"Amen." Kirk lifted his beer bottle and clinked it against Hunter's.
Grant's smile turned into a full-fledged grin. "Well, uh, that's one reality check that may come sooner rather than later."
His pals hooted. "I knew it!" Kirk said.
"She's not pregnant yet," Grant hastened to add.
"Then you'll have to apply yourself a little more diligently," Hunter said with a smirk. "Stop working late so many nights. Stop trying so hard to make partner."
"Charli would kill me if she knew I'd spilled the beans," Grant fretted. "She wants to keep it private till it's a done deal. Don't tell Raven and Sunny!"
His friends laughed.
"I'm serious!"
"All right, all right," Kirk said. "We never heard a thing."
"This is a hundred and eighty degrees from the kind of marriage I thought I'd have," Grant said with a little smile, "the kind of marriage I carefully orchestrated for the sake of my career."
"You must've wanted to make partner pretty bad," Hunter said. Grant's obsessive desire to become a partner in his stuffy Wall Street law firm had been the driving force behind his original decision to marry Charli.
"Things have changed," Grant said. "My priorities have been completely turned around. I'd still like to make partner, but it's not the most important thing in my life anymore."
Charli was. He didn't have to say it.
"We weren't going to have children," Grant continued. "Well, I wasn't going to have children, and by the time Charli found out there'd be no kids, and no sex, it was our wedding night—too late for her to back out."
Kirk frowned. "You waited till you were married before telling her?"
"No, I thought she understood beforehand. It was a mix-up. My fault. I knew she was getting a raw deal, but for the longest time I stuck to my guns, stubborn son of a bitch that I am—denying my feelings and rejecting her love." With a self-deprecating smile he told Kirk, "So take it from me, there are worse things than knowing that some things are out of your control."
"But even when Charli thought she'd never have children with you," Kirk said, "she stuck it out. To Sunny, having a family is everything. As much as you wanted to make partner—that's how she feels about marrying the right guy and raising a houseful of kids. It's all she's ever wanted."
Hunter spoke up. "But you and Sunny already have Ian. I thought you said she was close to him."
"She adores Ian. And he adores her. But it's not the same as having her own."
"There's always adoption."
"I don't think she'd consider it," Kirk said miserably. "It's not part of her plan, what she's been waiting her whole life for."
"I don't know," Grant said. "If it turns out I'm shooting blanks or something—if I can't give Charli children—I'll feel lousy, of course, but speaking as a matrimonial lawyer, I've gotta tell you, it's the husband and wife who form the foundation of a family. The strength of their union, their teamwork, will make or break it. Just look at all those couples who stay together 'for the sake of the children.' Everyone ends up miserable when there's no underlying structure to support the family. It's like putting up drywall without this." He slapped the wooden framework of the wall they were building.
"I've gotta agree," Hunter said. "Get the right two people together and you can overcome almost any obstacle."
"I thought Sunny was the right one for me. But I have a feeling this is one obstacle that can't be overcome." Kirk glanced at Hunter. "You're right, she was aloof last night. Like it was some kind of chore just spending time in my company. I don't know why she's still seeing me." He sighed raggedly. "I'm going to let her go—pull the plug on the whole thing now."
Hunter and Grant exchanged a look that Kirk couldn't decipher. "Don't be so quick to call it quits," Grant said.
"What's the point of prolonging it? It's obvious that to her, we're already history."
Hunter drained his beer, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I think I have a handle on what you're going through, Kirk. I know what it's like to feel as if you have no control over your life." Dryly he added, "Looking at the engagement ring your brother bought for the woman you love will do that to you. There was a time when it looked like Raven was destined to be my sister-in-law, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. Almost drove me out of my mind. And if you want to feel lower than pond scum, try sleeping with the woman your brother's set on marrying. That'll do the trick."
"But things worked out for you and Raven," Kirk said.
"They almost didn't. I felt so damn guilty for betraying Brent, I bolted. Hightailed it to Vermont and didn't tell anyone where I was going. Figured I was just in the way back home, messing things up for the happy couple."
