A Promised Fate

by Cat Mann

  Chapter 10

  Spaghetti Sandwich

  “Baby?”

  I slid my shoes off by the mat.

  The breakfast bar had remnants of Max’s dinner. Half a string cheese, a few broccoli stems and the crust of a turkey sandwich. Apparently, Ava never got the spaghetti message. The sofa was empty aside from a forgotten-about iPad wedged between throw pillows.

  “Ava? Baby, I’m home.”

  My ears perked up at the sound of a baseball game carrying down from the bedroom TV. Baseball is their favorite.

  “There you are!”

  Ava and Max sat together on our bed. He was lying on his stomach with his arms and legs fanned out in every direction while she rubbed his back and tried to soothe him. His eyes were puffy, red and stained with wet streaks from his tears. “What’s the matter?”

  “He had a nightmare and now he can’t fall back asleep.”

  I leaned down to kiss Ava and then stripped down to my undershirt and boxers so I could join them in bed. The mattress sank a bit with my weight and I leaned back against the pile of pillows stacked up in front of the headboard.

  “Come here, Buddy.” Patting my hand on my chest, Max army crawled across the mattress and up my body, sharp little elbows shoving into my flesh. Finally he crawled into my arms. He draped himself over me and pillowed his head in the same dip of my shoulder that Ava sleeps on. “What was the nightmare about this time?” I asked Ava.

  “I haven’t been able to get him to talk. He won’t say anything. I know he’s happy you're home though.”

  “I’m happy I’m home, too. I missed you both.” My lips pressed into the top of Max’s head a dozen or so times and my legs bounced in a soothing, rocking rhythm. I rubbed Max’s back and he sniffled.

  “Will you tell me, Max? What did you see?”

  He didn’t answer me so I talked quietly in his ear telling him over and over again how much I love him.

  “I love you, sweet boy. I know what you see sometimes when you sleep is scary, but all you have to do is open your eyes and we will be right here for you. Will you talk to me? Please?”

  Max’s arms squeezed me tighter and he pushed his face deeper into my shirt, breathing me in, sucking the air away from my skin the same way as Ava.

  “You alright, Ava?” I reached out and tucked her under my other arm.

  “Mmm hmm.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.” She wasn’t going to tell me about the anxiety attack.

  “What was your trigger?”

  “Ugh,” she sighed. “It wasn’t a big deal. The whole ordeal lasted five minutes.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “Does your mom ever just mind her own business?”

  “No. Never.”

  “I don’t know what the trigger was, Ari. I’d tell you if I knew but your mom and I were talking about you and the baby and Max and the next thing I knew, I felt as if I couldn’t breathe.”

  “She said Max was there when it happened.” My legs kept their gentle shake and my palm continued to soothe him by slowly sliding up and down his small back. Max’s eyelids were heavy and each of his blinks lasted a bit longer than the last one. “She said that it scared him.”

  “It did scare him. It scared me, too. I’m not a pretty person to be around when an anxiety attack happens.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “You were at work, Ari. What would you have done besides worry about nothing?”

  “I could have come home. Work isn’t number one or number two or three, I don’t even rank the place. You are my number one. You’re my whole world. I want to be here for you. Always.

  “I was ok. I had my own work to do anyway.” She gestured to her open laptop at the foot of the bed. “And I had plans to watch the Cubs game tonight without your commentary in the background.”

  “Are they winning?”

  “Pfft,” Ava’s version of a no.

  “What are you working on?” I pointed to her laptop.

  “The fundraiser.”

  “Yeah? How’s it coming?”

  “Great. We have enough donated prints to fill the whole gallery. I’ve sold most of the tickets -- I have just a few tables left to fill, and the menu is set.”

  “Oh, what are we eating?”

  “A bunch of stuff but the main course is smoked salmon, followed by a seafood medley on asparagus with ravioli and pesto.”

  “That sounds so freaking good. I am starving.”

  Ava giggled and my heart thudded and smiled. “How many people will be seated at each table?”

  “Eight.” Her forehead crinkled. “Why do you ask?”

  “Can I reserve a whole table from you?”

  “You already have a ticket -- you’re my date so you have to sit by me…Please. Why do you need an entire table?”

  “I’d like to contribute to House to Home and some of my staff was asking about the evening and when I told them it was five hundred a plate, people kind of cringed. So, I thought I could just buy a table’s worth of seats and they can come and still afford to bid on the prints and the door prizes. I hear Margaux is donating a shopping spree at the L.A. store as a door prize and I know a bunch of people who would kill for that.”

  “Pay up, Alexander,” Ava smiled and stuck out her palm.

