12. A Good Time
12
A Good Time
Whiskey (straight up)
Pour two ounces of Jack Daniels into any glass you can find. Try to keep your hands steady as you drink it. People are depending on you.
DANNY
B y the time Leo backed his truck into the driveway of our mother’s house in San Bruno, I had so many emotions swirling in my chest that I couldn’t tell if my sigh was relief that he was on time (ish) or dread about his reaction to my news. Thrilled or disappointed, in our Italian-American family, the response was sure to be loud.
The door of my ancient Toyota creaked as I got out. I jammed the key into the lock and jiggled it the way my uncle had taught me when he’d sold it to me ten years ago, then I met my brother on the driveway.
“What’s up?” he asked. “What couldn’t you tell me over the phone?”
I cuffed his shoulder. “You think I’m going to tell you in the front yard where old Mrs. McIntosh might hear? Come inside like a human. I’ll tell you and Ma together.”
I trudged up the steps, pulled open the door, and walked into the smell of meat sauce. “Ma?”
“In the kitchen. I’m making food.”
“Food?” I stepped into the familiar kitchen with its white-painted cabinets. The countertops overflowed with dishes. “It’s 10:00 a.m. on a Monday.”
She lifted the heavy lasagna pan out of the oven and set it on a folded towel with a grunt. “You said you had news. News goes best with food.”
Careful not to let her see my eye roll, I kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Ma. But this is enough food for twenty people.”
“Good thing we’re here to eat it.” My sister Giuliana walked into the kitchen holding a bottle of prosecco in one hand and a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other. “Are we celebrating or commiserating?”
I kissed her cheek. “Ma, I said I wanted to talk to only you and Leo.”
“We’re family.” Ma pulled a foil-wrapped loaf of bread from the oven. “We share news.”
I’d promised Lucie I’d keep it quiet for a while. Still, Giuliana didn’t know anyone Lucie worked with. Her secret was safe.
“So, which is it?” Giuliana held up the bottles.
Grimacing, I pointed at the prosecco.
She tilted her head. “You sure?”
“No. Can we sit?” I pulled out a chair for my mother at the small, round table that was more often used as extra prep space than a dining space. My mother never hosted fewer than six people for meals, so we usually ate in the dining room at the table she’d inherited from her parents.
The front door slammed. “We’re here. What’d we miss?” My sister Elena bounded into the kitchen, followed by her twin, Tony, who went straight to the pan of lasagna.
“It’s not done resting,” Ma warned. “You can eat after Danny tells us his news.”
“Ma,” I said, “the twins? Really?”
“Family, Danny,” she reminded me.
“Grab some glasses,” Giuliana ordered them.
I sighed. “Ma, sit down.”
With a worried look, she sank into the chair. Leo sat on one side of her, and I sat across from her. Giuliana twisted the cage on the bottle of prosecco.
I met each of their gazes, unsure how to start. I wasn’t even sure how I felt, much less what they’d think. It had been at this very table that our mother had given Leo and me the talk when we were in middle school. She’d told us to always use condoms and never, ever have sex with someone we wouldn’t mind raising a child with. I’d taken it to heart after watching three men abandon her.
I wouldn’t mind raising a child with Lucie, but the feeling wasn’t mutual.
“So, ah…” I began, “there was an accident?—”
“An accident?” Ma leaped from her chair and circled the table to cradle my face and peer into my eyes. “Are you all right?”
“Not that kind of accident, Ma.” Gently, I removed her hand from my face and held it. “I got a woman pregnant.”
“A baby?” Her concerned expression flashed into joy faster than a grease fire. “You’re going to be a father? I’m going to be a grandma?” She tugged me up and hugged me. Even though I was a foot taller than her, it felt as good as the hugs she’d given me when I’d failed a test at school.
“Hey!” Giuliana popped the cork and poured the fizzy wine into the juice glass Tony handed her.
Elena pounded my back. “Danny’s gonna be a daddy!”
I winced. “Yeah, I guess? She’s decided to keep the baby.”
My mother pulled back to scan my face, her eyes narrowing. “Who is she?”
“No one you know. Lucie Knox, my neighbor.”
Leo whistled. “Lucie? How’d you manage that? She’s way outta your league.”
I turned my gaze toward Ma’s pampered roses outside the window. “I know.”
“Your neighbor is your girlfriend?” Elena asked.
“She’s not my girlfriend.” A fat bumblebee hovered above the buds as if waiting for them to open. “Like I said, it was an accident.”
“Your dick accidentally fell into her vagina?” Tony crowed.
Ma smacked the side of his head. “Don’t be crude about my first grandchild. What’s done is done. Now there’s a baby to think about. When is she due?”
“Due?” I counted on my fingers. “November, I guess?”
“November,” Leo said. “But that’s when?—”
“We have time.” Ma squeezed my hand, then returned to her seat. “Giuliana, pass me a glass. Danny, tell me about this girl.”