Kirk snorted in derision. "You ran away when you should've stayed and fought for the woman you loved, come hell or high water."
"Like you're doing?"
Kirk's beer bottle stopped halfway to his mouth. "It's not the same thing. And anyway, I'm not going anywhere. Here I am and here I'll stay. For all the good it'll do me."
"That attitude isn't going to win her back," Grant said.
Kirk ran his fingers through his sweat-damp hair. "Sunny knows how I feel about her. What more can I do?"
"You mean, besides passively sitting by while she convinces herself she's better off without you?" Grant asked.
"Letting her stew in her own resentment?" Hunter added. "Day after day?"
"I can't force Sunny to love me," Kirk snapped. Grant laughed. "She already loves you! That woman's loved you for twelve years, you idiot!"
Kirk dropped his head in his hands. "Sometimes love's not enough."
Hunter said, "'You should've fought for the woman you loved.' Seems to me I heard those words recently."
"'Come hell or high water,'" Grant added. "I heard that, too. I believe it came from that pitiful specimen hanging his head over here."
Kirk looked at his friends. "Why is it so important that I not break up with Sunny? What is it that you're not telling me?"
Their look of studied innocence didn't fool him for a second, but it was clear that whatever intrigue was brewing, Kirk wouldn't get to the bottom of it today.
Besides, they were right. He wasn't going to win Sunny back by sitting around feeling sorry for himself.
Kirk had been scolded enough for one day. He came to his feet. "Let's get the rest of that drywall up."
* * *
Chapter 9
«^»
From her lounging spot on a plastic lawn chair, Sunny watched the back door of Charli's parents' house swing open. She watched Charli elbow past the screen door, carrying a hammered aluminum tray laden with hot dog and hamburger buns, mustard, ketchup, pickle relish and sauerkraut. Sunny waited for her to notice what Amanda was doing to Charli's grandmother.
"I hope I have enough—" Charli broke off with a gasp. Two packs of hot dog buns slid off the tray onto the grass. "What are you doing to Nonni?"
"Shh!" Amanda dipped the little brush into the bottle of nail polish. "You'll wake her."
Amanda had pulled the picnic bench in front of the cushioned lawn chair where Charli's grandmother was enthroned, her head tipped back, snoring like a handsaw. The well-padded ninety-three-year-old matriarch of the Rossi family was clad in her usual plain black dress, her iron-gray hair yanked back into a high bun, her yamlike legs ending in sensible black shoes that dangled a couple of inches above the grass.
Amanda was painting Mrs. Rossi's stubby fingernails from a tiny bottle labeled Siren Song, an eye-popping shade of frosted coral somewhere on the chromatic scale between slut fuchsia and working-girl orange. Amanda started in on the other hand, and Mrs. Rossi mumbled something in Italian, still sound asleep.
"No no no no no!" Charli whined, dumping the tray on the picnic table and rushing to Amanda. "You can't do that!"
Amanda ignored her friend's outburst. "Translate for me. Is she having a sexy dream?"
Charli's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Nonn
i said, 'When I wake up, I'm going to get my good friend Dominic "the Dentist" Giacopetti to do a little oral surgery on the no-good tramp making me look like a—'"
"I know, like a no-good tramp." Amanda leaned in close to Mrs. Rossi's plump fingers, propped on the armrest of her chair. "Does she really know guys like that?"
Sunny raised her hand, shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight. She grinned. "How badly do you want to find out?"
"You don't understand!" Charli hissed. "Nonni never wears cosmetics of any kind. She'll have a heart attack when she sees this." She wheeled on Sunny and Raven, calmly basking in the sun. "How could you let her do this?"
Raven chuckled. "Since when has anyone ever been able to stop Amanda from doing anything?"
"That color!" Charli groaned, slumping onto the bench next to Amanda.
"What's wrong with it?" Amanda tilted her head, regarding her work appraisingly. "I think it looks nice on her."
"Is it too much to hope you brought some polish remover, too?"
"Why would I schlepp around polish remover?"
