by Allie Ritch
He leaned down to give me a kiss. “I love you too. So are you more relaxed now?”
I choked out a laugh. So this was my dear husband’s idea of therapy? Actually, it was pretty effective.
“I am until the endorphins wear off,” I admitted. “Let’s go clean up before my parents get here and I enter panic mode again.”
He tucked his flagging shaft back into his boxers before he took my hand to lead me upstairs.
“This is the second time I’ve made love in the kitchen this week,” I pointed out once we reached the shower. “Have you guys been watching some kind of food porn or something?”
Chuck smiled. “Food porn? No, but now that you mention it, that sounds like fun. Want to put on a bikini and wrestle in some creamed corn?”
“Ew.” I threw the washcloth at him and hurried to rinse off.
I hopped out before he did and headed for the closet once I was dry. After a brief deliberation, I went with a casual skirt and blouse and slipped on a pair of sandals. I also made sure to lay out khaki pants and a nice shirt for Chuck so he wouldn’t wear his work clothes or a T-shirt with stains.
The oven dinged as I walked back into the kitchen downstairs. I pulled the cake out and was pleased with how beautiful it looked. So far, at least, everything was going well.
Chuck joined me and was put to work doing a final dusting around the house before he set the table. We were about finished when I witnessed a first: Chad and Charles walking through the door together. Although I hadn’t doubted Charles’s promise for a minute, I was still overcome with joy at the sight of him home on time. I threw my arms around both him and Chad before giving each of them a kiss.
“You have no idea how happy you’ve made me,” I told my workaholic husband.
“Good. I like to see you happy.” Charles flicked my cheek with his finger. “Now we just have to schmooze your parents over dinner, and maybe later tonight I’ll make you even happier.”
He was incorrigible.
“Did you pick up all the ingredients I asked for?” Chad asked.
I turned to him with a haughty tilt of my chin. “Yes. Yours truly remembered to check her messages today, and I got everything on your list. The cake is cooling, Chuck set the table and prepared the guest bedroom, and the house is clean.”
“Got the lawn done too,” Chuck added proudly.
“Good job.” I wasn’t sure whether Chad was addressing me or the lawn man. “I’ll get dinner started as soon as—”
The chime of the doorbell interrupted him. As one, we turned to face the door.
Chapter Eight
We all froze for a moment. Then Charles, always the most take-charge person, stepped forward and opened the door. There on the other side stood my mother, looking as cold and intimidating as the most merciless soldier despite the pretty black-and-white floral print of her blouse.
Charles offered her a smile. “You must be Mrs. Leonard. Please come in.”
He kept his expression pleasant as he stepped back to let my mom inside, but he fussed with smoothing his tie. It was a rare nervous gesture for him—one that let me know he was as anxious about this meeting as the rest of us. For some strange reason, that actually made me feel better.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” he told my mother. “We spoke briefly on the phone once. I’m Charles, by the way.”
My mom scanned him from head to toe, not bothering to hide the fact that she was scrutinizing him. Since she appreciated nice clothes, I had no doubt she approved of his smart business suit. The fact that he was obviously a good provider would also be in his favor. What remained to be determined was whether she approved of Charles himself.
Her expression remained unreadable as she shook his hand. “Minnie Leonard.”
It was a disarming nickname. There was nothing “mini” about my mother, not in body or personality. Her full name was Minerva.
“Hi, Mom.” I laid my hand on Charles’s back as I leaned in to give her a kiss hello. “I hope you and Dad had a good trip. I’d like you to meet my other husbands. This is Chuck and Chad.” I indicated each in turn.
“Hi.” Chuck gave her a quick handshake.
Chad clasped her hand between his and graced her with his most winning smile. “Delighted. Welcome to our home, Mrs. Leonard. Or do you prefer Minnie?”
“Minnie is fine.” My mother’s gaze bounced from one of my men to the other. “So you’re the man…men my daughter married. Genetically identical, she tells me. You certainly look it. Does that make you triplets?”