“Girl?” Leo laughed. “Lucie’s no girl. She’s gotta be, what, late thirties? You met her Saturday, Ma. Remember, she came in during Belinda and Jung-mi’s baby shower. Tony, pass me the whiskey.”
My mother’s glass of prosecco froze, mid-toast. “The older woman in all black?”
I blinked. “Sure, she’s older than me, but I wouldn’t call her older.”
“Danny.” Ma set down her glass. “How old is she?”
I pulled out my phone and googled her to be sure. “Thirty-nine or forty.”
“A baby at forty.” Ma slumped back in her chair. “Better pour me some of that.” She pointed at the whiskey.
“Ma,” I said, “people have babies in their forties all the time.”
“Do they? No one I know did. Isn’t it dangerous?”
“Dangerous to the mother?” I kept my hands flat on the table to disguise their tremble. What if Lucie died because of that broken condom? I’d never forgive myself.
Leo nudged my hand with a glass of Jack. “Ma, don’t be a dinosaur. Just because you popped out five babies before thirty-five doesn’t mean that’s how people do it these days. Lucie’s healthy, and I’m sure she’s got health insurance. She’ll be fine.”
Health insurance? My heart pounded. Lucie had mentioned it when she told me about the pregnancy. The policy Barb offered me was so expensive that I’d bought the state-mandated minimum coverage, which you had to practically sever a limb to make it worth using. How much would this baby cost? I lifted the whiskey and gulped it, grimacing at the burn in my throat.
“I think the bigger question is, what is going to happen between you and Lucie,” Leo said. “She’s, like, a grown-up with a job.”
“Danny has a job,” Giuliana said.
“Lucie’s got a college degree. She’s a journalist,” he said. “Didn’t you tell me she won some award?”
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Plus, she’s writing a book.”
“But she’s not your girlfriend?” my mother said.
“No.” I traced a water stain on the table.
“So, you two are…” She tilted her head.
“I don’t know,” I said, my voice tight.
“Fuck buddies,” Tony announced at the same time.
Ma smacked his shoulder.
“Sounds like you need to talk to her, Danny-o,” Leo said. “Ask her what she wants.”
I ground my molars. I already knew what she wanted. A good time. I wasn’t boyfriend material. Certainly not husband material. We’d never be a traditional family.
“Danny, you look pale,” Ma said. “I’ll get you some lasagna.”
“No, thanks, I’m good.” I swallowed the bile rising in my throat.
“I’ll eat his.” Tony stepped to the counter. “Ma, you hungry? Anyone else?”
Tony made plates of lasagna while I sat in my chair, struggling to breathe through the pressure on my chest. At Belinda and Jung-mi’s shower, they’d talked about painting the nursery. My apartment didn’t have a second bedroom to use as a nursery. Neither did Lucie’s. They’d shown us photos of the crib and the chest of drawers that had a special cushion to use as a changing table. A fancy rocking chair. Not to mention the dozens of things on their baby registry.
How did people afford all that? Every two weeks, I direct-deposited my salary into my savings account for the bar and lived on my tips. Some weeks I lived well. Others, I ate a lot of store-brand peanut-butter sandwiches.
Babies couldn’t live like that. I needed to set aside some money for our kid.
We’d never had a lot growing up, and we’d squeezed an adult and five kids into the suburban three-bedroom house my grandparents had left my mother. But we’d always had enough food to grow strong and healthy and enough love to make it through the hard times.
Co-parenting an accidental baby with my neighbor who thought my dick was my only redeeming quality wasn’t my idea of a family.
Ma leaned toward me. “Danny, I can see you’re worried. Is it money? I don’t have a lot extra, but I can help.”
I shook myself. “No, I couldn’t take your money. I’ll work it out.”
Her steady gaze was like an x-ray that read the anxious thoughts in my brain. “We’ve got lots of baby things in the attic. Why don’t you look through it and see if there’s anything you can use.”
“I’ll call Tina,” Giuliana said. “She got her tubes tied after Emma. I’m sure she’s got baby things she could give you. She’ll be glad someone can use them.”
The tightness in my chest eased a little. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a start. I’d show Lucie I was trying to help. Then she might not think I was completely worthless.
“Do you need, like, a real job?” Tony asked. “Working for Aunt Connie’s insurance agency isn’t the most exciting job, but it’s steady. With your people skills, she’d hire you in a second.”
I swallowed another gulp of whiskey. Working behind a desk sounded like torture.
“Nah, Tony,” Leo said. “Danny’s buying the bar. He’ll be fine.”
“We’re buying the bar,” I corrected him. But his words, combined with the whiskey, warmed up my belly.
He was right. I had to double down on buying the bar. As a bar owner, not just a bartender, I could afford a kid, and I might even be worthy of Lucie Knox.