The Promise

Epilogue Got It Right

I parked at the back of the pizzeria, opened my door, threw out my foot in its high-heeled pump, and hauled my business-suited ass out of my Z.

I dashed in the back door of the restaurant, through the vacant kitchen that was nonetheless messy, and into the dining room.

They were congregated close to the front door. Vinnie, Benny, Vi, Cal with Angie, Kate, and Keira. Theresa, with her camera, was standing in front of them.

“Hey!” I called, rushing around the bar.

“Frankie!” Kate cried.

“Yay!” Keira yelled.

“Frankie! Just in time! Get in the shot,” Theresa ordered.

“I can’t, honey, got another interview I gotta get to. But I wanted to pop by and say ‘hey,’” I said, coming around them, seeing Kate and Keira in stained white aprons, holding a pizza pie.

This was because Benny had spent the last hour, while I was at another interview, teaching them how to make it.

They were up for Thanksgiving. They’d gotten in late that morning as I was headed off to interview numero uno.

Theresa was hosting Thanksgiving (of course), and Carm, Ken, and the kids were arriving that evening.

So it was good Ben and I got our guest room done, because with Carm and the family in town, that meant Vi, Cal, and the girls could stay with us.

Something that made me happy.

Then again, those days, days that started with Benny in bed with me and ended the same way, I was always happy.

I gave out quick hugs and kisses, ending with the girls.

“Save me a slice,” I said, smiling down at the awesome-looking pizza pie that I knew was also awesome-tasting because Benny showed them how to make it.

“We will,” Kate promised.

I gave her a grin, then I went to my man.

Hand to his chest, feet up on my toes, I said in his ear, “Be back as soon as I can.”

“Knock ’em dead, cara,” he said in mine, hand on my waist when he kissed my jaw.

I kissed his, leaned back, gave him a smile, and made to rush right back out.

“Frankie! Two seconds! I want you in this shot!” Theresa called.

“I’ll be in the next one!” I called back, hustling forward but smiling and waving backward.

“Frankie!” she shouted.

“Love you, Theresa!” I yelled from the kitchen and kept going.

It sucked that I had back-to-back interviews the day before Thanksgiving when family was hitting town, but the jobs were both local and they were both promising.

It wasn’t that I minded being out of work for a while. It was nice. It was just that all Benny’s junk was sorted, the house was clean, the guest room done, so I had nothing to do with my days. It would also be good to get back.

And anyway, I was right.

I wanted to be in that photo Theresa was taking.

But I’d get in the next one.

***

I disconnected my call, got off the couch in the living room, and headed down the hall. Hearing Godsmack playing low in the kitchen, I got myself a diet Fanta Grape from the fridge Ben had moved in the den.

Then I walked across the hall and stood outside the baby gate at the kitchen door, which was there to keep Gus out. This was something Gus didn’t like and I knew this considering he was sitting on his ass at the door, his tail wagging, his eyes aimed through the gate.

I aimed my eyes into the kitchen and saw my man in the gutted space, its walls newly painted butter yellow, laying tile.

“I’m uncertain how me wanting new towels, a floor, and backsplashes translated into you gutting the entire kitchen,” I remarked, popping the tab on my Fanta.

“Is that you askin’ me why I’m doin’ something?”

I grinned. “Yeah.”

He looked from the tile he’d just laid to me. “You get a new kitchen. Why do you wanna know why I’m givin’ it to you?”

“Because I don’t have a stove right now and I like havin’ a stove.”

Ben looked back to what he was doing, saying, “You’ll have a stove in about a week.”

“A week is a long time,” I noted.

“A week is a week,” he replied.

“True enough,” I muttered, smiling. “A week is a week.”

“You done bustin’ my chops?” Benny asked, setting in another tile.

“Maybe.”

“Whatever,” he murmured, grinning at the tile, being my awesome Benny because I was a woman who busted her man’s chops and he was a man who liked it.

“You wanna know what Tandy said?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“The board officially promoted Travis Berger from acting CEO to just plain CEO, seein’ as he did so well with all that crap that went down after Tenrix bein’ bad was outed.”

“And I give a shit about that because…?” Ben queried.

I grinned at the lip of my can and replied, “Just an FYI,” before I took a sip.

“What did Tandy say about the job?”

