by DD Prince
We were all crying again.
Tommy walked into the kitchen and made an immediate U-turn and left us in our crying huddle.
He knew what my intentions were with this dinner so he probably wasn’t at all surprised.
The dinner was filled with good food, laughing, good-natured teasing, and kids running around, my dog getting spoiled, and it felt really great to spend the evening with my family.
Almost Six Months Later
My pregnancy was ticking along nicely. Uneventfully. I was eating a lot, keeping busy getting ready for the baby. I spent a lot of time with my sisters-in-law and my foster sisters and Rose regularly came over.
I’d even started going out by myself. Sort of. Tommy had a guard with me every time but I was driving. Walking. Doing things. I was driving my jeep, taking my no-longer little dog for walks, going to pregnancy yoga, hanging out with the family, and I was living.
Tommy was busy working. Ferrano Enterprises was keeping him busy. The business was still evolving but in a good way. He had gone to Vegas twice. Without me. Fete was nearly ready to re-open. Maybe someday I’d go back but not any time soon.
I was also seeing a counselor every second week. I’d seen her about five times and she was fantastic and helping me. Tommy had yet to start seeing a new one but I’d gotten a referral from my counselor and he told me he’d call. He said he needed to fire his existing counselor first. In person. And the look on his face? If he was planning some sort of revenge against Oliver, I didn’t wanna know about it. Tommy’s mantra was that if someone fucked him over, he never forgot. I hoped he’d forget. Even if Oliver was a lying Fed, he’d helped us.
Anyway, I was due to have the baby in a few weeks. The baby’s room was ready. We didn’t find out the gender (I wanted a surprise) and did the bedroom in primary colors. I had a gorgeous white sleigh crib with matching rocking chair, dresser, and changing table.
I’d had a baby shower already and we were ready with all sorts of white, green, and yellow unisex clothing. I had a going-home outfit for a boy and a going-home outfit for a girl. My hospital bag was by the door. My husband loved to work out with boxing and I was pretty sure that this little one was going to be a little kickboxer with the way I was getting beaten up from the inside.
***
“Tia?” Tommy woke me. It was 6:00 in the morning, a week before my due date.
“Hm?”
“Wake up, baby girl. Gotta talk to you.”
I sat up.
He held me close to his chest.
“I just got a call from the lawyer assigned to your father. He’s… baby, he’s dead.”
“He’s what?”
“Greg O’Connor was found dead in his cell. His lawyer just called.”
I jumped up to standing.
“You removed his protection and---” I started to accuse.
“I didn’t. I never did.”
“You didn’t?” Tears streamed down my face. My heart was aching.
“I had nothing to do with this, baby girl. I swear. I don’t know how it happened. We still had those protective measures in place.”
Dad.
All I could think was, “I’m an orphan at twenty years old.”
Our baby will have zero grandparents.
Zero.
“They’re saying it looks like a suicide.”
***
They cremated him. I never saw him dead. I was glad I hadn’t seen it at least; I didn’t think I could take seeing him on a slab.
We had a service at a cemetery for my Dad. Dare, Angel, Lisa, Tessa, Luc, Eddy, Bianca and Nino plus her Mom and her aunt. Ruby, her brother Connor, Beth, Mia, Rose and Cal, Rose’s parents, they all came. Even Susie, my former social worker came. They all tried to be there for me. I left a voicemail for my Aunt Carol with the details after calling three times and her not answering, not returning my calls. I hated to leave it on her voicemail but she wasn’t answering.
She didn’t come.
I was almost nine months pregnant at my dad’s grave. And it hit me hard. But Tommy was holding me up, taking care of me. He was amazing.
A week later, I was in bed, watching TV in the dark. During the day. The curtains were closed.
“You gonna get outta bed?” Tommy asked, moving the box of Sugar Crisp to the nightstand and then opening the curtains.
“Worried I’m gonna commit suicide? Evidently, it’s what the O’Connors do.”
“Not fuckin’ funny. And you’re no longer an O’Connor. You’re a Ferrano. You’ve been in bed for days. Let’s go do something. Time to live, baby girl.”
I shrugged, “I’m not suicidal, Tommy. Don’t worry. If I were, it’d make me a murderer, too.” I put my hand to my belly. I’d never ever harm our baby.
“Get dressed. Let’s go for a drive.”
“Where?”
“The mall, the park, I don’t know. Out of this house.”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
He walked into the adjoining bathroom and I heard water turn on.
“Now, wife. Outta bed.” He lifted me up and carried me into the bathroom. He was running me a bath.
“You’re pretty strong, carrying a woman the size of two houses,” I grumbled.
“Good thing I work out,” he teased.
“Out then.”
“I’ll take one, too. Then we go out.”
“Out of here. You can’t see me naked. I’m gross.”
“You aren’t gross. I’ll wash your hair?”
“You saying my hair is dirty?”
He shook his head and laughed, “No. I’m not. You like when I wash your hair, baby girl.”
He was right. I really did.