  “I’m kinda in my underwear right now, Ave, with a near-sleeping three year old on my chest. You know I'm good for the money. Can I pay you later?”

  “Payment is expected at the time the reservation is placed,” she teased, pulling her computer up to her lap.

  “Wow. I was expecting maybe a thank you or possibly even a kiss. Is this how you treat all of the charity’s supporters?”

  Ava leaned across a pillow and planted a quiet kiss to my cheek. “Thank you and no, people who purchase tickets for the event will receive a chocolate gift basket from Yummy Yums.”

  “I love Yummy Yums. Will… will you send me a basket, too?”

  “Once you pay up,” she teased me again.

  Max blinked one last slow-motion blink, his grip around me loosened and at last, he fell back asleep. I rolled on to my shoulder and eased him over to a spare pillow. Max curled into a ball and shoved his thumb into his mouth. I pushed off the bed.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m starving. Have you eaten?” I asked and bent down to fish my wallet out of my suit pants that I had tossed carelessly on the floor.

  “I haven’t eaten yet,” she said. “I’ll make something for us in a bit.”

  I threw my wallet up in the air and Ava caught it before it could hit the blankets. “Here's your payment. I can take care of dinner tonight.”

  “K.” She flipped open my wallet and began to secure my table for the House to Home charity auction. “Thanks again!”

  “My pleasure.”

  In the refrigerator next to the milk, I found the extra large bowl of spaghetti my mom had snuck in there. Popping it in the microwave, I worked on gathering plates and a couple of forks and then found the loaf of garlic bread. The microwave beeped and I dumped the steaming food on the plates and carried them back off to the bedroom.

  Ava’s nose was still shoved into her laptop and the glow from the screen illuminated her pretty face. She was fully immersed in her work and I watched in admiration as her nose crinkled cutely like a bunny and her tongue unknowingly traced the curve of her pouty lip.

  The TV distracted me and tore my eyes away from Ava to the screen: “Divorce rumors ring true for business mogul Cameron Gallo and his wife of five years, Dove Gallo. Today In Entertainment has the lead on the scoop.” Olivia Chavez stood on the set of TIE, the top celebrity news show in the nation, and smiled gleefully as she reported the divorce between the couple.

  “Dove officially filed for divorce from Cameron last week, citing infidelity. Neither of them were available to comment, but a source very close to the couple to
ld TIE that Cameron has wounded Dove beyond reconciliation due to an extramaterial affair. According to the couple’s pre-nuptial agreement, should this affair be fact, an infidelity clause boosts Dove’s alimony settlement from an estimated one hundred and sixty million dollars to an estimated three hundred and twenty million dollars, making this divorce one of the most costly in US history.”

  “Yeesh. What on Earth are you watching, Ava?”

  She jumped in her skin when I startled her and her eyes shot up to the TV screen. “I had the game on,” she shrugged. “This garbage must have come on after that.”

  The image of a small child walking between Dove and Cameron and holding hands with both of them, appeared on the screen. The reporter continued, “The source advised that these infidelity allegations have Cameron outraged and he plans to fight Dove to the bitter end for full custody of their four-year-old daughter, Lola Love Gallo.”

  “Good God, this is sick.” I hit the power button without a moment to spare.

  “What is?” Ava’s mind had already moved back to the matter on her laptop and she gave little thought to the reports on the television.

  “Those people.”

  “What people, Ari?” She closed the computer and scooted it off her lap.

  “The Gallos.”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Ok, whatever. Your tickets and Yummy Yum chocolates should arrive in a few weeks. I sent them to your office. That way Fauna will make sure you share and that you don’t eat them all in one sitting.”

  “Fauna’s gone.” I handed Ava the plate of spaghetti.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, she quit. As of six o’clock today she’s not my assistant anymore.”

  “When were you planning on telling me this?”

  “I thought I had.”

  “Uh. No. You didn’t. Who’s your new person?”

  “I don’t know. She starts Monday. Apparently she's moving this weekend for the job.”

  “Do you know anything about this person? Do you have a name?”

  I shook my head from side to side like an idiot. “Nope. It doesn’t matter to me who sits out at that desk, so long as she can answer a phone and take a message.”

  “Well, it matters to me, Ari. This woman will be working with you for sixty plus hours a week. Your assistant sees you more than we see you!”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “Oh please! Fauna knew way too much about you.”

  “Nah, she didn’t. Anyway, there isn’t anything I can do about it. Fauna left and HR found someone new. I stayed out of the hiring process. Like I said, I don’t care who sits out there.”

  Ava took a bite of her spaghetti. “How’d you make this so fast?”

