Baby V (Chianti Kisses #1)

by Tara Oakes

  The splash of water thrown on my face does nothing to alleviate my state of shock as she figures it out. She knows! I rush and scrub my face clean before grabbing a towel to bury my face .

  “You can’t tell anyone, please! I don’t know what’s going on yet. It’s just... it’s so crazy. I’ve just been talking to you about all these private things about your brother for Christ’s sake. Are you mad?

  I can’t tell if she is in fact mad, or proud that she figured out the mystery.

  “I knew it! I could tell something was up since that night at Flynn’s! I mean it was bound to happen eventually. You two are practically meant for each other, you know.”

  That’s definitely not the reaction I was expecting. “I’m serious! You have to promise that you won’t breathe a word to anyone!” I know Theresa can’t keep a secret to save her life. Please lord, let her be able to keep this one. She’s so excited she is practically jumping up and down. She finally spots the lack of amusement in my own reaction.

  “Alright, alright. I swear. I won’t tell anyone.” She looks smug. “Besides, I won’t have to. You two aren’t going to be able to keep it quiet for long, you know.” She reaches in, hugs me tight preventing me from responding. “Good night, sis!,” she blurts sneakily while heading into her bedroom.

  I’m left in the hallway once agin to attempt to comprehend my situation. Let’s see. Whatever it is between Dom and me is now officially known by none other than the biggest jabber jaws this side of the Hudson river. Great.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The next morning, I help myself to coffee before leaving Theresa’s place. She’s already left for work and I am in her apartment alone to lock up before leaving myself. It’s net even nine o’clock yet. I know Dom is a morning person and have no doubt he’ll already be out and about handling ATH business. Taking advantage of the solitude around me, I pick up Theresa’s home phone and dial Dom’s cell, unsure of when I’ll get another private moment to call him.

  He answers on the second ring, “Hey sis, shouldn’t you be in your department meeting by now?”

  Not only is Dom Theresa’s brother, but he’s also her boss.... something that she often looses sight of.

  “No... it’s me. I wanted to call you back while I’m alone,” I interject before he carries on believing he’s talking to his younger sister.

  “Hey! Well, I’m glad you called. I was worried that I might have come off like a jerk last night. I didn’t mean to get all John-like on you. You just had me worried, that’s all. I wasn’t sure if you were avoiding my calls, now that things are... changing.”

  I turn off the coffee pot and place my mug in the sink, multitasking.

  “Sorry. It’s just awkward talking to you with your sister right outside the door. I was trying to keep it so she doesn’t suspect anything, Dom. This way whenever this is over between us, there’s less to deal with. But, she figured it out. Everyone’s going to know! My brother’s are going to KILL you! She promises she’s going to keep quiet, but you know your si-”

  “We don’t need to keep anything quiet, V. If you want her to keep her mouth shut, I’ll make sure she does. She’s not the only sibling with secrets. I’ve got some dirt on her. She tells, then I tell. But, it’s no big deal if she does, V. There’s nothing to hide. This isn’t some phase. It’s not going to be over. You’re over thinking it. And don’t worry about your brothers. I’ll handle them when the time comes. And I think you’ll be surprised.”

  His reassurances don’t seem to help ease my tightening stomach as I stay silent. He moves, on, changing the subject.

  “Tell me what you slept in last night, baby. I swear I couldn’t get the image out of my head.”

  I blush. Here he is, doing his thing again. “Not much. I didn’t plan on staying the night. Had to make due with what I had.”

  He groans on his end of the receiver. “You can’t tell me that and then leave me hanging.”

  I smile. I can leave him hanging a whole lot worse. “I had to sleep with practically nothing on... I kept getting all hot and bothered. Some dream about a gorgeous, sexy man sitting through The Notebook with me.”

  “Oh really?... And what was it that this gorgeous, sexy man was doing to you to make you all hot and bothered?”

  It’s nice to be back to our old banter, all traces of awkwardness subsiding as I continue playing the game.

  “Well, I don’t think I can tell you that. You see... I don’t kiss and tell.” I can feel his state of excitement over the line. But, maybe we can re-enact it when you get home.”

  “Baby... we’re gonna do a whole lot more than re-enact it. I promise. I have a meeting in twenty, and I’m gonna have to go take a cold shower. We’ll continue this next time, OK? Don’t worry about my sister, or your brothers. I’ve got it. Text me when you get home so I know you got there safe, OK?”

