A chill of excitement spread down my spine as I looked down to read the plus sign in the tiny window, but all that awaited me was one line. Puzzled, I brought the applicator close to my face and looked again.
The test was negative.
I sucked in a deep breath. No. There had to be a simple explanation. The test was defective. It had to be. I was definitely pregnant. What else could explain the queasiness, my incessant appetite, plus the fact that I was constantly tired? Disappointment flooded my body, and tears began to sting the corners of my eyes. No. It must be defective. What a relief that I had bought two tests just in case something like this happened.
With a defiant air, I tore the paper off the spare test. I'd read stories about women who received negative results but turned out to be pregnant anyway. After I washed my hands and began the three-minute countdown, my phone buzzed from the top of the bathroom counter. In annoyance, I stared down at it, wondering who would dare interrupt this crucial time in my life. Josie. Uh-oh. Something might be wrong at the shop. I swiped my finger across her name. "Hey, what's up?"
"Did you take it yet?" she whispered.
"No," I lied while struggling to control the irritation in my voice. "Is that why you called?"
"Only part of the reason, and I'm sorry to bug you," she said. "I know it's an important day but I wanted to tell you that Enzo Fiato stopped by right after you left."
Why would Allegra's son come into my bakery? "What did he want?"
Josie snickered. "You, of course. It's seems Enzo has a little crush on you."
"Okay, I don't want to deal with this right now, Jos."
"I know," she said simply. "But he was acting kind of strange. He said something about he and Anna heading back to Jersey tomorrow. Then he left his number, in case you wanted to make a date. Enzo said it would be one night you never forgot."
My stomach rumbled at her words. "This is making me nauseous."
"Oh, I'll bet it's not Enzo making you nauseous," she laughed. "That's good old morning sickness—which, by the way, does not occur only in the morning. I had morning, afternoon, and evening sickness when I was pregnant with my Danny. But the stretch marks are the worst. Why, I still can't get rid of—"
"Okay, I get it. Is that all?" My three minutes were almost up.
Josie's tone was low. "No. Guess what kind of car Enzo was driving?"
"I give up. What kind?"
Her voice held a hint of annoyance. "Jeez, Nancy Drew, try to stay with me, okay? A Camaro, of course."
We have a winner. "Was it red?"
"No, white. But he could have painted it."
"I suppose so. Did you get the plate?"
She giggled. "Yep. I'm actually pretty proud that I thought of it."
"Okay, pat yourself on the back later. If it's not too busy in the shop, can you call Brian and have him run it?"
"No problem, partner. Should I have him call and let you know what he finds out?"
I hesitated. Tonight was supposed to have been a special evening for Mike and me, and I didn't want any interruptions. However, things were not going according to plan. "Uh, okay. I'm not sure if I'll be able to pick up, but he can always leave me a message."
"All righty, then." Josie's tone became cheerful. "And I suspect he'll be leaving a message because something tells me you and your hubby will be doing some serious all-night celebrating."
My time was up. "See you later." I clicked off while she was still talking, said a silent prayer, and then stared down at the window.
Negative.
A sob escaped from my throat. In anguish, I gripped the bathroom sink between my hands with a strong urge to rip it out of the wall and fling it across the room. Since I wasn't strong enough to do that, I picked up the test and hurled it against the wall. It landed in the tub. I picked it up, deposited the piece of plastic under the heel of my sandal, and then pressed down until I heard a satisfying crunch. After I dumped it in the garbage, I sank down onto the cool tile flooring and buried my face in my hands. Then I burst into tears.
What a fool I was. One of my grandmother's favorite sayings when I was growing up had been, "Never count your ducks before they're hatched." I'd wanted to be pregnant so badly that I must have feigned all the symptoms. There would be no special present to my husband on our anniversary. In fact, I hadn't even bought him a material one yet. What did it even matter anymore? Everything was ruined.
I sat there for a long time and sobbed. Yes, I was feeling sorry for myself but thought I had a right to. Why did this have to be so difficult for me? Why was life so unfair? All I wanted was a baby. I would have gladly cut off a limb if it guaranteed me one. The questions kept running through my head. What's wrong with me? Why can't I get pregnant?