  “I didn’t. My mom made it this afternoon and she stuck in the fridge when you weren’t looking.”

  “She is unbelievable! Does that woman have no bounds? We are fully capable of making our own dinner!”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes. I'm starving.” Ava started to fork her spaghetti onto her garlic bread.

  “Then I don’t think we can complain about her this time. She kinda came through for us tonight don’t you think?”

  “Kinda.” Ava folded her bread over massive forkfuls of saucy noodles and took a big, wide open-mouth bite.

  “What are you doing?” I gawked at her.

  “I’m eating.” She said past a mouth full of food.

  “Yeah, like an animal. That’s not how you eat spaghetti.”

  “It’s a spaghetti sandwich and yes, this is how I eat spaghetti. And listen to you all high and mighty. Need I remind you that we are eating our dinner in our bedroom, in our underwear, on our bed!”

  “Touché. You got me. You think we should head down to the dining room and eat like a civilized couple?”

  “No!” she said over another full mouth of food and slurped up a lingering noodle, splashing bits of sauce over her face and mine.

  “Good God! Is this how you eat in public? Remind me never to take you out to an Italian restaurant.”

  “I’m hungry and I am pregnant so back off!”

  “Okay, okay.” I smiled brightly at her.

  “Your mom may have come through on the food tonight. But Ari, you have to have a talk with her. She's driving me nutty.”

  “What did she do besides rat you out to me about your anxiety attack?”

  “Ari! She ironed our bed sheets! Who does that?”

  “Aggie Alexander does that.”

  “Our bed sheets need to be off limits to your mother. And the bed too. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you anymore.”

  Ava took another messy bite of her spaghetti sandwich.

  “What did the O.B. doctor say today?” I changed the subject away from my mother, knowing that that conversation could last the entire evening. “And how have you been feeling?”

  I had been harboring a feeling of disconnect with Ava and her pregnancy. With my demanding work schedule, I had been able to get to only one of her appointments. I had seen see our tiny blimp of a baby on the screen when Ava was twenty weeks along in the pregnancy. The whooshing, thumping murmur of our child’s heartbeat filled the otherwise silent room as Ava and I stared in shock and overt awe. The feeling was surreal, a sort of panic set up shop in my mind and I have yet to completely lose it. I had been a father to Max for several months, but this baby introduced a whole new aspect of being a dad. Creating life is far too monumental a concept for me to wrap my head around. I felt scared.

  “I’m fine … really good.”

  “Have you been tired?” Ava’s health was number one on my list of fears. If I lost her, I couldn’t live on without her.

  “Not lately, no.”

  “Any new updates I should know about?” I rubbed down the length of her growing tummy. She was now twenty-eight weeks along in the pregnancy. In twelve weeks we would be able to hold our new baby in our arms. Ava’s bump was growing more round by the day and a hint of a tan line stretched from her rib cage all the way down her bump past her pelvis.

  She shook her head from side to side. “Uh, let’s see … The baby gets hiccups all the time now.”

  “What? Hiccups -- no way!”

  “Yes, way!”

  “What does that feel like?”

  “Weird.” Her nose crinkled again like a bunny.

  “Anything else I should know? When’s the next appointment? Maybe I can make it.”

  “The twenty-sixth.”

  Fashion week. I cringed inwardly, knowing I would miss that appointment, too.

  “The doctor is sending home birthing videos. She said we need to watch them together to get a firm idea as to what to expect.”

  “Gross -- there’s no way I am watching those.”

  “Ari!” Ava shoved an elbow into my ribcage. “Be serious or I won’t let you in the delivery room with me.”

  “You wouldn’t dare keep me out!”

  The curve of her mouth twisted into a firm authoritarian smile. “You wanna bet?”

  “Ok, ok, it’s a date, we’ll watch the videos. I’ll watch a million gross birthing videos if that’s what it takes to be there when our baby is born. There is nothing in the world that can keep me away from that moment in time. So what else, any new cravings?”

  She rolled her eyes at herself. “Hotdogs. Right now I think I could eat hotdogs for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”

  “Bleh. Hotdogs make me puke,” I admitted. “Every time I eat one, I puke my guts out.”

  “Ari, that’s so gross,” she said, and shoved the last big bite of her weird spaghetti and garlic bread sandwich into her already too full mouth.

  I cleared the plates from our bedroom, we scrubbed our faces and cleaned our teeth and fell asleep. Ava took up one side of my chest and Max curled back around and snuggled into my other arm. His sleep was interrupted again and again b
y night terrors that made him scream out in fear and cry in sadness. He still wouldn’t talk. Not a single word.