42. Carmie
Chapter 42
Carmie
“ H ow long have you been cooking that for?” I ask Luca as he stirs a pot of sauce on the stove. The pasta’s boiling away and the steam rises up to the ceiling, breaking against it like waves on stone.
“All afternoon in anticipation of my sister’s triumphant return.” Luca beams at me. Daniel’s sitting at the table, and he rolls his eyes.
“Let me guess, that one hasn’t helped at all.”
“I’ve been working,” Daniel says defensively.
“Lazy as hell,” Luca agrees.
We bicker happily like old times. When dinner’s finished cooking, Luca serves it out. Dad’s still back in his office and probably won’t emerge for a little while—he’s always busy doing some bullshit back there and usually doesn’t join us for family dinners these days—but that’s fine with me. It’s good to be back in the old house. Even though nobody lives here anymore, only poor old Dad, we still like to gather in the kitchen we grew up in.
I’m nervous as we chat about nothing much. Luca’s got a girlfriend he doesn’t want to talk about, and Daniel clearly doesn’t like her. And then there’s Daniel’s new business venture, something to do with crypto and e-cigarettes. “He’s elbow deep in that smokeless tobacco stuff, what’s it called, Zyn?”
“The kids love that shit,” Daniel says with a shrug. “And I’m pretty sure it’s fueling like half of UPenn right now.”
“Gross, but lucrative.” Luca slaps his brother on the shoulder and beams at me. “Always an entrepreneur, our boy.”
“Fuck off.” Daniel’s trying not to smile, but it’s hard for him sometimes. “The money really is good though.”
“I’m happy for you.” And I mean it: Daniel’s a hard-ass, but he takes his business seriously. It defines him in some ways, and I worry that he cares about it too much. “Just don’t fall in love with some stupid co-ed.”
“The ones buying from me aren’t exactly my type.”
Luca jokes about what Daniel’s type really is, and his characterization is far from flattering, which leads the two boys to argue again. I sit back and watch them, smiling to myself. These guys go at it, but they love each other, and I’m going to miss them while I’m in Canada.
“I need to tell you two something before I go,” I say as we’re finishing up the meal. Dad still hasn’t made an appearance, and I don’t feel like waiting any longer.
They exchange looks. Daniel clears his throat. “We know already,” he says.
“What do you mean, you know already?”
“He means we’re not fucking stupid,” Luca says.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re not drinking,” Daniel points out.
“So what? I’ve never been a big drinker. I have self-control, unlike you two idiots.”
They exchange another look.
“You’re pregnant,” Daniel says finally.
And I groan, throwing up my hands. “What the fuck. You two always ruin everything.”
“That’s a confirmation if I ever heard one,” Luca says as he gets up, beaming like crazy. “Come give me a hug. And remember, Luca Junior is a great name for a boy.”
“That’s not really how it works, but sure,” I say as he squeezes me tight.
I look back at Daniel as I sink into my seat again. He’s studying me with a serious look, caught between uncertainty and something else. I realize my knee’s jostling, and after all this time, I still worry about what he’s going to think the most. I don’t even know why I care, but I really do.
“I’m worried,” he says softly. And that’s when I understand. It isn’t anger or disappointment all over the tense way he’s holding himself.
He’s scared for me.
“It’s okay,” I say sincerely. “Really, I promise.”
“You barely know your husband. It was an arrangement. You two have barely been married for a few months, and you’re already knocked up. I don’t like it.”
“Jesus Christ, Daniel, it’s not about you,” Luca snaps at him.
But Daniel doesn’t look moved by that.
The old Carmie would be pissed. Sometimes it really does feel like Daniel can’t get past his idea of how things should be, just like Luca said.
I know better now. I reach out a hand.
He hesitates but takes it.
He cares about me. This is how he shows it. Daniel’s worried that I’m going to get trapped in an unhappy and loveless marriage, and it has nothing to do with being a proper Italian princess.
He’s worried about me .
“I’m fine,” I say very softly. “Seriously, we’re happy. This is a good thing.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. Really, if it wasn’t, I’d tell you.”