“Seein’ as it pays ten grand more a year and I told her I talked my new bosses into payin’ her moving expenses because she was that good of an assistant, she said she’d take it.”

Benny’s eyes came to me and I found, not for the first time, that I was right: I wasn’t used to their beauty. I’d never get used to their beauty. Especially not when they looked like that—happy in a way that I knew he was happy for me.

“Good news, baby,” he said softly.

“Yeah,” I replied just as softly. “Team Frankie and Tandy are gonna kick ass at our new jobs in Chicago.”

He smiled at me.

No. I’d never get used to getting all that goodness from Benny Bianchi.

“We’ll celebrate tonight. Come in and keep me company in the kitchen,” he invited on an order.

“That I can do,” I told him, but only because I liked keeping him company in his kitchen. “Now, what I’m gonna do is leave you to do what you seem to have to do. I’m goin’ over to bug Mrs. Zambino.”

“Take Gus with you. He’s makin’ me feel guilty.”

I looked down at Gus, who did indeed look like he was pining for his daddy, even if his daddy was only six feet away.

I looked back at Benny. “You got it, capo.”

Ben gave me a look, but he did it with his lips twitching.

I gave him a grin and informed him, “You can turn the music back up now.” Then I patted my thigh and called my dog as I moved to the front door. Gus followed me, no longer pining for Daddy. He was panting and had a doggie smile on his face, happy he was getting time with Mommy.

The music ratcheted high. I grinned as I found my cardigan, pulled it on, put the leash on Gus, and we headed out the door and across the street. I walked up Mrs. Zambino’s stoop and Gus waddled up beside me.

Once there, I juggled the leash and my hold on my can of pop and knocked on the door.

She opened it two seconds later and a half second after that, demanded to know, “What are you and that mongrel doing over here?”

I took in her perfectly coifed hair and made a mental note to ask where she got her sweater so I could get the same exact one before I replied, “We’ve come for a visit.”

“I thought Benny was puttin’ in a new kitchen for you,” she noted.

“He is,” I confirmed.

“And why aren’t you helpin’ him?”

I looked down at my awesome jeans, my fabulous top, my stylish cardie, and my magnificent high-heeled boots, then I looked at her.

“Do I look like a woman who lays tile?”

“He should have help,” she informed me.

“Manny’s gonna come over when he does the cupboards and stuff,” I informed her.

“He’s doin’ something for you, Francesca.”

“Yes, and it’s my job to look amazing to remind him why, thus…” I swept a hand down my front and let that speak the rest for me.

She rolled her eyes.

“Are you gonna let us in?” I asked.

“I suppose,” she muttered irritably and stepped aside, but did this still muttering. “You get any of that grape soda on my furniture, you’re payin’ for the cleaning.”

“I’ll be careful, Mrs. Zambino,” I said as we moved in.

We got settled in her living room. I let Gus off his leash and he went directly to Mrs. Zambino’s feet and laid on them.

She said not one word about this, mostly because she might call him “the mongrel,” but she adored him. I knew this because she came over in the mornings and demanded he go on her power walks with her.

She did this saying, “Someone has to keep that mongrel in shape,” even though she knew Benny and/or I took him on at least three walks a day.

Instead of saying something about Gus, she pierced me with her gaze. “I see Benny hasn’t put a ring on your finger.”

“Not yet.”

“He should see to that. Livin’ together without God’s sanction. Now that Manny has finally made an honest woman of his Sela, Theresa’s lightin’ candle after candle in hopes of savin’ your souls.”

I grinned at her because of her totally-didn’t-mean-it surly words and at the reminder of Manny and Sela’s awesome wedding.

I did this before I suggested, “Why don’t you do me a favor and tell him to get on that?”

She looked to her knees, murmuring, “I don’t want to disturb his work in your kitchen.”

This meant she was happy giving me shit, but she wasn’t about to give the same to Benny Bianchi. I figured this was not because she was afraid of Benny. She wasn’t afraid of anything. This was because she didn’t want to do anything that might make him stop fixing stuff around her house when it broke, which didn’t happen frequently, but her house was old so it happened regularly.

“Mrs. Zambino,” I called, and she looked back at me. I crossed my legs and held her eyes as I said straight out, “You were right.”

“I’m always right,” she returned, and I grinned again. “But what in particular was I right about this time?”

“Love is never wrong.”