“Not exactly,” Charles answered.
“More like multiple personalities.” Chad delivered the wisecrack with his usual aplomb, but our responding laughter sounded strained.
When she didn’t say anything else, the tension built.
I was the first to break it. “So where’s Dad?”
“Your father is getting the luggage out of the car. He’ll be here in a minute.”
“You should have told me. I’ll go help him with that.” Chuck walked around my mother, who still stood just inside the doorway. He disappeared outside, where I could hear him talking to my father.
“I’m not sure what I think of all this, Filomena.” My mom didn’t mince words. “Going to a matchmaking service, living with three men, lying about it. That isn’t how we did things in my day. Sometimes I regret naming you after my mother. You seem intent on following her example.”
Only years of practice allowed me to swallow my sigh. I loved and admired my mother for her strength of character, but there was a reason I’d moved across the country from her.
“Well, you have the whole weekend to get to know us and figure out how you feel.” I forced a note of optimism into my tone that I wasn’t sure I felt. “As for Genetic Harmony, I couldn’t be happier with the results. Chuck, Chad, and Charles are the best things to ever happen to me, and I don’t regret a minute with them. What I do regret, very much, is lying about them. I’m sorry about that, Mom. I knew it was going to be a shock for you, but I should have told you from the start.”
Beside me, Chad rubbed my back in silent support. If I’d left him with any lingering doubts about my commitment to him and my other husbands, I knew I’d just removed them.
My direct approach appeared to catch my mother off guard. “Well, it’s done now.” She glanced around. “This looks like a nice house. Larger than I would have expected.”
“Would you like a tour?” Charles asked.
“Something to drink first?” Chad glanced at my other husband. “Charles, I forgot the wine in the car. We picked up a few varieties to stock the wine rack.” He rattled off the labels to my mother. “The whites are on ice, so they’re already chilled. May I offer you a glass?”
“Thank you…uh…”
“Chad.” I supplied the name when I realized she was struggling.
Mom gave me a quick nod. “Thank you, Chad. Whichever one you decide to open will be fine.”
“I’ll go get it,” Charles offered. “You go ahead and start dinner, Chad. I’ll take care of the drinks.”
“And I can give you the tour.” At the moment, I just wanted out of the foyer. “You’re going to love the house, Mom. It still needs some work, but Chuck is doing all the renovations himself, and so far he’s done a beautiful job.”
“There she is!” My father filled the doorway, arms open for me. “There’s my girl.”
“Dad!” I hurried over to accept his big bear hug.
My father wasn’t much taller than I was, which meant I could rest my chin on his shoulder if I cocked my head back. His blond hair had turned silver some years ago, but his blue eyes were as clear as ever. I got my coloring from him. My mother was naturally brown-eyed and brunette, though she currently sported dark blonde hair thanks to her last salon trip. Dad was a beefy man, all muscle with a bit of an aging paunch, and his arms around me were surprisingly strong for a man his age.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I told him.
> He ended the embrace with a gruff pat on the back I’d come to expect from him. “I feel like I’m at a hotel. Chuck insisted on carrying all the bags.”
“No problem,” Chuck said behind him. “We’ve got one of the guest rooms all ready for you, so I’ll run these up there, and then I’ll get you that beer, Art.”
I watched as my husband, loaded with what had to be a dozen small duffels and train cases, walked past us to climb the stairs. Eleven of those bags no doubt belonged to my mother. Since she and my father didn’t travel much, she refused to spend money on a larger piece of luggage.
“Whoa there.” My dad gaped at Charles and Chad. “They’re like clones.”
“Except we’re original. Nice to meet you, Art. I’m Charles.” My goateed husband offered his hand and waited until my father slowly took it. “And this is Chad.”
“A pleasure.” Chad was next in line. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get dinner started.”
“Sure thing.” Dad continued to stare.