His jaw relaxes slightly. “Then congratulations.” He squeezes my hand. “I guess I’m going to be an uncle soon.”
“I am too, you fucking prick,” Luca shouts, and we’re back to smiling and laughing again after that.
I feel light for all of ten minutes. My brothers finally know about the baby, and maybe I didn’t tell them the exact timeline of my pregnancy, but they don’t need to know that. We’re talking about having kids and raising babies, and I’m getting ready to start cleaning the dishes when my father finally decides to make an appearance.
“You’re here,” he grunts at me, frowning as he goes to get himself something to eat. “When did that happen?”
“She stopped in to have dinner,” Luca says. “What have you been so busy with?”
“Don’t concern yourself with that.” Dad glares at me. “You should be home with your husband.”
“This again,” Luca says, rolling his eyes. He gets up and looks like he’s going to say something, but I cut him off.
“I’m pregnant, Dad. It’s nice to see you too.”
That knocks him off balance. It’s nice to see my father struggle to find words. Normally he’s got a comment, a quip, or some fucking lecture ready at all times, but right now he seems too stunned to form words.
My brothers quietly exit the kitchen.
“Guess that’s good,” he says at last. “You can’t fuck up the marriage. Now you’re stuck.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “That’s what you care about? Not that you’re going to become a grandfather soon?”
“I care about you doing the right thing, Carmie.”
“I know. You’ve been telling me my whole life.”
“And you’ve mostly listened, but sometimes you don’t seem to understand. If you want to get anywhere in this world?—”
“I have to play by the rules. Thanks, I’ve heard that one before.”
Dad puts his plate down on the counter with a clatter. “Did you come home just to give me attitude?”
For some reason, that does it. This man has been a controlling asshole my whole life, and finally, I have a little piece of good news for him, something that might even make him happy too, and he somehow manages to twist it around. That’s my father’s real skill in life: turning things sour.
“Honestly, I came here to see my brothers. I think I’m done seeing you.”
He snorts and gets a beer from the refrigerator. “That’s dramatic.”
“No, really, Dad, I mean it. Want to hear something funny?”
“Go ahead. Make me laugh.” He cracks his drink.
“I’m fencing again.”
“You’re doing what?”
“Fencing. You remember that, don’t you? I won state twice in a row. Remember? I had colleges recruiting me and you shut them all down?”
He’s frowning as he drinks. “I vaguely recall that.”
“You said it wasn’t proper for a lady. You said I didn’t need college. And you know what I did? I listened.”
“That’s because you’re not always an idiot.”
“No, Dad, I listened because I was weak. I let you push me around. I let you make my choices for me. I always thought one day I’d get ahead, just like you promised, but it never happened. Now I realize that’s all on me, and that’s fine. I’m fencing again.”
“What the hell is this, Carmie? You always criticize my decisions? I have a laundry list of all the ways you’ve fucked up over the years.”
I turn my back on him. “I’m not interested.”
“You better get interested then, girl. I don’t give a shit that you’re pregnant or that you’re married.”
I walk away. I let my father rage as I go. His words don’t mean anything to me anymore. Dad doesn’t run my life, and he never should have. I can see it now so clearly it’s absurd.
I have a warrior in me, and I let that warrior starve to please my impossible father.
Never again.
“Don’t bother coming back!” Dad shouts as I walk down the stoop.
I don’t tell him that I’ll be in Canada for a while. It’s not like he’ll even notice.
I get half a block away before Luca catches up with me. He’s breathing hard and looks at me, and he buries me in a big hug. “It’s okay,” he says, rubbing my back. “He’s just a dick.”
“I know.”
“You all good?”
“I’m fine.”
“Really? A year ago, a fight like that with Dad would’ve set you off.” He leans back, studying me. “But you seem fine.”
“That’s because I’m good. Really, I’m moving on.”
He nods slowly. “Good for you, Carmie.”
“Took me long enough.”
“We all move at our own pace.”
I take my time as I stroll back toward Lev’s house, which is my house too, and I feel better than I’ve felt in years. My father hates me, and that’s okay.
His opinion isn’t important anymore.
But mine is.