She studied me, but I could swear her eyes got soft.

“I’m lucky,” I said quietly. “Havin’ an old woman across the street who’ll give me wisdom.”

She looked toward her TV.

“Mrs. Zambino,” I called again, and she looked to me. “It took a while, but you started it, so you gotta know: I look in the mirror now and see what you see.”

Yes. Definitely. Her eyes were soft.

“Frankie,” she whispered.

“Do you know what I see when I look at you?” I asked.

She pressed her lips together.

“Pure beauty,” I said softly.

That was when I saw her eyes get bright a second before I saw her chin lift and heard her mouth say, “If you think you can get into my will by bein’ sweet to me, forget it. I got enough girls fightin’ over my jewelry and handbags. I’ll pick a piece for you to get when I die and you’ll like it.”

“Of course I will, you have great taste,” I told her.

“I know I do,” she returned.

That was when I burst out laughing.

***

The instant the waiter left our table, I grabbed my Champagne glass, glued my eyes to Benny across from me, put my glass to my lips, and belted it back.

All of it.

Benny burst out laughing.

We were at Giuseppe’s. I was wearing a phenomenal dress I knew was phenomenal because we were late for our reservation, seeing as Benny banged me against the wall about a nanosecond after he saw me in it.

We were there to celebrate our new kitchen, which was a bit crazy, seeing as I didn’t want to be in a restaurant. I’d had enough of restaurants and takeaway and microwave meals the last month Benny spent working on the kitchen.

What I wanted was to use my fabulous new stove and stare into my scarily expensive, new stainless-steel fridge until it started beeping (then close the door, open it, and stare into the cavernous space again).

But Benny wanted to celebrate at Giuseppe’s.

And Giuseppe’s was Giuseppe’s.

So who was I to say no?

Ben reached to the Champagne bottle and started to refill my glass, saying, “Glad we had a good week at the restaurant so I don’t have to take out a loan to pay our check tonight.”

Every week was a good week at Vinnie and Benny’s Pizzeria.

But I didn’t say that.

I said, “Most fortunate.”

He shoved the bottle back into the bucket, then shoved his hand into his inside jacket pocket, all this saying, “Also glad business is steady so I could pay for the new kitchen I know you love but still bitched about, and so I could get you this.”

That was when he set a diamond ring at the top of my place setting.

I stared at the cushion-cut diamond surrounded with little diamonds twinkling in the candlelight. A ring that was not small or understated. A ring that was about flash and impact.

A ring that was perfect for me.

Then my eyes shot to Benny, the man who was perfect for me.

His brows rose, but his eyes were locked to mine as his deep, easy voice asked, “Wanna spend the rest of your life with me?”

My breath stopped.

“Frankie?” he called.

I didn’t move or speak. I just sat frozen in my chair staring at my Benny Bianchi.

“Cara,” he whispered.

“Did you have to ask?” I whispered back, and his lips curved up.

“No.”

“Will you put the ring on me?”

That was when he gave me a full-on, beautiful Benny Bianchi smile.

“Yeah.”

I licked my lips and held out my hand.

Ben reached out and picked up the ring. He slid it on my finger and, swear to God, I felt an electric charge over every centimeter of skin as he glided it to the base.

When he was done, his fingers curled around the side of my hand with the pad of his thumb pressed to the diamond, but his eyes stayed on mine.

“You gonna down another glass of Champagne?” he asked.

“Absolutely.”

“You wanna do that after you kiss me?”

“Most definitely.”

We sat there, Ben holding my hand, his thumb pressed to the diamond he just laid on me, and neither of us moved. We just looked into each other eyes.

When this lasted awhile, Ben prompted, “You wanna do that before the waiter comes back, interrupts the most important moment in my life, and pisses me off?”

The most important moment in my life.

God.

Benny.

I moved, but Benny didn’t let go of my hand and he continued not to let it go, even as I rounded the table and he shoved his chair back.

We were in Giuseppe’s. This demanded decorum.

But I didn’t care.

I sat in his lap, slid the fingers of my free hand in his amazing hair, while he pressed the hand he held to his chest. Once situated as close as I could get to my man, I tipped my head and kissed my brand-new fiancé.

When I was done, Ben didn’t let me up. He cupped the back of my head, pressed my forehead to his, and kept hold of my eyes.