Wearily, I sat there and wiped at my eyes with a tissue. Spike tottered over to make sure I was okay. I patted him absently on the head, and he left the room. He was most likely tired of my crying jags too. God knows this hadn't been the first for me.
I stood and washed my face in the sink then looked at my reflection in the mirror for a long time. Yes, I had a good life. A wonderful husband whom I loved more than anything. My business was thriving. I had good, albeit slightly abnormal, parents plus a grandmother who was amazing. My baby sister and Josie would do anything for me. I was blessed and had so much more than other people. So why wasn't it enough?
Spike barked, and there was a sharp tap on my front door. I glanced down at my watch. Five fifteen. Mike wasn't expected until at least six, and he had his own key. The tap sounded again. Whoever it was wouldn't go away. I clenched my teeth together in annoyance. Okay, you can do this, Sal. Just get rid of them.
I glanced out the peephole and saw my sister standing there. With a sigh, I opened the front door.
She gave me a faint, troubled smile, which faded when her eyes met mine. "Are you all right?"
"Fine," I said hastily. "What's up?"
The color rose slightly in her cheeks. "Look, I can come back later if it's not a good time. I stopped at the bakery, but Josie said you'd gone home early—"
"Did she say why?" I interrupted.
Gianna gave me a puzzled look. "No, I—Sal, what's wrong? You're scaring me. You look like you're angry at the world."
I was but didn't want to get into it now. Gianna would have been sympathetic and full of sound advice, but the subject was too fresh and painful. "I'm fine, just tired. Come on in. Want some coffee?"
She shook her head. "Um, I was hoping you had a little while to talk. I won't stay more than a few minutes."
"Hey, you're always welcome in our house for as long as you want to stay."
Gianna sat down at the kitchen table while I turned on my Keurig. Well, at least I didn't have to drink decaf coffee anymore. That was a perk, right? I swallowed hard as tears threatened to make another appearance.
Gianna sniffed at the air. "What are you making? It smells wonderful."
"Pork chops." I bit into my lower lip, trying to stop the flux of tears again. Damn it. This wouldn't do. I had to pull myself together. I filled a cup for myself and then joined her at the table. "You sure you don't want some?"
She twisted a paper napkin between her hands. "No, thanks. How was your trip? Did Violet give you any information about her mother and who might have run her down?"
"A little," I confessed. "What do you know about Senator Ambrose?"
She wrinkled her brow. "Not that much. Why—what's he done?"
"I'm not sure. But Mom and Dad—who we managed to run into in Vegas, by the way—saw him at Mrs. Gavelli's house last week. He was arguing with Allegra."
Her eyes widened. "Really? Well, of course I know all about his law firm and that his wife has an office there too. He didn't practice for very long himself. I've also heard that Lena took the bar exam six times before she passed."
"How do you know this?"
She shrugged. "Lawyers talk just like everybody else. Martin is up for reelection this year, and his persona
l life has always seemed super squeaky clean, which automatically makes me suspicious. Politicians usually have at least one skeleton in their closet. Why were Mom and Dad out there? Mortuary convention?"
I drained my coffee cup. "Stalking a literary agent."
Gianna rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. "Why am I not surprised?" She folded her hands on the table and stared down at its surface.
I studied her for a moment. Something was still bothering Gianna. She'd tried to tell me what was wrong before we'd left on Friday, but there hadn't been enough time. I reached for her hand. It was ice cold, and I almost drew back in alarm. "You haven't been yourself for days. What's going on?"
Her voice trembled. "Nothing."
"Come on. You know you can always talk to me."
She hesitated as her eyes met mine. "There's obviously something bothering you as well. You don't need to hear my problems in addition to whatever else is going on, Sal."
I still didn't have the heart to tell her about the test. "Never mind. I want to know what's upsetting you."
Instead of replying, she released my hand, folded her arms on top of the table, then sank her head into them. Her entire body shook as she burst into tears.