“You haven’t seen me naked in a few weeks. My belly button is inside out. I have a brown line down my stomach. My butt looks like a tub of cottage cheese. Out. I’ve gained forty-four pounds.”
“Athena Ferrano, you, my baby growing in you? You are the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on. I’m scared shitless of being a father but gotta say, I’m lovin’ seeing you like this. You’re beautiful, even if you gained two hundred pounds, you’re beautiful to me.”
I burst into tears. It wasn’t something new. I was always a crier, but my pregnancy? I cried the week before Dad died for half an hour because I’d seen some YouTube video of baby goats in pajamas jumping around. It was just so stinkin’ cute.
He laughed at me and then we took a bath. He washed my hair sweetly, and then he shaved my legs for me because I couldn’t reach. He wanted to get sexy but I said I was having none of it.
I told him he’d get arrested for bestiality if he had sex with me because I’d be mistaken for a beached whale. He laughed at me some more and then in our room, he insisted. He gave me oral sex while he jacked off until we both came pretty hard and beautifully, and then got dressed to go out.
The orgasm was just what I needed. I felt a lot lighter in my heart after that release.
We walked around the mall and we wound up in a baby store.
Tommy found a onesie with a Neapolitan ice cream cone on it. Of course we had to buy it. It even had a cherry on top. When we got home and pulled in, we saw that a UPS truck was outside the gate.
Tommy’s blood was boiling. It was written all over his face.
The truck pulled away and we saw it wasn’t Nick driving. There had, thankfully, been no sign of Nick. He obviously finally took the hint.
Tommy took the envelope from the gate guard and opened the envelope, felt to make sure it was just paper, I guess, smelled it, and then opened the inner envelope and inspected it just quickly. He handed it to me.
It was from Carol O’Connor, my aunt.
It had a sympathy card from her. It was just a standard Sorry for Your Loss card with flowers on the front and “Aunt Carol” written inside with a short note.
“Your father asked me to send this in the event of his death. Sorry for the wait. Feel free to call me, if you ever want to talk or visit. I’m sor
ry for not attending the funeral. It was too painful and hard on me.”
Was that her saying she was ready to have a relationship with me? Now that Dad was gone?
I threw the card in the trash bin. Hard on her? She could’ve been there for me. She didn’t have to take me in but she could’ve still been in my life. Now that dad was gone? I didn’t think so. And there was a note from Dad that was to be given to me in the event of his death and she just, what, sat on it for over a week? What a royal bitch.
I held an envelope that said Sweetpea on the outside.
I felt the tears well up in my eyes as I opened it.
“Tia:
If I die, it’s not suicide.
If you think long & hard, you’ll realize I’m too cowardly to take my own life. I’m also not that heartless to let you endure both parents having done that.
But make no mistake, if I die, which I guess I did since you’re reading this, it’s not that I did myself in but it is because it’s my fault. I’m reaping what I sowed. Your husband tried to protect me and I was blind.
I didn’t think he’d let me contact you. I might have been wrong. I used Nick to try to get to you, to get you to forgive me, but I don’t deserve your forgiveness. Or Tommy’s.
And Nick doesn’t deserve Tommy’s anger. I pushed + pushed and used his feelings for you to my advantage. I shouldn’t have done that.
I’m proud of you, sweet pea. You turned out amazing, no thanks to me. You are a beauty who is also smart, loyal, forgiving, and with a heart of gold. Your mother would’ve been proud of you, regardless of who you married, or what your husband does for a living.
As I write this, I hope I can tell my sister to throw it out one day, because I’ll get to have a relationship with you. If I ever get out of here.
Nick told me I’m gonna be a grampa. I hope I can be a good grampa to your little tyke or your little sweet pea. I bet I’d be a fun one if I got that chance. You’ll be a great mom. Love you sweet pea.
Love,
Dad
PS: Pls see the back of this note for my secret spice blend recipe that you loved so much. Your rendition was close but I added the secret ingredients you didn’t know about. Teach it to your kids. Cook with them. Good memories and all. I know you have at least some fun memories of me cooking with you. xo”
I crumpled into Tommy’s arms, the letter floating to the floor.
It was too late.
He put his arms around me and held me close.
“He was a lousy father,” I said.
He nodded, solemnly.
“It’s too late.”
“I know. He might’ve kept fucking up, kept disappointing you.”
“But he might’ve changed.”
“Aren’t you an optimist?”
“I guess so.”
“And it’s lucky for me that you are.” He kissed me.
“He probably would’ve been a fun grandpa.”
Tommy kissed my head.
“He gave me something amazing, though,” I said.
“Your eyes,” Tommy said.
I shook my head. “You. I know it was your father who orchestrated it but my father being who he was, that was part of it, too. I never thought I’d say it, but my Dad and your Dad, their history? All of it got me you. I love you so much, Tommy.”