  I agree. Our phone call adds a little pep to my step. I borrow a pair of jeans and a cardigan from Theresa’s massive closet to wear home. She’s not quite a full size bigger than I am thanks to her impressive curves, but the clothes fit well enough for a car ride.

  Locking the door behind me, I exit her building with a quick goodbye to the friendly doorman from yesterday. I start my car with the remote while I’m still a half block away, hoping to cool the interior temperature a bit before I climb in. I attach my dead phone to the charger as soon I am seated. After the device has enough juice to turn itself on, I check through my messages through the dash screen as I head back to Long Island.

  Mom had called to see if I would want to take a tour of the new house this afternoon. Mary had called to remind me that JJ has a t-ball game tomorrow afternoon. The last message makes me groan as I listen to a whiny, high pitched voice trail on an on through the car’s speakers.

  Tanya.

  Cecily’s cousin was calling to invite me to lunch sometime this week so we can discuss Cecily’s upcoming baby shower. Thankfully, I hadn’t had to spend much time with the woman other than the usual pre-wedding things before Cecily had joined the family. And... the occasional BBQ or birthday party that my brother and his wife hosted.

  I try to like Tanya, but her personality makes it almost impossible. She’s materialistic, snobbish, fake... all things I strive not to be. She’s probably the type of girl that would list Barbie as a role model. Everything about her is fake, from her hair to her boobs, teeth, tan, and nails. I dread having to return her call, but find some satisfaction that I am the one chosen to be Godmother of Tony and Cecily’s baby, not her.

  I press the return call option on the display screen in the dashboard, with each ring bringing more dread. Thankfully, she doesn’t answer my call and it is instead sent to her voicemail. Even her message is annoying, instructing me to leave a message, and she’ll call back “if she wants.” The beep is my queue.

  “Hi Tanya, this is Vincenza. I just received your message. This week is open for me, so we could meet up whenever is good for you. I’m sure Theresa and Mary will want to come, too. Set something up with them and email me the details. I’ll see you then.”

  Click.

  I should feel guilty for throwing Theresa and Mary under the bus, but if I have to share a meal with this woman, by God, I won’t be suffering it alone. Misery loves company.

  The thermostat in the car reads ninety degrees fahrenheit outside. Even for this time of year, this is one crazy heat wave. I set my mind on taking a swim as soon as I get back to the house. Passing the guardhouse as I slow into the drive I wave at the man inside, thankful he doesn’t ask me to lower my window and loose some of the valuable coolness inside.

  Mike’s Jeep is in my old parking spot. I pull next to it turning the engine off and bracing myself for the onslaught of heat about to attack me. I grab the pile of yesterday’s clothes and make a mad dash for the front door and the promise of comfort.

  The house is filled with voices as I discreetly let myself in. Aunt Rosie is dashing about, straightening up side tables and runnin
g a dust rag over the surfaces. I know for a fact that there are at least two full-time employees at all times to perform these chores, but my aunt is never completely convinced that things are clean enough.

  Mike is sitting at the dining room table with a large double decker sandwich and a bottle of water in front of him and mom has just entered to check on his progress when she sees me.

  “V! It’s about time! Michael came to visit. Sit down... I’make you sandwich,” she plans as she pulls out the chair next to my brother, who’s sitting in Dom’s vacant seat.

  Aunt Rosie leaves her dusting to come and greet me.

  “Darling! How is Theresa? Is her apartment clean? Did you two have a nice time?” It’s apparent where Theresa inherited her OCD house cleaning gene from.

  She takes the pile of yesterday’s clothes from under my arm and gives them to one of the housekeepers waiting nearby, with instructions to have them laundered and placed in my room. Returning to us, she sits across from me, awaiting my report on her daughter’s domestic qualities.

  “Aunt Rosie, Theresa’s fine. We watched a movie and ordered a pizza. Her condo is beautiful as always.” I left out the part where I disclosed all of my hidden feelings about her son. Probably for the best, I think. Oh, and I decided to edit out the fact that her daughter ditched work early. Aunt Rosie seems satisfied with my news and is easily distracted by the middle-aged housekeeper arranging a vase of florals in the foyer beyond us.

  “Angela! We have to cut the stems before we set those out. Bring them to the kitchen and we’ll do it together.” She smiles at Mike and I, “excuse me, kids.” She leaves us to tend to her flowers.

