by Bethany-Kris
He seriously hoped Catherine decided to do something with the place in her spare time. Fill it with more things. Decorate the walls. Whatever. Maybe get a maid on the payroll to come in once a week to dust, mop, and sweep. Keep the cupboards stocked.
Things it could really use.
He wouldn’t push, though.
On the bottom floor of the brownstone, Cross finally found his wife. Catherine sat on the window bench, overlooking the street outside. The way she was tucked against the wall likely kept her hidden from view.
Stretched across her mother, Cece snored beneath a blanket. All that peeked out was her mop of brown waves.
Cross leaned in the entryway, and watched them for a moment. Their quiet love did not need to be interrupted by him. It wasn’t often that he got to witness these times, either.
Considering how unruly their life always seemed to be, when could he?
“The king finally rises,” Catherine murmured, never looking away from the window. “I can see your reflection in the window, you know.”
“I didn’t, but hey.”
“Still tired?”
“Not so bad, now.” Cross folded his arms over his chest. “You could have woke me up, babe.”
“You looked like you needed it.”
“What time did you get up?”
“Around six.” She pointed at the girl sleeping on top of her. “Someone crawled into bed with us, and then I realized something else was playing basketball with my bladder. I couldn’t fall back asleep.”
“Speaking of the pregnancy …”
Catherine turned her head to look at him. “What?”
“Have you made an appointment with an OB-GYN yet?”
“It’s coming up. I did have bloodwork done before I headed out of state last week, too.”
“I know, I just—”
“Worry,” she said with a smile. “I know, Cross.”
He pushed away from the wall, and closed the space between them. Catherine’s hand left Cece’s back, and reached for him.
Cross intertwined their fingers, and weaved his hand into Catherine’s hair. Bringing her close, she rested her head against his hip. He bent down enough to kiss the top of her head, lingering there for as long as he could. He could never forget to remind her in any way he could that he loved her.
Every moment.
Every second.
However he could.
“I have to head out for a bit today,” he told her.
“Round up the men, I bet.”
Cross chuckled. “Something like that.”
Protect his streets and people, mostly.
“It’ll work out,” Catherine whispered.
“I know.”
“Then why do you sound so unsure?”
Cross heaved a sigh. “I want to protect Zeke. I wanted to do that from the start. He’s my best—one of my only—friends.”
“Sure.”
“And then that mess happened with our house.”
Catherine peered up at him. “Everyone is fine, Cross.”
“Because you weren’t there, though.”
“Yeah, but—”
“There’s no but in this, Catty. That’s the thing. They don’t give a shit who they come after as long as it gets them what they want. So, yeah, I protect Zeke and Kayta, but what might I have to give up for it? What will we have to give up? Is she worth that?”
“Cross.”
“Is she?”
He didn’t know.
Catherine came back with an answer that at least made some sense. She was good that way. Always filling in where Cross lacked.
“Maybe give her the chance to show she is worth the effort. And since I know that I also should do the same, I will.”
“How?”
“By letting her in.”
“Heartbeat is sounding quite strong at one-twenty-two beats per minute,” the ultrasound technician said with a wide smile. “Let’s see what else we can look at, and make sure the size matches your weeks.”
On the screen, gray, white, and black masses swirled while the tech moved the wand across Catherine’s flat stomach.
“It says on your chart you’re almost eleven weeks along, right?”
“Just about.”
The woman nodded.
Through the speakers, the baby’s heartbeat rushed with a whooshing sound in the background. Like the hooves of horses galloping in white noise.
In the masses, the picture slowed to show the shape of a developing baby. Shortened limbs, a large head, and small body. In the chest area, the heart fluttered away.
“Everything is measuring well,” the woman said.
“It’s too early for a gender, right?”
“By a few weeks, unfortunately. Your doctor did want you to have an early ultrasound just to make sure everything was looking well, though. I expect you’ll be in here for another one around the time we can definitively tell. I mean, as long as the baby cooperates.”
Catherine laughed to herself, but when the woman looked to her for an explanation, she said nothing. The tech didn’t know Cross, after all, so she wouldn’t understand.
But this baby was his.
It was very unlikely to cooperate at all.
Even when she had her ultrasound for Cece, it had taken quite a bit of time, and three techs to come in to weigh odds on the grainy images to decide she was a girl. And even then, they hadn’t been entirely sure.
Catherine had to go back for another ultrasound to find out—a three-dimensional one. Cece had not wanted to stay still long enough to show what her gender would be.
“Okay, Catherine. I think that’s all.”
The tech hit a button, and pages started to print out of the machine while she turned her chair. She grabbed a facecloth from the counter, and Catherine took it to wipe the blue gel from her stomach.
“Nothing to worry about?” Catherine asked.
She didn’t think there was, of course, but pregnancies could be fickle. Plus, she wasn’t twenty-five, now. After thirty, a whole new set of worries came with pregnancy.