“Never loved another woman. Not in my life,” he said quietly, and my breath went funny. “Waited until I got it right,” he went on. His hand squeezed mine, he moved so the tip of his nose skimmed mine, and he finished, “I got it right.”

God.

Benny.

“Honey,” I whispered.

“Love you, Frankie,” he whispered back.

“Love you too, Benny.”

I watched his eyes smile, then this time, he kissed me.

When he was done, he pulled an inch away and declared, “Told Ma I was givin’ you Aunt Mary’s ring. Gotta be you who tells her you didn’t want it.”

I jerked back and snapped, “Benny!”

Then I was jerked forward, held tight in his arms, in his lap, and I listened just as I felt Benny Bianchi burst out laughing against the skin of my neck.

Oh well.

Whatever.

So Theresa would be mad at me about the ring.

She’d get over it.

***

I sat curled in the corner of Gina’s couch in her living room, Sal in his armchair beside me.

Benny was in the kitchen helping Gina get after-dinner coffees for everybody.

This was because he was awesome.

This was also because he was doing what I’d asked him to do before we went over to Sal and Gina’s for dinner.

“Proud of that boy,” Sal said, and I looked to him. “Went large. My Frankie, she deserves a man who’ll go big.”

I had no idea what he was talking about until he reached out and touched the kick-ass diamond on my finger that was on the hand I had lying on the armrest close to him.

“Yeah, he’s awesome,” I agreed.

Sal looked from my ring to my eyes, his warm with happiness for me, and he said, “Yeah.”

I had to admit, I loved it that Sal loved Benny for me.

And now it was time.

“Speaking of my ring,” I started, straightening a little in the couch and turning fully to Sal.

“Frankie, amata, it’s okay,” Sal said softly.

“I—”

“Gina and I understand.”

“Sal, if you’d—”

“We’re just glad Benny brought you over for dinner tonight so we could have our moment to celebrate your good news with the two of you.”

“Sal—”

He reached out his hand and curled it around mine. “Happy for you, Francesca.”

“Can I say something?” I asked.

He steadily kept my gaze and nodded.

“I talked to Vinnie and Theresa.”

“You don’t—”

“Sal,” I cut him off quietly. “Please let me finish.”

He shut up.

“Benny talked to them with me.”

When I said no more, Sal nodded.

“They understand.”

“It’s a joyous day for them, you and Benny, and Gina and I don’t—”

I interrupted him again.

“They understand and agree that, if you want to do it, you should give me away.”

Sal went still.

I went on.

“It was Benny’s idea.”

Sal stared at me.

Suddenly, I felt funny.

“Dad still isn’t talking to me, partly because I’m not talking to him, and anyway, he really didn’t earn that honor. But if that’s weird to you—” I began.

That was when, suddenly, my hand was jerked, making my arm lurch painfully right before I was out of the couch, on my feet, and in Sal’s tight embrace.

He still said nothing. He just kept hold of me.

So I asked, “Can I take that as a yes?”

He continued his silence, but he gave me a squeeze that took the breath right out of me.

I took that as a yes.

***

“Your father is a horse’s ass.”

This was said by Chrissy, who was sitting at the table next to me.

It was Benny’s and my engagement party. A huge ’do that Vinnie and Theresa insisted we have since, once Sal agreed to take the honor of giving me away, he horned in and declared he was paying for the entire wedding. Benny and him got into it and the compromise was that Benny and I were going to pay for the rehearsal dinner and honeymoon.

So when there was nothing left to pay for, Theresa lost her mind and declared we were going to have a huge-ass engagement party. She then set about planning it before she got the official go-ahead from Benny and me.

Benny found this annoying.

I liked parties and having a reason to buy a fabulous dress that would make my fiancé get hard, so I absolutely didn’t.

“What’s this?” Cheryl asked, sitting with Chrissy, Cat, Violet, Asheeka, and me.

I tore my eyes away from Keira, who’d brought up her very handsome young boyfriend, Jasper Layne, so she could show him off at the party, and looked to Cheryl.

But Cat, holding her sleeping son, Sean, piped up first.

“Enzo Senior, our not-so-illustrious dad, bein’ a moron. No surprise.” She looked to me. “It’s Nat who has my panties in a bunch.”

Mine weren’t.

I was hurt.

Genuinely.