"Great. I know for a fact there's none in the house." Charli stared balefully at her friend. "Back when Nonni was in the hospital for that angioplasty, I asked her if she'd like me to put a little clear polish on her nails. I thought it would cheer her up to be pampered. Do you know what she said?"
Amanda bent low to do the pinkie nail. "She said, 'Can that clear crap, I want me some dragon-lady press-ons!'"
"Yeah, right. Nonni scowled down her nose at me and said she'd never worn paint in her life and she wasn't going to start now." Charli gestured toward her grandmother's vivid manicure. "And look what you've done! The shock will put her back in the hospital for sure."
Raven said, "I don't think your grandmother is quite that fragile, Charli."
Like Sunny and Raven, Amanda had known Mrs. Rossi since she was five. During their school years and into adulthood, the girls had spent a lot of time at Charli's parents' house, sharing big Italian dinners, sleep-over parties and Charli's grandmother, who treated them all like members of the family. A lifelong confidante, Mrs. Rossi was the only person aside from Hunter and Grant who knew about the Wedding Ring the girls had established in their senior year of high school.
Despite the occasional acerbic exchange between Mrs. Rossi and the outspoken, twice-divorced Amanda, Sunny knew that deep down, Mrs. Rossi was as fond of her as she was of the others.
Amanda dropped the bottle of nail polish into her purse, lying at her feet. She blew lightly on the old woman's fingertips, causing her to jerk in her sleep. Charli clutched her chest.
Sunny pushed herself out of her chair and headed for the barbecue grill. "I bet those coals are ready." They were. "The hot dogs can go on last." As she placed spicy Italian sausages and thick burger patties on the grill, she asked, "Will someone set the table?"
"I'm already on it," Raven said, as she counted out paper plates.
Charli's grandmother snorted loudly and shifted in her chair. All eyes swung to her. Sunny knew she wasn't the only one holding her breath.
Mrs. Rossi opened her eyes, blinking against the sunlight. Glancing around, she took note of the four young women all staring at her. "Mmm, something smells good. That butcher in Lynbrook, he make the best salciccia. Deliziosa!" A gnat buzzed her face and absently she swatted it away. A funny little sound escaped Charli. Her grandmother, however, appeared oblivious to the beauty treatment she'd received while nestled in the arms of Morpheus.
"Um, Nonni…" Charli wore a weak smile. "You know, Amanda's such a kidder, heh heh. She did this silly thing—"
"She better not be silly when it's her turn for a husband!" Mrs. Rossi barked in her thick Italian accent. Sunny tried not to stare at the coral-tipped finger she wagged at Amanda. "Due divorzi! È un disonore!"
"I believe we've been over this ground before," Amanda responded in bored tones. "Marriage and I don't mix." To her friends she added, "I'm not going to go along with any matchmaking, so don't even bother trying."
"But we all agreed!" Charli said.
"We agreed back when we were dumb little teenagers with no life experience." Amanda rummaged in her purse and came up with a pair of designer sunglasses, which she slid onto her nose. "One thing my two strolls down the aisle have taught me is that I don't need a man's ring on my finger to find fulfillment. Sometimes it even gets in the way."
Amanda's remark about fulfillment struck a little close to home, being the exact opposite of the philosophy Sunny had adhered to for so long. Amanda was a successful business owner, the publisher of a popular and lucrative children's magazine. She'd studied journalism at Cornell University and started her own publication on a shoestring within five years of graduating. Her career gave her enormous satisfaction. Sunny, in comparison, came off as a real loser, the "resident underachiever," as she'd once described herself to Kirk.
Over the years, Sunny had toyed with the idea of taking courses at a local college, not toward a degree necessarily, but just for her personal enjoyment and to learn more about subjects that interested her. She'd always been fascinated by local Long Island history, for example.
And archaeology. One of her regulars at the diner had told her about a program through Garrison University in which laypeople got to excavate an ancient Native American site located in a state park. The idea of doing that sort of work had fired her imagination, but Sunny had never thought of herself as the kind of person who did such things. She was just a high school graduate, after all, biding her time until she achieved her ultimate goal of a husband and children.
