said Joe. “A Basenji.”
“That’s a Basenji?” asked Lily. “Did this guy tell you anything about Basenjis?”
“Yeah,” said Joe. “He said they were great family dogs and very gentle with the kids. Why?”
“Did he also happen to tell you that they don’t bark?”
“It don’t bark? You’ve gotta be shittin’ me!” said Joe. “Then never mind, I’m taking it back and get a different kind.”
“I don’t think so,” said Lily, gesturing toward Joseph. They both laughed in spite of themselves as they watched Joseph rolling around on the floor, the puppy jumping on him and lavishing his face with long wet kisses.
“Looks like he’s our dog now,” said Lily, with a sigh. Maybe Joe was right. Giving Joseph something else to do, something of his own to care for wasn’t the worst idea in the world. Anyway, what was one more task for the list?
“Joseph, what do you want to name the puppy?”
Joseph sat up, the puppy still bounding all around him. “He’s just like I wished,” he said. “I want to call him ‘Wishes.’”
“Wishes it is,” said Lily, as the puppy pounced at Joseph, knocking him over with a flurry of giggles.
Having the puppy distracted Joseph for the first few weeks, but as the summer wore on, his behavior again became erratic, with Wishes sometimes becoming the object of his antics, as he pulled her tail, or dressed her up like Superman, or spanked her too harshly when she nipped at him in self-defense. Wishes in turn acted out by urinating on the carpet and chewing on furniture, shoes, and anything else she might be able to get her jaw around.
September couldn’t come fast enough for Lily, but Joseph’s first day of kindergarten was a traumatic event for everyone - for Lily, for Joseph, undoubtedly for the other students, and for Mrs. Cameron the teacher.
“Mommy, don’t go! Mommy, come back! Don’t leave me!” Joseph screamed when Lily dropped him off.
Lily walked out to the parking lot, fighting back tears, her own repressed screams urging her to go back, pick him up in her arms and take him home with her. She willed herself to drive away without looking in the rear view mirror.
Lily sobbed all the way home, partly from embarrassment, partly from the bittersweet sorrow of her firstborn beginning school. Even though she had been anxious to get him out of the house and desperately needed the break, her heart wrenched at the image of Jos
eph plastered up against the picture window, screaming and crying for his salvation. Reports from the teacher that first day included stories of biting, pushing, and throwing toys.
“Just give it some time,” Donna told her. “Nikki did the same thing to me when she started school. In a month, he’ll be completely acclimated.”
The morning routine of dropping Joseph off at school continued to be marked with tears and angst. The week before Thanksgiving, Mrs. Cameron sent a note home with Joseph, asking Lily to stop in and see her the next day.
Lily sat on the edge of the bed, attempting to wriggle out of her jeans, a process similar to that of wriggling into them, which she had engaged in that morning, except that taking them off meant that she could finally breathe again. She had delayed buying new jeans both because it was an expense she wanted to avoid and because she’d hoped to fit back into the ones she already owned. She’d been embarrassed to continue wearing her maternity pants, but free time was still at a premium; she still hadn’t even had time to work a daily walk into her routine. She did finally make it back to PTW, determining that her spiritual health took priority over losing weight. She hoped it wasn’t sacrilegious to pray for help in zipping up her fly.
“Joseph’s teacher wants to see me tomorrow during her lunch hour.”
“What about?” Joe pointed the remote control at the TV and clicked on a hockey game.
“Well, he got off to a rough start there at the beginning, but I thought he was doing better now.” Lily pulled on her pink flannel pajama tops, and reached back to pull her hair out from under the collar. “Don’t you remember? I told you how he was lashing out at the other kids.”
“We can’t help it if that teacher is bad at her job,” said Joe. “What is she blaming you for?”
“It just makes me nervous,” said Lily. “Like when the nuns used to ask us to stay after school. It was never for a talk about how wonderful we were.”
The next day, Lily greeted Mrs. Cameron with a warm smile.
“Please, have a seat, Mrs. Diotallevi.” Mrs. Cameron gestured toward a tiny table surrounded by tiny chairs. Lily balanced half of her derriere on one, saying a quick prayer that she would not lose her balance.
[Iris and Lily 01.0 - 03.0] The Complete Series Page 86