I’d called to share the news and heal the breach. I did it, even though I had a feeling Nat wouldn’t be in a good mood, mostly because she was in the middle of a divorce, living with Ninette, and things weren’t going well.

Nat being Nat, she had pushed it, but Davey beat the rap, what with the amount of damage he’d sustained and Nat not even having a bruise. But even before, his mom had bailed him out, then he’d kicked Nat’s ass out, changed the locks, and got a second job so he could pay for the attorney he hired to file for divorce.

She was now working as a stripper, living with a mom who never grew up, and had lost the man she loved—all that on her because she made bad decisions. All she refused to grow up and see her decisions, and change the course of her life, so she just got bitchier.

She was not feeling family love so when I’d called to heal the breach and ask her to be a bridesmaid, she told me to go fuck myself and, while I was at it, invited me to tell Benny to do the same.

I told Benny and he not only heard my words, he got a look at my face as I was saying them.

So he declared, “Now that bitch is dead to you and, tesorina, I mean that.”

I couldn’t miss the look on his face when he was saying it so I knew he meant it.

But the truth was, with that, it was up to Nat to heal the breach.

She wouldn’t and that hurt.

But that was her decision too.

Ninette decided to side with Nat, mostly because she wasn’t paying any rent and knew where her bread was buttered.

That didn’t hurt. I’d long since learned not to let Ninette’s selfishness dig deep.

I’d asked Enzo Senior to come. He didn’t pick up my call so the invitation was extended on voicemail. He didn’t respond and I was okay with that because I wanted Chrissy and Eva there and I wanted to have a good time without any awkwardness, so in the end, he gave me what I wanted. Enzo Junior couldn’t come because he had zero money, considering how much child support he was paying. But my brother Dino and his family were there, as were Cat and hers.

As was the rest of mine, the ones who were true, even if they weren’t blood.

“Suffice it to say, our family’s messy,” I told Cheryl.

“Whose isn’t?” she asked back, and everyone knew the answer to that.

Nobody’s.

Somehow escaping Art and Sela, who had been looking after her, Eva trundled over to her mom and slapped her hands on her thigh, then turned to me and slapped her hands on mine. This meant I picked my baby sister up, put her in my lap, and she shouted, “Fwanquee!”

I smiled at her, dipped low, and skimmed my nose against hers.

She giggled, caught sight of Vi, squirmed in my lap, and launched herself into Vi’s arms.

Something about this made me search the room, and there I found Cal talking with Sal and Vinnie. I kept looking and saw Theresa, who was with Tandy and Kate, holding Angie.

Cal’s back was to them. He had a beer in hand and his lips curved up at something Sal was saying.

There you go. Cal had finally settled into happiness.

And that settled happily in my soul.

“News from the ’burg: Keirry’s boy’s dad is now very taken,” Cheryl told me, and I looked to her.

“Yeah?”

“Colt and Feb scenario,” she explained. “Apparently, he fell for a girl years ago. They broke up, now they’re back together and blissfully happy.”

“Cool for him,” I said.

“Another one bites the dust,” she replied.

I smiled at her but caught sight of Eva out of the corner of my eye, launching herself my way and moved just in time to catch her.

“I work in construction,” Cat stated, cottoning on to what Cheryl did not say but still did. “Lotta guys I could introduce you to.”

“I live in Indiana,” Cheryl pointed out.

Cat gave Cheryl a once-over, then replied, “They find total losers. Women…” She shook her head. “You would not believe. I think they’d do long-distance in order to get a live one.”

“Haul out your cell, bitch, and program my number,” Cheryl ordered.

Violet looked to me and grinned.

I grinned back.

After doing that, my gaze wandered from Violet to across the room.

There, I saw Benny standing with Mrs. Zambino and half of her bowling posse. It looked like they were all talking at once, but Mrs. Zambino had a death grip on Benny’s arm, even though it appeared she was telling off one of her minions and doing it testily.

But my man was looking at me.

I did my best to hold my active sister safe against me, even as I lifted my fingers to my lips and blew him a kiss.

He caught it and I knew this because, from all the way across the room, I saw his beautiful eyes smile.

Or maybe I didn’t see it.

But I knew it happened because I felt it.

Strange how he could do that. Me sitting with my girls, surrounded by people I love, celebrating my engagement to the best man in the world, holding my baby sister against me, all of that a promise fulfilled, and he did it again.