“Close your mouth,” my mom told him. “You knew they were identical. I showed you their wedding photo and explained it to you in the car.”
“Yes, dear, but it’s still a hell of a thing.” My father, by far the more easygoing of the two of them, never seemed upset by my mother’s picking.
Charles looked much more at ease with my male parent. “I believe Fila was about to give you the tour. If you want to go with her and do that first, we’ll have the drinks ready for you by the time you’re through.”
“Uh-huh.” My father didn’t take his gaze off Charles until I stepped forward.
“Come on.” I waved my parents forward. “Wait until you see this place, Dad. I was just telling Mom that Chuck has been doing the work to whip this house into a real showpiece. When we first bought it…”
I continued my spiel as I finally got them moving. We started downstairs and worked our way up. Whatever else they might have thought about my living arrangements, they were definitely impressed with the house—score one for Chuck, though neither of them commented on the lawn. My father did enough fixer-upper projects at home that I knew he’d enjoy talking to my handy husband about tools and craftsmanship and the like.
By the time we finished the tour and returned downstairs, Charles had a glass of red wine ready for my mom, and Chuck tossed Dad a beer. I decided I could use a drink myself and was grateful when my husband handed me a full wineglass.
Chad was busy in the kitchen, and the aromas wafting out of there were already amazing.
“That smells delicious,” my mom announced. “I’ll go see if he needs a hand.”
“I’m sure he’s got it under—”
Too late. She’d already disappeared toward the kitchen, where I knew she’d backseat cook. I hoped Chad could handle her.
The rest of us sat down in the living room. For all that he was more laid-back, my father was protective of me. I could tell he was sizing Charles up in his own subtle way.
“So, what is it you do, Charles?” Dad asked. “It is Charles, right?”
“That’s right.” My husband returned an easy grin. “I work at the home office of the HG&S Corporation, which deals in national and international manufacturing and trade.”
I listened as my husband launched into a description of his job with the same passion Chad reserved for art or literature. The truth was I didn’t fully understand what Charles did. He wasn’t involved in the production end of the business, but he had something to do with contracts, finance, and distribution.
My father, a retired businessman himself, seemed to have a better grasp of my hubby’s profession. He asked some intelligent questions, which Charles answered with ease before throwing in some anecdotes that had my dad chuckling in no time. Charles was in full schmooze mode now, and he was good at it. He radiated charm and control—something I was sure he did when he was in the zone at work.
“I hope you won’t be offended,” Charles finished, “but I have an appointment tomorrow morning. I’m playing golf with one of our big distributors, and I’m hoping to win him over.”
“You play golf?” My dad’s whole face lit up.
“Yes. You?”
“You bet I do.”
“Golf is one of Dad’s favorite sports,” I explained. “He’d be out there on the green every day if Mom let him.”
Charles stretched his arms out along the back of the couch. “Why don’t you come with me tomorrow, Art? Maybe you can help me sweet-talk this guy. His partner will be there, plus a couple of guys from the office, so I’m sure I can talk them into adding another player.”
I was surprised Charles made the offer. He’d never even asked me or Chuck or Chad to join him out on the golf course. Then again, none of us actually played golf.
“I don’t have my clubs with me,” Dad pointed out, but I could tell he wanted to say yes.
Charles waved away his concern. “We can find you some. That is, if you’re interested. All I ask is you don’t beat our distributor too badly. It wouldn’t be good for business.”
My father threw back his head and laughed before reaching out to shake Charles’s hand. “You got it. I’ll treat it more like a fishing trip. Got to reel in the big one.”
“Exactly.”
“So whom do you like for the PGA Championship this year?” Chuck asked, turning the conversation to sports.
I took that as my cue to slip away. Since my mother hadn’t returned from the kitchen yet, I figured I’d better get in there to rescue Chad.