Startled, I wrapped my arm around her thin shoulders. Her outburst terrified me. "Gi, please tell me what's going on. Are you sick?"
She stared up at me with a tear-stained face. "No. I'm pregnant."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Bewildered, I stared at my sister in silence. This had to be some type of joke. Finally, I laughed. "Come on, you're making that up." Had Josie told her about my test and they were playing a cruel prank on me? No, they'd never do something like that.
Gianna sat back in the chair and wiped at her eyes with a napkin. "Yeah, I wish. I took a test the other day, and the doctor confirmed it this afternoon. I'm six weeks along."
The room started to spin. No, it couldn't be. The pregnancy gods must have gotten us mixed up. I wanted the baby, not Gianna. How could this be possible?
"But…" Words failed me. "You—you and Johnny—were trying for a baby?"
Gianna barked out a laugh. "Hardly. You could say that it was a piece of bad luck. I don't leave things to chance, Sal. I always take precautions. But as they say, nothing is one hundred percent foolproof."
I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it wouldn't go down. "What did Johnny say?"
Her red-rimmed eyes regarded me with misery. "He doesn't know yet, but there's no doubt in my mind that he'll be thrilled. If I tell him."
"What do you mean 'if'?" Perplexed, I stared at her. "He's the father—of course you're going to tell him!"
Gianna's jaw set in a determined lock. She stared straight ahead as if she had tunnel vision and refused to look at me. "I don't know if I'm going to have this baby."
Horrified, I watched her for some type of reaction, but there was none. My sister suddenly seemed cold and aloof. "What are you saying? You'd never do something like that." A baby was a gift. She couldn't just get rid of it like it was yesterday's newspaper. This was my niece or nephew she was talking about. Didn't she realize how lucky she was? "Please tell me you're not serious."
Gianna exhaled sharply and focused on me with a mournful gaze. "I knew you wouldn't understand. You want a child so badly that you can't comprehend why everyone else doesn't feel the same way. I'm not ready for kids, Sal. Johnny wants them, but I didn't make him any promises when we moved in together. In fact, I warned him it might never happen. I felt it was important for our relationship to put my cards on the table at the very beginning."
"You're just like Colin." The name popped out of my mouth before I could stop it. Oh no. What had I done? I longed to take it back, but one look at my sister's face told me that the damage had already been done.
Gianna's chocolate brown eyes turned to steel. "Really? You're comparing me to your cheating, lying ex-husband now?"
"Of course not. No, I didn't mean it that way." Resentment started to burn inside me like a flame. Why can't it be me instead of her?
Gianna stood and shifted her purse over her shoulder. Her lips were drawn together tightly in a stubborn manner. "It was obviously a mistake to tell you. Next thing I know, you and Mike will be offering to raise this baby for us."
Fighting for self-control, I bit so hard into my lower lip that I tasted blood. "But you have to tell Johnny. It's his child too!"
"It's my body," she said calmly. "This is my decision. And I'd better not find out that you breathed a word of this to him, or I'll never forgive you."
As her eyes clouded over with anguish, I felt about as big as a pin. "No—of course not," I stammered. "I mean, you have to—"
"I thought I could count on your help," she said in a choked-up voice. "You've always been so supportive of me. But it's obvious you can't look past your own hurt now."
Tears crept into the corners of my eyes. "You don't understand." I should have told her about the test then—how all my hopes and dreams had vanished in three minutes flat. For some reason, I decided not to.
She grabbed her car keys and started for the front door. "Thanks for all the help. It's appreciated more than you know." The bitterness in her tone was apparent.
"Gianna, wait. Please don't leave like this!" I hurried after her and grabbed her arm, but she shook my hand off. Weeping, she ran down the front steps to her car while I stood on the porch watching in shocked silence. She backed out of the driveway with her tires screeching and at such a furious pace that she almost hit Mike as he pulled in.