  Mike and I laugh together, quietly. Aunt Rosie has the need to micromanage almost everything and we have both been on the receiving end of her compulsion before. I stare at his sandwich, thankful that my own will be here soon. I didn’t realize how famished I am, having skipped breakfast. Mike seems to be enjoying his thoroughly, as I interrupt his lunch.

  “So, do you make it a habit to drive forty minutes so your mommy can feed you?”

  Mike lives in a large apartment on the west side, close enough to Jersey City, where he works in one of ATH’a satellite offices near the main loading docks. But, he is your typical momma’s-boy and will find any excuse to come home and have her whip up a little something for him to eat. Or do his laundry.

  He seems to take pride in this. “You bet! If I don’t come home for food, I think she will loose a small sense of purpose. Therefore, you see, I am really coming here for her well being. But, while we’re appreciating each other’s redeeming qualities... do you make it a habit to disappear and have Dom practically put out an APB on you?”

  I roll my eyes. I choose to ignore the latter half of his question. There is some truth to Mike’s attempt in avoiding his true mooch status. My mother had her hands full cooking, cleaning for, and taking care dad and all of us kids. Now that dad’s gone and all of the boys have moved out, she’s in heaven when they come for a visit so she can brush up on her skills.

  “Besides. I had to pick up some papers from Dom’s desk. He needs some new figures for a pitch they’re making tonight. If mom just so happens to notice that I am famished and undernourished, who am I to say no to her cooking?” Looking satisfied with his justification, he takes another bite of his sandwich.

  As if on queue, momma appears with my own turkey and swiss on sourdough and sets the plate in front of me with a large glass of fresh iced tea. She sits down with us but I hesitate to start my lunch, noticing that she hasn’t brought out a plate for herself. She picks up on my pause and gives a simple familiar direction.

  “Eat, eat! I’ll just keep you company in case you want something.”

  Mom’s almost never eaten informal meals with us. She’s the type to nibble on something while in the kitchen preparing for everyone else. She gathers more satisfaction from watching others enjoy the fruits of her labor. I should be used to her old-school, traditional ways by now, but I need some time to re-acclimate to these things now that I’m living home again.

  Mike finished his meal and pushes his plate aside while clapping his hands to his non-existent belly. “Mom, that was great! Really hit the spot. I would love to have sandwiches like this at home but I never have time to make them.” He has some nerve knowing full well that Momma will dash off to the kitchen to pack him a doggy bag after that comment. He shrugs his shoulders, feigning innocence to me as he notices my evil eye.

  I shake my head, “Jerk,” and take a bite myself. Somethings never change, no matter how old the children get. Mike excuses himself and travels off into Dom’s office for the paper he needs. I’m left to enjoy my lunch in peace. Damn! The sounds emanating from Dom’s office remind me of him and the text I’d promised I’d send. I unlock my phone and complete the task before placing the device on the table near me.

  HOME SAFE AND SOUND. ABOUT TO HAVE A HEATSTROKE. NEED A SWIM.

  I don’t have time to finish chewing before the screen lights up with an icon of an envelope. Wow. That was quick.

  YOU’RE GETTING BETTER AT FOLLOWING MY DIRECTIONS. THANKS FOR THE TEXT, BABY. IF YOU WANT TO FEEL HEATSTROKE, COME DOWN TO MIAMI. I’VE ALREADY HAD TO CHANGE MY SHIRT AND IT’S ONLY NOON. THIS IS WHY THEY INVENTED CENTRAL AIR. P.S.-BIKINI OR ONE PIECE?

  Butterflies return and a huge smile crosses my face as I sit back and continue to type.

  NOT SURE YET. ANY SUGGESTIONS?

  That will keep him silent for a little while. I finish more than half of my lunch before deciding I’ve had enough and crumple my napkin to the plate. Mom strolls in carrying a large paper bad which I can only assume is filled with pre-made sandwiches, bread, cheeses, deli meats and topping to assemble more. When she packs a care package she really pulls out all the stops. She notices my half eaten lunch before scolding me.

  “V. You didn’t finish!”

  I’m already on my feet, phone in hand, making my exit. I apologize as I rush to head out. “No time mom. I’m gonna take a swim. It’s too hot!”

