Although he trusted the competency of his and Marcella’s parenting skills, he also realized that she would be spending too many hours away from them to deflect all of the garbage from infiltrating her impressionable, developing mind. He simply could not allow too many negative elements to influence her burgeoning selfhood. They were intent on providing her with as many different, new experiences as her temperament would absorb although careful not to overload her before she had a chance to assimilate what she had learned. She became proficient in Greek, her father’s native tongue as well as Italian, for which they all enjoyed conversing with her as whatever she said sounded so much cuter when spoken with her excitedly squeaky little voice.
Antonia now babysat both Dylan and Marco, Massimo Jr.’s son, but never at the same time; not that she would have minded, having easily managed four children herself, but she too had fallen deeply in love with Dylan so was reluctant to share her attention with any other child while in her presence.
Both she and Massimo Sr. spoke only in Italian to her as they found her to be as adorable as were their own little girls so many decades ago, one time looking over at each other, silently lamenting the passage of time, wondering where it all went, then looking back over at Dylan, who so beneficently, so generously infused their world with a new breath of life, reminding them that family and love were the only things in life that really mattered.
******
“Okay, what’s going on? Am I the only one in the dark here?” Marcella asked.
“I’m being railroaded, sis, that’s what’s happening here.” Toni responded after having pushed down her throat a mouth full of grilled chicken and salad with half a glass of water.
“Gene? Kat? Anyone care to enlighten me?” Marcella was clueless and not liking it one bit.
“Kat thinks that we should have a baby. I’m blaming it on two things,” Toni then extended her index finger and proceeded, “One: Dylan, for being irrepressibly cute – probably cuter than any child ever has been or ever will be, which has wrong-headedly lulled my girlfriend into thinking that all children are similarly wonderful, so hey, what the hell, we should just go and make one of our own and secondly, cancer – because cancer has made this cat-woman over here more optimistic and loving than she has a right to be.
“I don’t even know who you are anymore, babe. Geeze.” Although not intending to be funny, Toni’s delivery brought down the room, Dylan included.
“Thank you Auntie Toni!” she exclaimed in her endearingly squeaky little voice, her dimples reaching out, nearly demanding that Toni enjoy a few light pinches of her cheek.
“So who would the father be? Have anyone in mind Kat?” Marcella asked, now fully engaged, thinking how wonderful it would be to bring into the world yet another child with the Mangiarmi genes.
“I have this friend who is absolutely gorgeous, with reddish brown hair and hazel-green eyes, very similar to mine. He’s the artist who’s done all the illustrations for The Little Genius series. I’ve been looking for someone with similar physical characteristics as me so that our child might resemble us both. He’s graciously agreed to be the donor, no strings attached, so he’s ready whenever we are.” Kat said.
Kat turned to face Toni to gauge her reaction. This was something that she wanted badly, that in her mind was non-negotiable, but that also had to be agreed upon quickly because Toni’s youth and fertility were being squandered away with each passing day.
The look being shot at her was one of incredulity. Toni had assumed they were passed having that conversation - that their mutual decision to remain childless was final, making so many offensive comments about ‘those damned breeders selfishly overpopulating the earth!’ yet here Kat was, insisting on introducing a major life-changer to their perfectly contented, blissful existence. Kat ran a hand across Toni’s cheek and chin then onto her neck, leaned over, pulling her closer and kissed her gently, which drew a giggle from Dylan.
“See? How can we have a child in our presence, twenty-four/seven, when you are so incorrigible? What type of lesson would we be teaching a young, impressionable mind? Do you want to raise a little Giovanni?” Toni asked.
“Children should be raised in homes where love exists in abundance. You are intelligent, loving women who both happen to be very good with children. If you weren’t, I wouldn’t let you within shouting distance of my daughter.” Gene thought at least one of them would have some type of response to give, yet the only sound in the room was that of lettuce and carrots being mashed between anxious teeth.
“Are you going to give me a cousin to play with, Auntie Toni? What are you going to name her?” Dylan, as advanced as she was, wasn’t able to pick up on the tension permeating the room.
“All in good time,” Marcella cautioned.
“Eat your lunch, sweat pea.”
“So then, here we are. Sufficiently uncomfortable, are we?” Gene let out a hearty laugh, one that had once been infused with the phlegm borne from enjoying one too many cigarettes, was now, ever since Kat’s cancer diagnosis, sounding clear and healthy. He was no longer so young that he could consciously dismiss the probable ill-effects from the constant invasion of insidious carcinogens into his system as something to worry about in the future; his future was in the present. And then there was his precious daughter, whom he adored, a woman he would never see grow-up if he were to die in a few years from some smoking-related disease.
“Just the other day, Kat and I were watching this reality TV show about a family with four kids, preggers with number five, three different fathers, on public assistance, ten people, soon to be eleven, living with relatives in a space meant to comfortably house no more than four people, none of whom were capable of forming a grammatically intelligible sentence. All we kept saying was how irresponsible and selfish they were by overproducing, like a bunch of greedy-mouthed breeders.