Sure enough, she’d taken over, though not as badly as I’d feared. Somehow my husband had relegated her to salad duty while he stuffed the manicotti shells. He looked happy, not browbeaten.
“Your mother just gave me a recipe for homemade ricotta,” he announced. “I’ll have to try it. The ricotta you picked up is fresh, but you can’t beat homemade.”
“Sounds complicated.” I hadn’t realized you could make cheese at home without a cow.
“Not as complicated as you might think,” he assured me. “Ricotta isn’t technically a cheese. It’s a dairy product made from whey. All you need is some whole milk and something for acid, like vinegar or buttermilk.”
“Fila was never interested in cooking.” My mother made this announcement as she finished dicing some tomato and threw it into the salad bowl. “I had to drag her into the kitchen when she was a girl to teach her how to make a proper meal.”
I reached for the wine bottle to top off my glass. “That’s because I wanted to go out and play with my friends instead. You insisted I get all my homework done first, which usually took me until just before dinnertime.”
“Well, those lessons must have paid off, Minnie. Your daughter is a terrific cook now.” Chad paused long enough to kiss my cheek. “What about your other children?”
I answered for her. “Oh, my brothers and sister were expected to learn too. Mom believes in equal opportunity.”
“All my children were taught to be self-sufficient,” my mother announced with pride. “No adult should wander around like a helpless pet waiting to be fed. They know how to make a meal for themselves.”
I almost gushed red wine through my nose. Helpless pet? Not a flattering description, especially since, by her definition, that label could apply to Charles, Chuck, and my father. Charles could only reheat or order in, and Chuck was the same except he could grill and barbecue. As for my dad, he was so lost in the kitchen he could barely find the milk in the refrigerator. It was a good thing the three men were out of earshot in the other room.
Chad spooned chunky tomato sauce and cheese over the stuffed manicotti he now had lined up in a baking pan. “I was hoping Fila’s siblings might come with you. I’d really like to meet them too.”
Knowing my mother, I suspected she’d given my sister, Nikki, an earful after I’d sent my unedited wedding photo. Nikki had already complained to me that since my marriage, our mother had turned the pressure up on her to follow suit. Despite my mom’s
reservations about my having three husbands, she’d probably thrown it in Nikki’s face: if I could land three men, she should be able to land one. Minnie Leonard was a master at manipulating her children—for their own good, of course.
“Nikki started a new job, and Frank is off gallivanting around the world as usual.” My mom turned to address me. “Sometimes I think your brother will never settle down. He’s still renting that little efficiency.”
“An efficiency apartment makes sense for him.” Defending him was automatic, though I knew she wouldn’t listen. “And he’s not ‘gallivanting.’ Frank is working. He’s a journalist.”
My mother pursed her lips and returned a skeptical hum. “As for Josef, he’s doing very well at the bank. He’s looking at a possible promotion to regional manager, so he couldn’t afford to take the time off.”
“Joe is up for a promotion?” I smiled, genuinely happy for my older brother. “I hope he gets it. He deserves it, and if I know him, he’ll sock away any extra earnings in a college fund for the kids. I think he has dreams of Ivy League for my nieces.”
Mom looked pleased.
“Okay.” Chad slid the dish of manicotti into the oven and set the timer. “While that bakes, I just need to get the garlic bread done. It looks like you’ve got the salad almost ready, so we’re looking good. More wine, Minnie?”
“Yes, please.” My mother held out her glass. Although she kept her lips in a straight line, I thought I caught a glimmer of appreciation when she looked at Chad.
It would take more than a good meal and good hosting to win her approval, but my charming husband was making headway.
When everything was done, I helped get all the dishes and condiments on the table and returned to the living room to call the men in to dinner. Charles, Chuck, and my dad were laughing about something, and they carried their good mood all the way to the table. The usual murmur of voices and clatter of serving dishes went around the room until everyone had dished out.
My father was the first to take a bite. His face lit up. “You made this, Chad? From scratch?”