by Jo Leigh
She loved coming here, to walk on the long, winding path that skirted the ocean, to watch the people and marvel at how crazy Los Angelinos really were. She hoped the guy who juggled jigsaws would be there. That was something they’d have to see to believe.
She found a good spot and pulled her car in, then locked it and headed for the restaurant. This meal would surely be more successful than dinner had been last night. She doubted Nick would push her, not with Theresa on her side. Her goal was to get to know his family a bit, to see what kind of relatives they were going to make for the baby. Even if she didn’t many Nick, Angelina was going to be her child’s grandmother. It struck her that no matter what, her life was now and forever entwined with this man’s. Nothing would change that. Not love, not marriage, not anything. Unless, of course, they chose to close her and the baby out.
She thought about Mona and the tenuous connection they had. Her mother had never been terribly demonstrative, had never really participated in her life, except where she’d had to. And when Jessica went to college, Mona had moved on to Colorado to lead the life she’d wanted, instead of the life she’d been obligated to.
Who was to say Nick’s family wouldn’t do the same thing? Politely yet firmly inform her that while the baby was to be included in their lives, she wasn’t necessary?
That thought chilled her, and she had to struggle to smile when she saw Nick outside the restaurant, waving her over.
“Come,” he said, “we have a table.”
She met him at the door, and he leaned down to kiss her cheek. The small gesture felt intimate yet familiar, as if they’d greeted each other this way a hundred times. Then she felt his arm circle her waist, and he led her through the airy dining room to a table in the back.
She was struck again at how lovely Nick’s mother was. Dressed in a pale yellow silk T-shirt and slacks, she looked cool, comfortable and elegant all at the same time. She could imagine Angelina on the Riviera, sipping champagne on her yacht.
Jessica wished she’d worn something else. She’d chosen leggings and a cotton tunic, simple, easy to wear and plain as white toast.
Theresa also looked gorgeous in a blue sundress, her long dark hair held back with a matching scarf. God, what was she doing with these people? They were Europe and sophistication, and she was L.A. and Target specials.
But Angelina held her arms out, and Jessica walked into the fold. This time, Angelina didn’t give air kisses. This time she gave a hug, a real one. A genuine smile. A welcome.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Angelina said.
Theresa waited for her mother to let go, then she moved to Jessica to give her own embrace. “I’m just glad you didn’t let my brother run you off. I tell you, he’s more trouble than he’s worth.”
“Hey,” Nick said, smiling broadly. “I’m worth twice the trouble.”
Theresa shook her head and gave Jessica a conspiratorial wink. “Good thing he’s not an egotist, eh?”
Jessica nodded. “Right.” She hugged her once more as she whispered, “Thank you for last night.”
“It was nothing. He would have figured it out eventually. I just gave him a shortcut.”
Nick held Jessica’s seat for her, and then did the same for Angelina. Once they were all settled, Jessica watched the interplay between the three of them as she pretended to look at the menu.
Nick touched his sister’s arm, then her hand. She smiled at him with such affection that Jessica couldn’t help but feel jealous. She’d longed for a sister her whole life. Was it possible that she was finally going to have one?
Even if she did marry Nick, there was no guarantee that she would be welcomed into this family, and she’d better remember that. They were all on their best behavior now. But how happy could they really be, having this American nobody suddenly turn up pregnant? She would wager there were any number of Italian women who were going to be mighty upset when they discovered that Nick was off the market.
But Angelina and Theresa were certainly not going to let on that they were disappointed in her. Not yet, at least.
“Jessica?”
She turned to Nick, getting the feeling that he’d been trying to talk to her for a while. “Yes?”
He jerked his head toward the waiter who was standing by her side.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Just some tea and toast, please.”
“That’s all?” Angelina said. “That’s no breakfast. You’re eating for two now, darling.”
Jessica really wasn’t hungry, and nothing appealed. But she didn’t want to cause a fuss. “Okay,” she said to the waiter. “Two scrambled eggs, well done, please.”
The waiter nodded and then left. They must have all ordered before her. She couldn’t hide behind the menu any longer, and she found that she was nervous. More nervous, for some reason, than last night. Perhaps she’d had too much time to contemplate who she was with, and what this was all about.
“So, Jessica,” Angelina said, “tell us about your family. Nick has told us nothing.”
“That’s not his fault,” she said. “I haven’t told him much.”
“You’re from Los Angeles?” Theresa asked.
Jessica nodded. “Yes. My parents were both born here. I didn’t know my father, so I can’t tell you much about his background, but my mother’s family originally came from Ireland. They came to the States about three generations ago. My grandparents were the first to settle on the West Coast, though.”
“And your mother, she’s here with you?”
“No. She lives in Colorado.”
“She must have been so thrilled when she heard the good news!” Angelina said.
Jessica debated her answer. If she told them Mona’s real response, they’d be shocked, she knew that. But did she want to start this whole relationship with a lie? “Actually, my mother and I aren’t very close,” she said. “We only speak a couple of times a year. When I told her about the baby, she wasn’t particularly interested.”