With just a look and a feeling.

Making another promise come true.

***

I signed the room service bill and, staring at it, suddenly froze.

There it was. In black ink.

Francesca Bianchi.

I came unfrozen and I did this in order to smile.

Huge.

I handed the bill to the staff member with his tip. He dipped his chin and walked out the door. I opened it behind him and resecured the “Do Not Disturb” sign.

“Jesus, Frankie, you answered the door?” Ben growled, and I turned to watch him walk in, towel around his hips.

Eyes to the prize.

There was my prize. Mine to keep for always.

Benny.

“You were in the bathroom,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, for two minutes.”

“I need Champagne.”

“And you couldn’t wait two minutes?”

“No. And it’s rude to make someone wait outside a door for two minutes, not to mention he might have walked away.”

“You’re in a nightie,” Ben pointed out.

“I’m sure he’s seen women in less,” I returned, then noted, “You’re in a towel.”

“I’m a guy. Was he a guy?”

“Yes.”

His eyes moved the length of me in my little, lacy, clingy, ivory nightie.

“Christ,” he muttered, going to the Champagne.

I looked to the windows.

Vi was right.

Virgin Gorda was awesome.

Or at least it looked that way.

Maybe, before the end of our two-week honeymoon, Ben and I would see more of it than what we could see from our hotel room window.

Though, I wasn’t holding much hope for that since we’d already been there four days and we hadn’t left our room.

I heard the Champagne cork pop and looked to my husband.

He was looking at me.

“You wanna dirty a glass?” he asked, holding the bottle by its neck.

“No way,” I answered.

He grinned at me.

Then he stalked me.

I retreated.

Straight to the bed.

***

Ben handed the menu to the waiter and looked across the table at his wife.

Big hair. Dark makeup. Beauty by candlelight.

Then he looked down at her full glass of Champagne, something she hadn’t touched in all the time since the waiter put it in front of her, they looked over their menus, the waiter came back, and they ordered.

“Not gonna try to break the record for fastest single-person consumption of a bottle of Champagne tonight?” he teased.

She looked into his eyes and smiled that smile he liked so fucking much.

But this time, she did have a secret.

A secret she wasn’t keeping.

He knew this when she replied, “No, seein’ as I can’t drink for a while ’cause I’m carrying your baby.”

Benny went still.

She kept talking.

“When you see the waiter, can you order me a virgin Bellini, baby?”

Benny didn’t answer.

“Benny?” she called.

He didn’t move or speak. He just sat frozen in his chair, staring at his Frankie.

“Honey,” she whispered.

“Get over here right now,” he growled.

For once, his wife didn’t give him lip. She got up, rounded the table, he pushed back, and she sat right in his lap and tipped her face to his so he could take her mouth.

When he was done, he held her eyes but moved a hand to her flat belly where she was nurturing their baby.

Fuck.

Frankie.

“Happy?” she whispered.

“Absolutely.”

She skimmed her nose against the tip of his before she said quietly, “Love you, Benny Bianchi.”

Jesus, so fucking sweet.

“Love you too, Frankie Bianchi.”

He watched her eyes smile, felt her touch her lips to his, then she slid off his lap.

He was wiping her lip gloss from his mouth when he caught sight of Elena at the hostess station, smiling at them.

Having his own place, a place where people went to have good times, he knew that feeling. He knew it was why, generation after generation, you kept that close, worked your ass off to make it thrive—so you could give it to your family.

But she got the better parts and they came often. People coming to her restaurant for reasons just like this—to share the most important moments of their lives.

He lifted his chin to her, then looked back at his pregnant wife.

Ten minutes ago, she was crazy-beautiful.

Right then, right there, sitting across from him, carrying his baby, Benny knew without a doubt there was nothing in his life he could see or feel that would be more beautiful.

He would be wrong.

***

Ben slid his hand down Frankie’s side, in, and cupped her bare ass. He pulled her up so she could take his cock deeper, and when she did, he felt her breath go heavy at his ear.

“Like that, baby?” he whispered in hers, thrusting slow, but firm and deep.

“Yes, Benny.”

“You want more, all you gotta do is tell me.”

She squeezed the leg she had wrapped around his thigh tighter, trailed her fingers up his spine, and glided her other hand through his hair as she took his cock again and said on a soft breath, “I know, honey.”