“Whatever happened to that?” Toni was clearly standing alone with her argumentation but also knew there was no one else with whom she would even consider raising a child.
“Was our childhood so terrible that it has soured you on ever having children, sis?” Marcella was clearly on-board with the rest of the table.
“No, I helped take care of our brothers; I never minded doing it and I always felt loved by mom and dad. And you know, we were overly protected and everything, but I actually have really fond memories of us growing up. I think I was a fairly happy kid.”
“Mostly when you were eating,” Marcella jibed. “Chubby and happy.”
“Cucidati – that’s all I’m sayin’ sis,” Toni said, which helped lighten her mood somewhat.
“I think my problem is about not wanting to bring yet another child into an already overpopulated world that I think doesn’t stand a chance at survival. Why would I want to be complicit in forcing a new life to live in misery?” Toni asked in all sincerity.
“I’ve already asked the sperm donor, oh hell, let’s just call him Lukas, to start wearing tighty-whities because I want a girl and I’ve read that constricted testicles can lower sperm count.” Kat stopped to answer a question posed by Dylan.
“Auntie Kattie? What’s a sperm donor?” Dylan asked the question as she speared several pieces of lettuce and a slice of tomato onto her fork.
“Yes Auntie Kattie, do tell. What is it?” Toni repeated, similarly spearing her next forkful of food. Gene interjected as he didn’t want his daughter to become embroiled in Kat and Toni’s passive argument.
“Sperm is one of the components necessary to create human life, an egg being the other. Sperm fertilizes the egg and then a baby gets formed in a woman’s belly. Nine months later, she has a baby. Sperm comes from a man and the egg is generated by a woman.” Gene stopped speaking once he saw the look of recognition in his daughter’s eyes, the one that told him she was satisfied with his explanation.
“So how are we going to deal with having to restrict our, you know, more amorous inclinations? Right now, it’s like whatever we want, wheneve
r we want. We’d have to start locking everything up.” Toni paused to blush.
“Sorry guys.”
Gene raised his eyebrows and laughed heartily. He asked the three adult women, in code, whether any of them had ever witnessed their parents having sex.
“I’m not sure either one was terribly adept at the act of copulating. If I didn’t strongly resemble them both, it would be easy to believe I had been adopted.
“From the time I could remember, they kept separate bedrooms, but every now and again, my father’s bedroom door would remain open all night and I would look around for any sign of him, but to no avail. On those nights my mother’s door would remain closed and locked – yes, I know it was locked because I tried to open it.
“Once I got older I realized that she allowed him monthly visitations, which apparently were enough for him because they stayed together and I don’t think he ever cheated on her.
“But those mornings after? They both acted just a smidgen softer, friendlier, happier. My father would make breakfast for the three of us, whistling while he cooked but then would become his usual, perfectly civilized self after he’d try to kiss her and she would respond with a gentle but firm push away from her. Ugh – next! I don’t want to ruin my lunch.” Kat, for the first time, had only a slightly negative reaction to a discussion about her parents.
Kat so seldom spoke of her parents or her childhood that this was a rare treat for them all, Toni included. Kat hadn’t spoken to them since the day after returning home from her mastectomy when they called her cell to ask why she had been released from the hospital so quickly. They spoke for perhaps five minutes and although Kat refused to tell Toni what had transpired, that was the last time either one called the other.
“You okay, babe?” Toni asked, not at all sure that she was.
“I’m fine, my love. Please, who’s next?”
“I had the misfortune of interrupting their coital activities way too many times. I think I actually walked in on them when they were conceiving you, Toni!” Marcella said to several rounds of laughter.
“Me too. Geeze, it didn’t seem to matter which day of the week, time of day... You know, come to think of it, mom and dad went at it, like, a lot, don’t you agree?” Toni entered one of her zones of the void as she recollected the frequency with which she had the misfortune of walking into her parent’s bedroom at a most inopportune time.
“Why do you think they didn’t lock their bedroom door?” Gene asked in all sincerity.
“I asked mom that very question not too long ago and you know what she said? She wanted to make sure they would be accessible to us just in case one of us needed them. She said that locking your bedroom door was rude and exclusionary and that if we saw something unusual going on, we’d close it quickly and leave with the realization that adult things were taking place. She’s private and everything, but she doesn’t think sex is a horrible, dirty activity that needs to remain a secret.” Marcella explained.
“I’ll bet Giovanni lingered longer than necessary,” Kat added to additional rounds of laughter.
“I now have a newfound respect for Antonia. Hahaaa..., You go girl.” Kat said adoringly.
“So, you accept that your parents were sexual beings who expressed their love for each other not only by raising a family together, making decisions together, but also who enjoyed each other’s company to include physical intimacy. Does that make you less nervous, less fearful maybe that you might have to relinquish your sex life when you have your daughter?” Gene asked, starting intently at Toni.
“Whoa, whoa, you’re already talking about this like I’ve agreed to do it, which I haven’t and would you all please stop ganging up on me? I’m starting to feel pressured into saying yes.