Angelina looked at Nick with such shock that Jessica wished she had lied. She wanted to explain that it wasn’t her fault, that Mona was just Mona, and not like other people. But she held her tongue. Better Nick’s family understood from the get-go that she didn’t come from a warm, fuzzy home, that Mona was more like a distant cousin than a June Cleaver mom.
“I don’t understand,” Angelina said. “She wasn’t interested?”
Jessica shook her head. “My mother is a little unusual,” she said. “She’s never felt very bound by family ties.”
Angelina gave Nick a look Jessica didn’t understand—sharp, almost angry. Then she turned to Jessica with a warm smile. “We are very bound to family ties,” she said. “And now you’re part of our family.”
Jessica’s hand went to her stomach. “Thank you,” she said. “I know that you’ll all care very much for the baby.”
“The baby? Of course, but the mother, too.”
Jessica held her breath for a second. How she longed to believe that. When her gaze turned to Nick, she saw that he was looking at her with that same sort of confused affection as his mother. As if he didn’t quite understand who he’d gotten himself involved with.
“You didn’t tell me,” Nick said.
“What?”
“About your mother.”
She shook her head. “It didn’t seem very important.”
“I don’t understand, Jessica. She can’t possibly be as disinterested as you say. You’re her daughter. This is her grandchild.”
“You don’t know Mona. Don’t look so glum. It’s not a tragedy.”
“Yes, I think it is.”
She smiled, appreciating his concern, yet feeling embarrassed, too. “Thanks. But I have Jeff and the guys at work. They’re like family. They certainly butt in like family.”
“Jeff, he’s the tall one?” Theresa asked.
“That’s right. He’s like a brother to me. We’ve known each other for years and years.”
“Well, that’
s something,” Angelina said, although she didn’t seem pleased. “Ah, the food. I’m starving.”
Jessica’s gaze went back to Nick as the waiter served. He still looked upset. She reached over and took his hand in hers. “Please don’t worry about it,” she said. “It’s not a problem.”
“You should have told me, Jessica.”
“Why? That wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“Maybe I could have helped.”
“That’s sweet, Nick, but there’s nothing you can do to change my mother.”
He shook his head as if there was only a limited amount of clue in the world, and she hadn’t gotten her share. “I could have helped you, cara. You wouldn’t have had to deal with her alone.”
That stopped her. Doing it alone was the only way she knew. There hadn’t been anyone, ever, to lean on. Oh, she had Jeff and Stan and to some degree Alan and Paul, but she never had shared the really tough stuff with them. Not until after she’d figured out what to do. They all supported her, and cared about her, but when it came down to brass tacks, she’d always flown solo. She wasn’t even sure she could share like that. It wasn’t something she’d thought about since she was a young girl.
Back then, she’d wished for a sister or brother, someone who could help her along the way, but when that dream died, so did the idea of asking for help. Mona always told her she’d have to live with the consequences of her actions, so she’d better be damn sure she made her choices for herself.
Even now, with this momentous decision before her, it had never occurred to her to ask anyone for help. If she married Nick, it would be because she’d weighed the pros and cons and concluded that marriage was the best possible course. That system had worked very well, and she saw no reason to change things now.
Not that she didn’t like the idea of having someone to confide in, to share her fears and her hopes with, but she also knew that was a sentimental notion. When it came to the really hard choices, there wasn’t room for sentimentality. She’d learned that the hard way.
“What are you thinking?” Nick asked.
She realized she’d been staring at him for a long while. “Nothing,” she said. “Just daydreaming.”
“Your eggs are getting cold.”
She turned to her plate. Her stomach rebelled, however, and she quickly averted her gaze. She grabbed a piece of dry toast and nibbled on it, willing the morning sickness away.
“Tell me about Nick,” she said, turning to Angelina. “What was he like as a boy?”
Angelina smiled. “Ah, now, there’s a topic.”
“Wait a minute,” Nick said. “I’m not sure I like this.”
“It’s too late, Nicolo,” Theresa said. “We’re going to tell her all your secrets.”
“No, not that! Not all of them. I still want her to like me after breakfast.”
Angelina laughed. “Don’t worry, darling, I won’t tell her everything. Yet.” She winked at Jessica. “But I will tell you what he did at Christmastime when he was ten.”
Nick groaned. Jessica leaned forward, anxious to hear all about him as a boy. He must have been so beautiful. He probably got away with murder because of it.
“Nick was always encouraged to work to earn money, even from the time he was a boy. If he wanted something, he had to figure out a way to pay for it on his own.” Angelina sipped her coffee, keeping her gaze on Jessica over the rim. “The Christmas when he was ten, he wanted to buy some very expensive things, and even though he worked for his father, running errands, doing chores, he clearly didn’t feel that it was the most efficient way to earn his money.”
Nick shook his head. “I have no idea what she’s talking about,” he said. “I was a perfect child.”
Theresa burst out laughing. “Perfect? You were a little monster!”
“Only to you, because you were such a marmocchio.”
“What’s that?”
Theresa laughed. “He means I was a brat.”
Jessica laughed. “Go on,” she said. “Don’t stop now.”