Benny smelled his wife, felt her hair on his cheek, her wet pussy clutch his cock, and listened to the noises she was making, even as he heard through the opened window the sounds of the surf pounding against the shore and his son and daughter shouting and giggling as they played in the sand with their grandparents.

And he had it again.

A moment in his life where he was in no doubt there would ever be another more beautiful.

This time, though, even as he experienced it and had no doubts about it, he still knew he would be proved wrong.

***

Ben walked into the huge-ass kitchen of the huge-ass house he’d bought for his family six years ago when Frankie popped out his second son and his third baby.

When he did, he stopped dead when he saw Frankie in her business suit and heels, standing with a pen in one hand, cell to her ear in the other, writing something on the calendar, saying into the phone, “Yeah. We can do that. We’re free.” She was silent a moment before she said, “Cool. What do you need us to bring?”

He heard her laugh and even a sound he liked hearing no matter how much he heard it, and he heard it a lot, didn’t take him out of his freeze.

“We can do that. Totally. See you then.” A pause before, “Yeah. You too. Later, Vi.”

She disconnected, looked to him, and smiled.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hey, cara,” he said quietly, her smile and greeting finally pulling him out of the freeze.

“Vi and Cal are havin’ a barbeque. We’re goin’ down. Two weeks.”

“She pregnant again?” he asked, and that got him another smile.

“No.”

He went to the coffeepot asking, “You pregnant again?”

“Not that I know of.”

He poured himself a cup, muttering, “Just checking.”

“I have a meeting so you have to pick Alessandra up from dance. And there are birthday cards on the counter.” She tipped her head that way. “The kids have signed them and they’re stamped and addressed. Could you sign them and get them in the mail today?”

He turned, leaned hips against the counter, and replied, “Got it covered,” before taking a sip of coffee.

Her eyes went to the ceiling. “Are they tearin’ shit up?”

“Probably.”

“They gotta get ready for school.”

“Seein’ as that happens every day and I take them there, I know that, Frankie.”

She tilted her head to the side. “You’re standin’ there enjoyin’ a cup of coffee, Benny.”

“It looks like I’m enjoyin’ a cup of coffee. What I’m really doin’ is a favor to the teachers, lettin’ our hellions get some of their energy out before I drop ’em at school. That means they’ll wreak havoc here and only ’cause mayhem there.”

“Oh, that’s what you’re doin’,” she muttered, her lips curving.

He watched her lips before he looked into her eyes and ordered, “Stop bustin’ my chops, give me a kiss, and go to work.”

Those eyes got squinty. “Stop bein’ bossy.”

He grinned at her.

Her eyes got squintier.

“Come here, baby,” he demanded quietly.

She rolled her eyes and came there.

He pulled her into his arms, put his mouth to hers, hers opened, and like always, Ben didn’t waste the opportunity. He drank deep.

When he lifted his head, she said softly, “Remember, we’re comin’ to the pizzeria for dinner.”

The best nights at work, when Frankie hauled their crew to the restaurant. They always started at a table. They always ended in the kitchen, his girl helping her daddy, his boys stealing balls of mozzarella and eating them in his office, Frankie gabbing to his kids.

“I remember.”

“Okay, honey.”

He lifted his head and touched his lips to her forehead.

She bent in and kissed his jaw.

“Dad!” they heard Joey shouting from upstairs. “Van is gettin’ into my stuff!”

“Donovan!” Benny shouted back, still holding his baby close. “Leave your brother’s stuff alone!”

That was when they heard from Van, “Joey’s got a big mouth!”

And that was when they heard from Joey, “It’s my stuff!”

And that was when he felt his wife kiss his jaw again before she whispered in his ear, “Good luck with that, baby.”

Benny looked down to catch her smiling.

She pulled out of his arms, grabbed her purse, computer bag, and travel mug, shouting toward the door, “Momma’s leavin’ and she’s doin’ it lovin’ her babies!”

“’Bye, Momma,” Alessandra, their oldest, shouted. “Love you!”

“’Bye, Mom!” Joey, their second, yelled.

“’Bye!” Van, their last, put his in, then bellowed, “Joey!”

She grinned at Benny and walked through the door to the garage.

It was then that Ben heard Gus bark, this always a warning that things were deteriorating.