“Not that I could deliver the news to you if there was something wrong,” the tech replied, “but no, everything looks good with baby.”
“Great.”
The tech grabbed the papers that had printed out the side, and the black and white grainy images of the baby. She handed them over to Catherine with a smile.
“You’re on your way upstairs for the OB-GYN, right?”
“Can’t forget to pee in a cup,” Catherine joked.
Laughing, the woman nodded. “Yeah, I don’t miss that, either. Give the paperwork to the doctor, and she will add it to the file for you after going over everything.”
“Thanks.”
“Have a great day.”
Catherine fixed her dress before leaving the private room. She just stepped out into the hallway when her phone started ringing. She didn’t even bother to check it as she answered, and put it to her ear.
“Catherine here,” she said.
“Hey, reginella. You have a minute?”
At Miguel’s voice, Catherine darted for the closest bathroom. She didn’t want to be late for her appointment, but she also wanted to hear whatever the hell Miguel had found out for her about Evira Masters. Inside the bathroom, she locked the door and faced her reflection in the mirror.
“Talk to me, Miguel.”
“You were right.”
“I usually am. Indulge me on what, though.”
“Masters is still residing in California. Wine country, apparently. From what I have found out from a couple of sources, she’s got a man she cozies up to.”
Catherine fixed a stray curl and asked, “Who is the man?”
“Small time coke dealer. His father comes from Miami. Think Cocaine Cowboys back in the eighties or whatever. You know, when flying coke into and out of Miami with single engine planes used to be a thing. Anyway, the guy has connections to somewhere.”
Sh
e didn’t really care about the guy.
Just Evira.
“He’s not going to be a problem, is he?”
“No, but he’s clearly the one supplying her. Or, that’s what I would think considering the situation. Where the hell else is she going to get her hands on cocaine and whatever else she’s peddling?”
“Have you got eyes on her yet?”
“Not exactly,” Miguel said. “I think she might be on a vacation or something.”
Catherine cursed lowly. “Or she’s skipped town.”
“Definitely not. Ugly little Pepto-pink Beamer in the garage of the house the guy owns. He’s not driving around in that piece of shit. No self-respecting man would.”
“Cute.”
“Seriously.”
“Get eyes on her Miguel, and follow her when you do. I want proof it is her delivering to the clients. I don’t feel particularly good about assuming, and then retaliating without absolute proof it is her.”
“It’s her, reginella.”
“Likely, but my point remains the same.”
“I’ll update you when she’s back in town,” Miguel said.
Catherine touched up her lipstick in the mirror, and ended the call with, “Make sure you stay out of that girl’s sight, Miguel.”
“Yes, reginella. Act like this is my first rodeo.”
“Reminders are always good.”
“I’ll call you.”
Catherine found a black town car waiting outside the hospital once she was finally done with her appointments. Instead of the previous driver who had taken her earlier, a new man was waiting. He stood beside her mother.
“Ma,” Catherine said as she strolled toward the car, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
At all.
Catrina was still avoiding Catherine, after all.
“I thought you might like to go to lunch with me,” her mother said.
Dressed in black Dolce & Gabbana with the heels and mink coat to match, Catrina looked every inch a queen in her place. Then again, she always did.
“So, you’re done ignoring me, then?”
Catrina raised a perfectly manicured brow. “That depends.”
“On what?”
“Do you have something to say to me?”
Catherine smiled because yeah, she did. “I crossed a line, Ma.”
“Keep going.”
“It’s kind of cold out here, you know. It is March.”
“Keep going,” Catrina repeated, unmoved.
“I questioned you when I shouldn’t have. I overstepped my place. You taught me a valuable lesson that was well learned.”
“Was it?”
Catherine stuffed her hands in the pockets of her trench coat in an effort to keep them warm. “This … what you do, I mean, isn’t easy. It was one thing for me to handle a piece at a time, but when it’s all shoveled on, it’s different.”
“And difficult,” Catrina said.
“That, too. I didn’t realize just how much you’re always dealing with.”
Catrina sighed. “I throw things at you—like the Giuseppe meeting—because I know you can handle it, Catherine. You thought that meeting was a failure on your part, but it was far from it. You learned something invaluable. Not every person I deal with will be amicable to you, or pleasing to your personality. You have to be able to manage a changing business on your own because I will not always be here.”
“Abril definitely wouldn’t have been amicable to you,” Catherine said, grinning.
“Abril?”
“New supplier. Cartel leader. Certainly likes her place acknowledged. Kind of like you.”
Catrina pursed her lips. “Mmm.”
Catherine pointed at her mother, saying, “And that attitude right there would not have worked. I don’t mind stepping aside when it comes to business to get shit done. I can tell when my place is lost because it’s no longer my throne to sit on for the moment. Overstepping my boundary with you taught me that, too, Ma.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t give people an inch, Catty, or they—”
“Take a mile, I know.”