“On Christmas Eve morning, we were awakened by a loud knock on the door. It was very early, maybe four o’clock. Nick’s father and I got out of bed, scared to death. Who should be on the steps? Nicolo and two policemen!”
“What did he do?”
“He went swimming.” Angelina laughed. “He was soaking wet, shivering, without shoes.”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Nick said, unable to keep the smile from his lips, although Jessica could see he was trying. “I only did it because I wanted to buy you a present.”
“What?” Jessica asked, although she had an idea. “Where was he swimming?”
“The Trevi Fountain is where,” Angelina said. “He’d gotten up in the middle of the night and taken a pillowcase with him. He climbed down from his window. He didn’t even take a coat, and it was very, very cold. The police found him stuffing the coins into the pillowcase. He’d nearly cleared out the whole fountain!”
“No.” She looked at Nick and shook her head. “You really thought you could get away with that?”
Nick, his face tinged with pink, sat up very straight. “It was perfectly legitimate. I made a wish, and it would have come true, if not for the police.”
“What, you wished for all the money in the fountain?”
“That’s right. I just decided to help it along a bit.”
Jessica couldn’t keep from laughing. She could picture it all so easily. How angry he must have been to have his plan thwarted.
“He was furious,” Theresa said. “Outraged. The police didn’t arrest him, but only because Papa talked them out of it. And they made him pay, didn’t they, Nicolo?”
“They were unfair. Horrible.”
“Not so horrible,” Angelina said. “He had to go every night for a month and help clear the coins from the fountain, and then count all the money.”
“They worked me like a slave,” he said.
“Poor guy,” Jessica said. “It must have been hell.”
“I had a cold, too. But they didn’t care.”
“You were sick because you went into the fountain in the middle of winter!” Angelina said. “What did you expect?”
“I expected it to work.”
Jessica leaned back, listening to the laughter of this family. There was such joy, such affection in the sound, that it made her throat tighten. To be a part of this, to be one of them, would really be something. Maybe it was too late for her to learn to share, but it wouldn’t be for her child. No matter what happened, she wanted her baby to know this sound. To feel this warmth, this intimacy. And maybe, if she were very lucky, she could feel like she belonged, too.
JESSICA TRIED HARD not to listen to Nick’s phone call. The unexpected rush of emotions had come from nowhere and had caught her completely off guard. What she didn’t understand was why she was feeling this way at all.
Maybe it was just because she was tired from all the sightseeing, or edgy from being with Nick’s family. There really wasn’t a logical explanation. After all, she’d known Nick was a pilot from the first day. She’d liked the fact that he was well traveled. She knew he loved his job, and that he would continue to fly until he was too old to sit in the cockpit. None of this was news. So why was she feeling this way, just because he was planning his next flight?
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as she filled her teakettle with water. This pregnancy was making her nuts. Of course it was just her hormones going crazy. Why else would she be so emotional? It wasn’t as if she’d expected Nick to change jobs just because she was going to have a baby. For heaven’s sake, lots of pilots had children, and they all seemed to get along fine.
But if she hadn’t expected him to quit, why did she feel so betrayed?
She put the kettle on the stove and turned on the burner. Maybe she hadn’t expected it—but she had hoped. Somewhere in the recesses of her hormone-riddled brain, she’d hoped that Nick would realize that his job
would take him away from her and the baby, and that he wouldn’t want that to happen. Right. Was she nuts? It wasn’t sensible. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t logical. Yep, she must be nuts.
Knowing she was crazy didn’t seem to help. She still felt like hell, and she couldn’t stop herself from imagining all sorts of horrible things. Nick in Paris, meeting a French beauty. Nick in New York, meeting an American beauty. Nick meeting all the beautiful women in the world. Nick giving in. Nick falling in love with someone else.
She hugged herself as she waited for the water to boil. This wasn’t good. This was awful. If she was this upset before he left the ground, how was she going to live through an actual flight?
Damn, she’d never thought of herself as a jealous person. But she wanted to scratch the eyes out of every female who even looked at him. Stewardesses! God, she hadn’t even thought of them. They would stay at the same hotels. Bring him coffee in the cockpit. Flirt. Tease. Cajole. How could they help it? He was the best-looking man in two countries, for heaven’s sake. He was everything a woman could want, and he had the added allure of being Italian. They wouldn’t care that he had a wife and baby at home. They would stop at nothing until they had him in their clutches.
Damn, damn, damn. She flung open the cupboard door and grabbed two mugs. She nearly ripped the silverware drawer out, then banged it shut so hard the glasses shook. She turned to the stove and cursed at the kettle.
“What’s this?”
She swung around at the sound of Nick’s voice.
“Did I really hear those words coming out of your mouth?” he said as he approached. “I’m shocked.”
“Don’t be. I have plenty more where that came from.”
“Well, I can’t say that I blame you. Imagine, having the temerity to be so slow to boil. I think you’re absolutely right to curse out the water.”
“You’re making fun of me.”
“Yes, I am.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Why not?” He came very close to her as she leaned against the counter. Very close. Only inches away. “It’s something I enjoy. And I think I’m good at it, no?”
“Oh, so it’s a sport with you, is it?”