But before he hauled his ass from the counter and walked through his huge-ass kitchen to sort out his sons, he looked toward the calendar.

Varied colors of ink. Different handwriting. Mostly Frankie’s. Some of Benny’s. Even some of Ales’s and Joey’s. All marked up. Hardly any white space at all. Alessandra’s dance. Joseph’s karate. Playdates for Donovan. Slumber parties for his girl. Sleepovers for his boys. Birthdays. Dinners with Man and Sela and their brood. His Ma and Pop. Chrissy and Eva. Cat and Art and their crew. And when they could expect people walking through their door to get their own meal made by Frankie.

All the shit that makes a good life scribbled in the blocks printed on glossy paper hanging on a wall.

And on their calendar, full of scribbles, proof the Bianchis lived a good life.

They’d had calendars like that for years.

And Frankie kept each one. Taking it down on January first, always when Benny was in the kitchen. Then putting the new one up and carefully sliding the old one on the shelf in the living room by the TV that held the kids’ baby books and their wedding album.

Taking in his life on a calendar meant Benny was smiling at his feet as he walked out of his kitchen, down the hall to the foot of the stairs, and shouted up them, “Right! Stop screwin’ around! School! Now!”

He heard pounding feet.

Then he saw Gus at the top of the stairs. Their dog woofed, reporting in that the kids were minding.

And since Dad had spoken, and even Van listened when Dad spoke, Ben stood where he was, arms crossed on his chest, waiting for his kids so he could take them to school.

***

Theresa Bianchi parked at the back of the pizzeria.

She turned to her big bag in the seat beside her, hefted it up, and looped the straps over her shoulder before she got out of the car.

She headed in the back door and went directly to her son’s office.

There, she saw her handsome boy standing at his desk, phone to his ear.

Always standing, her Benny. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him sitting at his desk. Even as a child, he’d always been doing something.

Now as a man, a husband, a father, a business owner, he was the same…except more. Even sitting and watching a game on TV, he seemed somehow full of energy.

Electric.

His gaze came to her and his lips curled up.

She smiled at him and walked in, taking her bag from her arm.

She opened it and pulled out the picture she’d put in the frame that morning.

She set it on its stand on his desk, which was cluttered with some papers, but mostly it was cluttered with picture frames.

Like she’d done since they opened their pizzeria, she still hung pictures of family all over the dining room. So many, from the time her kids were little through the time her kids had kids, the walls were covered in them.

Except there weren’t many of Benny’s family.

This was because her son didn’t get into the dining room very often. But he did spend time in his office. And since he did, if he saw a photo of his family that his mother put on one of the walls in their pizzeria, he took it down and set it on his desk so it was in a place where he could see it.

So now, Theresa didn’t put the photos she took of Benny and his family in the dining room.

She put them on his desk.

And she put that one on his desk. Eight-by-ten. Black-and-white. She took it at Frankie’s last birthday party.

In it, Benny and Cal were standing close together at the front door. Benny had Alessandra leaning heavily against his side, tuckered out because it was late. So tired, her thick, lush lashes were sweeping her cheeks. She had her daddy’s arm around her shoulders.

Cal was holding his youngest son, little Ben, in his arms. Her boy Benny’s namesake was asleep. Joey, Van, and Vi and Cal’s second son, Sam, were in the shot—a blur, because they were chasing each other.

Benny and Cal were looking at each other and they were grinning.

Off to the side, Frankie and Violet also stood close. Frankie was wearing her tight, short dress, with her head tipped back, laughing. Vi had Angie’s hand in hers and she was looking down at her smiling daughter. Vi was also laughing.

To the other side, Kate and her husband, Tony, and Keira and her fiancé, Jasper, were standing and talking to Vinnie. They were also laughing.

Balloons festooned the entryway. Cal and Vi and their family were getting ready to leave.

It had taken them half an hour to get out the door.

But no one complained.

Family always had a lot to say, but most of it happened during good-byes.

This was because no one liked saying them.

Once Theresa set the picture down, she lifted her eyes to her son.

He was looking at the picture in its frame. His face was soft with memories.

Then he looked at his mother and she saw his eyes warm with love.

Theresa gave him another smile as she walked silently out of his office, that warm look of love in his beautiful eyes a memory she’d forever keep.

That was her Benny.

We’ll say goodbye to The ‘Burg with the story of Merry and Cheryl.

####