Oh, no. What had I done? She was right, of course. This was none of my business. I should have been supportive of her and whatever she decided. My heart hurt over what had just transpired between us. Gianna had a tough decision to make, and I hadn't made things any easier for her.
I'd never been jealous of my sister before. She'd always been prettier and smarter, more outgoing than me. She could polish off an entire cheesecake in one sitting and not gain an ounce. These things had never bothered me because I loved her so much. From the moment my mother had laid her in my arms when I was three years old, I'd adored Gianna and always tried to watch out for her. I'd proudly announced to everyone that day that I would always take care of my baby sister. My parents had recorded the moment on a VHS tape they still had around somewhere. Why couldn't I have offered her a few lousy words of encouragement instead of sounding so judgmental?
Because now, after all these years and for the first time ever, I wanted to be her.
The smell of smoke permeated my nostrils, and I ran back into the kitchen. I grabbed a potholder and lifted out the pork chops, which were now black around the edges. I turned on the wall fan before the smoke alarm went off. The top crust on the potatoes was a charcoal color as well. Yes, it was a banner day for me. I couldn't even make a decent dinner for my husband. Dejected, I set both items on top of the stove, hung my head, and silently cried.
The screen door opened, and I heard Mike's footsteps in the living room, his work boots reverberating against the wooden floor. I knew he was behind me but didn't turn around from the stove.
"What's the matter with Gianna?" Mike asked. "She barreled out of the driveway like her car was on fire."
"Nothing." It was the only word I could manage to choke out without crying again.
He put his arms around my waist and buried his lips in my neck. He smelled of sweat and hard work with a hint of his spicy cologne mixed in. "Mmm. Look at my princess, working hard on my dinner." He stared down at the pork chops over my shoulder, his rock-hard chest pressed against my back. His body started to shake with laughter. "They're not supposed to be that color, right?"
"No. I forgot they were in the oven," I said hoarsely.
He kissed me again and chuckled. "Well, I didn't exactly marry you for your cooking skills, so no worries there. We'll order a pizza."
I didn't reply.
Mike slid his hands up inside my shirt. They were warm and gentle as he caressed my skin
. "Better yet, why don't we skip dinner for now and go straight to dessert?" His voice was low with a sexy undertone as he kissed my neck again.
I still didn't turn around, praying for some self-control before I did something really stupid, like break the pan over his head in a sudden fit of rage. What was the matter with me?
It must have finally registered with him that something was wrong. "Princess?" He gently turned me around to face him and ran a finger down the side of my face. "You've been crying. What happened?"
"Nothing." I tried to move away, but he refused to let me go.
Mike lifted my chin until our gazes met, and I stared into his dark blue, mesmerizing eyes, which were filled with concern. "Talk to me, baby."
Oh, wrong word to use. I started to sob. "Gianna's pregnant."
His jaw immediately dropped, and a broad smile spread across his handsome face. "Wow, that's fantastic! I'll bet Johnny's thrilled."
Didn't he understand? His words only caused another pang in my chest. Mike obviously had no idea how much his simple statement hurt me, otherwise he never would have said it. But in my opinion, he should have known. My husband should have been the one to be thrilled. I should have been the one to say those beautiful words to him as we lay in bed with our arms around each other. We're going to have a baby, honey.
I stared down at the floor. "He doesn't know yet, so please don't say anything to him. I probably shouldn't have even told you."
"Sure, okay." He wove his fingers through my hair. "Well, don't worry. My lips are sealed. Gee, I wonder if they'll have a boy or a girl? I'll bet Johnny wants a boy."
Anger rose from the pit of my stomach, and for the first time in my life, I wished he would stop talking. My behavior was unreasonable and not sane—I knew this. For some odd reason I wanted Mike to be as upset as I was. Shouldn't we both be angry at the injustices of the world?
"Gianna is less than thrilled. It wasn't exactly planned."
"Oh, she'll come around." He smiled down at me, the love shining through his mesmerizing eyes, but his next words were my undoing. "Holy cow, your mother is going to be so excited. When they tell her, she'll freak out and—"
Crumbled to Pieces Page 14