  I’m not making excuses. It is hot. The temperature outside isn’t completely to blame. Thinking of Dom adds coal to the fire. I haven’t had much need for bikini’s at St. Bart’s. Mother Superior would probably have us a doing a gazillion Hail Mary’s in penance if she spotted one on campus. Searching through my dresser drawers I try to locate where mom had unpacked them. Ugh! It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack... wait... Bingo! I come across a small pile of swimwear. I don’t have enough time to sort through them before my phone lights up once more.

  MY ONLY REQUEST IS THAT YOU SEND ME A PICTURE. HAVE A LITTLE PITY FOR A LONELY GUY IN A STUFFY SUIT, COVERING HIS LAP SO NO ONE NOTICES.

  Agh! My mission has just gotten more complicated. Now I need to find something that will be cute enough to take a picture in. Hmm... polka dots? Nope, too juvenile. Beige stripes? Nah, I’m too pale to pull that off right now. I decide on the black and white plaid halter top two piece.

  Quickly changed, I add a straw beach fedora bought last year in Mexico, and top it off with my oversized sunglasses. I stare at the reflection in the mirror. Not bad, but now that I have some free time, It won’t hurt to get a tan and hit the treadmill. Dom is a prime physical specimen and It’s intimidating enough just looking at his body. I can’t even think about him looking at mine.

  I hold out the phone to the mirror, pucker my lips, doing my best Sports Illustrated pose and hit the button. Satisfied with how it’s come out, I save it. I think I’ll make him stew a little first.

  HOW BADLY DO YOU WANT TO SEE IT?

  I can’t believe I just sent that, starting to regret that last text as I wait for his reply.

  OH BABY, YOU HAVE NO IDEA. YOU WOULDN’T BE TEASING ME NOW, WOULD YOU? I’M HEADING BACK TO THE HOTEL NOW TO TAKE A COLD SHOWER THANKS TO YOU.

  It worked. I should probably give him a little something to make up for getting him all hot and bothered. I attach the picture to my next text and hit the send butt
on, satisfied that I’m monopolizing his attention at the moment.

  SINCE YOU ASKED SO NICELY... HERE’S A LITTLE SOMETHING TO TIDE YOU OVER. ENJOY YOUR SHOWER.

  I step into a pair of flip flops and take off for the back yard. Helping myself to some sunblock, a cold bottle of water and an oversized beach towel from the pool house, I set up camp on a reclining lounge chair near the deeper end of the pool. Wanting to get some color, I choose the SPH 15 lotion to get started. Lathering it on generously, I lay back to soak in the sun and relax under it’s heat.

  Playing with my phone, passing the time, I open my emails and scroll through. Spam, Junk, and advertisements comprise the bulk of my inbox. There is a message from Theresa from about forty-five minutes ago. I open it and laugh aloud while I read.

  YOU LITTLE WITCH! WHY IS IT THAT I JUST GOT A CALL FROM TANYA, TO SET UP A LUNCH DATE? REALLY, V? THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE. SHE IS NOT THE COUSIN OF MY SISTER IN LAW, THEREFORE I SHOULDN’T HAVE TO BE SUBJECTED TO HER BOTOXED, OVERLY MADE UP FACE WHILE I ATTEMPT TO EAT A MEAL. P.S.- LUNCH IS 1 PM ON SUNDAY AT THE GARDEN CITY HOTEL. AND, IF YOU BAIL, I WILL FIND YOU...

  Theresa despises Tanya even more than I do for some reason, but she is more vocal about it, whereas I chose to put of with the girl for as little time as necessary. The phone notifies me that I’ve just received a new message. Knowing full-well that it’s from Dom, I inhale deeply before opening it.

  I WILL NEED TO INSPECT THAT BATHING SUIT IN PERSON WHEN I GET HOME. IT LOOKS LIKE IT COULD BE DANGEROUS. IT NEARLY CAUSED ME TO CHOKE. ENJOY YOUR SWIM BABY.

  Satisfied, I tuck my phone away and stretch out to bronze my skin. The sunlight drenches over me, penetrating my skin, leading me to a deep state of relaxation. Thoughts and images wisp through my mind as I daydream about Dom rinsing off his frustration under a cold shower. Small beads of sweat are now covering my brow as the afternoon reaches it’s warmest peak. Footsteps jostle me from my fantasy as a tall shadow blocks my sun.