That was the niche she'd placed herself in, but she had to admit, the niche had grown confining over the years. Nowhere in her limited self-definition was there room for intellectual curiosity or mental challenge.
And why shouldn't there be? If her experience with Kirk had given her nothing else of worth, at least he'd forced her to admit that her longtime goal was not incompatible with personal fulfillment. She could—and should—have both. Tomorrow she'd call Garrison and request a catalog of continuing education courses. With any luck, she'd still be able to register for the fall semester.
"Little bird," Mrs. Rossi said, calling Raven by her pet name for her. "You're three months along, sì? But so flat still! Where is that bambino?"
Raven pressed her hands to her middle, outlining the gentle mound hiding under her low-waisted sundress. "It's there, Mrs. Rossi. And getting bigger every day."
"You make sure you eat. These doctors nowadays, not letting the mamas gain enough weight. Ridicolo! What do they know?"
During this tirade, Mrs. Rossi gesticulated like the Italian she was, those hot coral fingernails flashing in the sunlight. Sunny's heart couldn't stand it. She had to look away.
Observing the progress of Raven's pregnancy was a bittersweet experience for Sunny. She was happy for her friend, happy that she'd found the man she was meant to share her life with, happy that they were soon to be blessed with their first child. But at the same time, Raven's experience highlighted all that had gone disastrously wrong in Sunny's life.
She turned to her friends. "I have to stop seeing Kirk." She didn't have to say why. They all knew what she'd found out about him three days earlier.
Charli adopted a mulish expression. Of the four of them, she took their matchmaking pact the most to heart. It was a sacred vow, in her view, one not to be treated lightly. Amanda and Raven, and even Mrs. Rossi, looked like they'd expected this move.
"Now, hear me out," Sunny said. "I know I'm supposed to stick with it for a whole three months, but you can't hold me to that. Not after what I've learned."
"I don't see that that changes anything," Charli said.
"It doesn't change anything?" Sunny flipped hamburgers with unnecessary zeal. "I went into that relationship under false pretenses! He deceived me! That automatically invalidates the deal."
"Show me that in the rule book," Amanda drawled.
"There is no rule book," Sunny retor
ted.
Amanda shrugged.
"You know," Raven said, "it really doesn't matter that Kirk was concealing the truth. He's the man we picked, so he's the man you're obligated to date for the required period of time, false pretenses or no."
"Unless he calls it off," Amanda said. "Has he?"
"No. Not yet."
Charli said, "And no fair trying to make him do it."
"Another one of those convenient rules we never agreed on?" Amanda asked.
"What?" Charli turned to Amanda. "You want her to be able to squirm out of it?"
"Not me." Amanda held up her hands. "Make up all the rules you want."
Raven said, "I was the first one to try to squirm out of it, you know. When Brent took my unwillingness to sleep with him as an excuse to cheat on me."
"And I defended you!" Sunny gestured with the spatula she held. "I said that since you had a relationship with Hunter, you shouldn't have to stick it out with his brother."
"Only I didn't have a relationship with Hunter at that point," Raven said. "His strong sense of family loyalty wouldn't allow it. What I'm saying is, you guys didn't let me off the hook. You knew things had to run their course. You knew it would all work out in the end."
"Not me," Amanda said. "I figured it was a losing proposition all around."
Raven turned to Amanda. "You know, you don't always have to say what's on your mind."
"Oh, okay, I'll try to exercise a little restraint," Amanda said, deadpan, before cracking up at the absurdity of the notion.
Charli glanced at her grandmother's startling manicure. "Nonni, I, uh, want to tell you something so it doesn't come as too much of a surprise."
"I know." The old woman gestured airily. "You and Grant, you're trying to make a bambino."
Charli gaped at her. "How did you know that? Did Grant tell you?"
"No one has to tell Luisa Rossi." She pointed to her own eye. "She sees. She sees how you and your handsome husband look at each other when you're around your little twin grandnieces. You think after ninety-three years your old Nonni doesn't know the signs?"
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