“I get your point, Gene; I really do. I just need time to mull it over, that’s all.” Toni went back to eating in a silent room.
“So we’d be bringing a child into this world as a couple but we aren’t even – can’t even be legally married? What would we do with the baby if we were to split up?” Toni asked in a strange turn of pessimistic, pragmatic thought.
“What? My god Toni, are you serious? Why would we ever do that?”
An uncomfortable silence once again descended on the room, and when Kat slapped Toni’s thigh to shake her out of her patented void, Toni said she was just trying to imagine possible circumstances in which they would. Sensing the hurt pouring out of Kat’s eyes, she shot up from her seat to give Kat a bear hug, kissing the top of her head, apologizing for engaging in such insensitivity.
“Just so we’re clear, short of death, I’m not going anywhere, okay?” Toni added to cement her position.
“Fine. I just think there are certain things one shouldn’t joke about.”
“A toast to kindness in love?” Gene said, holding his water glass out over the table. Everyone, Dylan included, clanked glasses, sharing cheers and salutations.
“Do you think that your personality was forged precisely because of the horror of your childhood? I mean, that you had to fabricate a better existence for yourself because your reality was so horrid that if you’d remained emotionally invested with your parents without seeking your own truth, it would have torn you to pieces?” Toni asked.
“Not sure where you’re going with this Toni, so why don’t you just save us all the trouble and spell it out because I’m really not in the mood for games.” Kat was still hurt from the sting of Toni’s previous comment, her sense of calm, having been disrupted.
“Well, you’re a remarkable woman but how do you know that you are the way you are because that’s how you would have turned out no matter what or that your strength, resolve, tenacity, intensity aren’t just manifestations of your having to navigate through a hellish childhood?” Toni’s words continued to return only a dead-eyed stare from Kat.
“If I may – I believe what Toni is trying to say is that if the construct of our personalities is merely a survival response, the depth of our resolve, our drive to succeed, our creativity, only manifestations of having to navigate through an unhappy childhood, then what will your child be like if she’s not subjected to any strife. Will she grow up to be as intelligent, inventive, introspective, etcetera, as you are.” Gene winked, and satisfied that his clarification was understood by all, returned his attention to his meal.
“Well, first of all, I don’t think there’s even such a thing as a ‘perfect’ set of circumstances in which to raise a child. Oh, we can be a happy couple, in love, creative, productive but life always throws crap at us – cancer being the perfect example, so I wouldn’t worry at all that we’ll make our child’s life so perfect that she’ll not develop any depth of character, and you shouldn’t worry either. She’ll be wonderful, you’ll see.” Kat placed her hand on Toni’s, holding it firmly after Toni responded with a ‘huh’ quickly followed by a ‘cool’.
Gene, Marcella and Kat shared a knowing glance with one another, realizing that Toni was perhaps one or two conversations away from having an intimate experience with a turkey baster.
******
Chapter 7
Next Up, Chicklets for Everyone!
“Yeah, okay I can see how much he resembles you and everything but holy shit, how anyone can keep up with him is a mystery! The rapidity of his topic changes has given me a wicked case of whiplash. How do we know he doesn’t have some genetic mutation or brain dysfunction that’s going to carry forward to our baby? Have you checked his IQ because I can see that he’s gorgeous and all but that doesn’t mean fuck-all if he’s insane or a moron or both!” Toni whispered in a near-panic after Lukas, chisel-cheeked, square jawed, tall, ridiculously handsome Lukas excused himself to go take a shower.
If he would just stop talking, she reasoned, perhaps he could fool someone into thinking that he was in control of his senses. After Lukas emerged from the bathroom, mid-shower, to request a towel and some glycerin soap, Toni looked over at Kat and mouthed “you have to be fucking kidding me”, to
which Kat replied that he was simply a Nervous Nellie, quite the drama queen for having such a masculine exterior and that she shouldn’t be so quick to judge him. She had known him for several years and he had proven a good friend time and again, dependable, rational, highly intelligent. Kat reminded her that he was gay-gay like, super-gay, so was probably just nervous about the prospect of having sex with a woman.
“Chalk it up to a bad case of stage fright, okay?” Kat said with a smile.
She begged Toni to trust her judgment and calm down or else she would scare away his erection and that would most assuredly be a show-stopper. Kat tried once again to convince Toni to chill out, taking the opportunity of his absence to get her lover into a more amorous mood by kissing her gently, touching her in her most sensitive spots.
“But my love, you see how remarkably he resembles me. It’s him or no one.” Kat stated, unequivocally, in between kisses.
“We could be twins, he and I. I’ve been sifting through the characteristics of so many different men for months already – yes Toni, I’ve wanted to get you knocked up for some time now so would you please take that look off of your face? Thank you. I’m asking for your trust here when I say that he’s quite normal, very creative, of higher than average intelligence and will produce a lovely child. He’s quite a voracious pot smoker too, which, coupled with his tight underwear, should secure us a little girl. This is right, and you know it is, so please work with me here, okay?”
Love Finds Its Pocket Page 28