Tommy squeezed me a teensy bit too tight, then, kissing me with so much emotion I felt it in my bones. He loved me. He wasn’t perfect. I wasn’t perfect, either. He was who he was. He was mine. My Ice Cream Parlor Hottie, my Dominator, my baby’s daddy, my hero, my husband. My forever.
Tommy
“Oh,” she got a weird look on her face.
“Oh?” I asked.
“Um, I think I either peed myself or maybe my uh… my water just broke.”
Oh shit.
Epilogue
Tommy
2 Weeks Later
Pop was who he was and because of that, and because of all I’d seen and done, I am the man I am today. It meant a lot of things, some of it bad, but not all of it. But, I was also who I was because of the way I lost my Ma. I was the sum total of my experiences, I guess. But my Pop being who he was and Greg O’Connor being who he was? The sum total of that meant that I met and married Tia. And made a family with her.
Maybe I’m a little more like my father than I’d wanna admit, but I could’ve been my Pop in so many other ways. He fell in love with Tia’s mother and she couldn’t take his darkness. In the end, he lost her. In the end, he lost everything. I wasn’t gonna let that happen. I counted myself lucky that he did or I wouldn’t have Tia. I counted myself lucky because not only did I have her but she was also able to withstand my shit. Not that I wanted to keep testing her like that.
I somehow escaped karma for the shit I pulled by getting the most beautiful girl in the world to fall in love with me and put up with all my bullshit. Or maybe karma gave her to me to make up for who I was born to, watching my Ma die, what I put up with as a little kid.
But karma clearly ain’t done with me yet. God saw fit to punish me for my sins by making me a father to a beautiful baby girl that's as breathtaking as her mother.
My eyes. Tia’s cupid’s bow mouth. Chubby cheeks and skin like peaches and cream. This tiny little baby? She takes my breath away. She makes my chest hurt. Strong little fists that clock me on a regular basis and she also has a strong set of lungs on her that keep us up half the night.
We named her Carina, which Tia wanted after finding out it means beloved. No, I never had a Carina in the past and even if I had, I wouldn’t say a word about it. I wouldn’t make that mistake twice.
She didn’t get a middle name. With a name like that, she doesn’t need one. I didn’t want her to have to live up to anyone else’s ideals by being named after anyone we know.
Some people name their kids for their loved ones out of respect. Or, like my father, they name them after themselves with some high hopes that their kids will live up to. We just want her to be who she is gonna be.
And I pray that she’s gonna wanna be a nun. My karma? She’ll be a drop dead gorgeous race car driver or stunt woman so that I live out the rest of my days downing antacids and drowning in stress.
Tia said she doesn’t even wanna think about when she’s old enough to date. I’ll probably drop dead. I said I’d hang the first fucker that came sniffing around from a tree on the front lawn as a warning to scare the others away, for fuck sakes.
Where was I with my demons? My existential crisis?
I'd given up my birthright as heir to the dirtiest parts of my father’s not-so-legal empire, but I was still a man and had come to the conclusion that, yes, I wanted to be a man my daughter would look up to.
I would never put my kids in the position Pop put us in. I’d never put Tia in the position Greg put her in. But the man I am, it meant holding onto just enough of the world Pop bequeathed to make sure I wasn’t powerless. I had enough power to take down my enemies and protect what belongs to me.
Tia
The cradle in our room was empty. My heart dropped but then my gaze moved to the bed and I could see Tommy cuddled up with our sleeping baby on the bed. He was on his side, shirtless and sockless, wearing a pair of track pants. She was cradled against his chest, his hand supporting her back. He was looking at her little sleeping face, an expression on his face that I couldn’t describe other than to say that seeing his face like that? I was growing more and more in love with him than I had ever been.
Seeing him, gorgeous with that messy hair, five o’clock shadow, and whisky eyes, how he looked at our newborn daughter who was held close to the tattoo he’d inked on himself to promise to keep trying to be worthy of love? I felt so lucky. He looked at her like she was a miracle. She was. Our miracle.
Babies were born every single second around the world but this little girl was our world. He’d wrap her up in pink blankets only, even though we had so many others. He’d stare at her for hours. He would give her anything i
n the world she wanted. I knew that last part just by watching how he was with her.
And since bringing her into the world, he looked at me with more light in his eyes, more love and yet even more possessiveness than ever.
We had a very hard time with my labor. My water broke, but 22 hours later I still wasn’t dilating and they were worried about infection.
Tommy was a wreck because they’d given me an epidural, but then my labor went on so long that it wore off and they didn’t get me another one before the pain started.
They’d been inducing me for many hours so my pain was extreme. He hated to see me crying and he was very verbal about this to the nurses and doctors until a nurse that was built like a bodybuilder crossed with an army tank got in his face and threatened to remove him from the maternity unit with security. He was about to freak out some more but I pleaded with him to just hold my hand and stay close.
“I can’t bear to do this without you.”
Our 7-pound baby girl was delivered by C-section as Tommy held my hand and sang Etta James to me to calm me down when I had a flip-out because I couldn’t feel my legs due to the spinal block before surgery.