Catrina smiled softly. “However, well done.”
Pride swelled through Catherine, but she managed to keep from preening like a little peacock with its pretty feathers. Barely.
“You think?”
“I suppose I can take a step back from suppliers and shipments, then?” Catrina asked instead of indulging Catherine’s question.
“I would … really prefer it if you had as little as possible to do with Abril in the way of business, Ma. It would be a Giuseppe situation all over again, and I don’t have the time to go out and find myself a new supplier.”
Catrina’s gaze darted down to Catherine’s flat stomach. “I guess not. How’s the pregnancy?”
“A lot like Cece’s was, I think.”
“So, exhausting, vomiting … the usual.”
Catherine laughed. “Yeah, about like that.”
Catrina gestured toward the hospital. “And nothing is wrong?”
“Standard tests, Ma. An ultrasound. Heartbeat. Pee in a cup. Bloodwork results. Everything is great, really.”
“I was told you would need a driver, and your guards would follow behind today. Things are not very good on Cross’s side of business, are they?”
“It’s always something.”
“It is,” her mother echoed. “But that was the life we signed up for. Knowingly.”
“I found the competition you kept quiet.”
Catrina’s gaze narrowed with interest. “Oh?”
“Just another thing to add on the pile.”
Her mother turned, and waved at the waiting driver to open the car door. “As you said, Catty, there is always something.”
“I suppose you’re not going to help me clean up these problems that have come up in your absence?”
Catrina slid into the car. “Not at all. You’re doing so well. Why would I step in?”
Catherine climbed in after her mother. “Not even surprised.”
“You needed this, Catty.”
She had.
More than she had known.
“Close your eyes.”
Cross sat at the head of the table, but had turned the chair to face Catherine. “Why?”
“Just do it.”
“But—”
“Stop ruining our moment, Cross.”
“What moment?”
She gave him a look, and he raised his hands in surrender before closing his eyes. Digging in her clutch, Catherine pulled out the black and white images she had gotten at the hospital the day before.
Cross had been so busy with things that he hadn’t gotten home until late. Catherine was distracted by their daughter, and Cece’s interest in decorating her “second room” as she was now calling the bedroom she used in the brownstone. Now that she had five minutes with Cross alone while Cece was busy in the next room, she could do this.
Catherine held the pictures up. “Okay, open your eyes.”
Cross opened one. And then two as soon as he saw what was in front of his face.
With a laugh, he plucked the sonogram pictures out of Catherine’s hands. There wasn’t very much to see, given she wasn’t far along, but it was enough.
The baby was growing.
Thriving.
“The heartbeat is strong,” Catherine told him.
Cross smiled, but kept looking at the images in front of him. She figured that was just his way of reminding himself that this was one less thing he had to worry about for the moment. The baby was okay, and the pregnancy was coming along well.
“It’s a girl,” Cross said, quiet and sure.
Catherine put a hand to her hip. “Why do you think that?”
“I just … do.”
“That’s not very scientific or factual.”
Cross shrugged. “My gut says girl, Catty.”
“Well, two is all you get.
So if you were hoping for a boy, and it is a girl, I don’t know what to tell you.”
Instantly, Cross was up off the chair with a laugh and a grin. He caught Catherine around her waist with one arm, tipped her back, and kissed her mouth three times in quick succession. His forehead pressed to hers while his eyes locked on her gaze.
“Keep thinking I couldn’t convince you otherwise, babe.”
She tried to glare, and failed. “Be fair, Cross.”
“I am, by being honest.”
“Two is my limit.”
He nodded. “I know.”
Then, he kissed her once more. Softer and slower, lingering for longer and deepening the kiss until her lungs burned with the need for air and her body felt weightless.
Yes.
She still very much loved this man.
“The bloodwork came back good, too,” Catherine said when Cross finally let her go. “Nothing abnormal, I guess.”
“Perfect.”
“And I didn’t get the chance to mention it yesterday because you basically fell into bed and heard nothing until this morning, but Ma showed up yesterday.”
Cross glanced over his shoulder at her as he headed for the coffee pot. “I thought she might. Dante called to ask about what you planned on doing for the day. I assumed he was going to meet up with you somewhere, but he mentioned Catrina might like to.”
“Didn’t think to give me a heads up?”
“You needed to talk to your mother, Catherine.”
“So?”
“So, I was not about to risk you bailing on her if I did tell you.”
She did glare at him that time. “I would not have.”
“Maybe.”
“Cross.”
“You needed to talk to your mother,” he repeated.
Catherine heaved a heavy sigh. “And I did.”
“Yes, and I bet you needed it.”
“I did,” she admitted quietly.
Cross made his coffee, turned his back to the counter, and sipped from the drink. Facing her, she couldn’t hide a damn thing from him. She never could. “Maybe I should have told you, babe. I guess you had kind of realized you needed to step up and apologize anyway.”
“Did that, too, thank you very much.”
