Chapter 18
Annalise
“Can you believe this?” Alyssia says, outraged, gesturing toward the bulky man dressed in a black suit who walks about a foot ahead of us.
Her frustration with Travis’ security requirement is funny. They always travel with security but even when going around town, Trav prefers she go with at least one guard after what happened last year.
I adjust my sunglasses before replying. “I can, actually. We traveled almost everywhere with bodyguards as kids,” I tell her.
She pauses the stroller to adjust a sleeping Lucky. We’re on our way to lunch in the center of Monte-Carlo. It’s been a week since Bahrain, and Travis is at Amato’s headquarters for some meetings and training.
I’ve finished my work for the day, so I gave Alyssia a call to see if she wanted to go to lunch at one of our favorite seafood restaurants in town.
“I can’t imagine that,” she responds while lowering the shade piece over Lucky’s stroller. “If I don’t respond to his call or text in like twenty minutes, he starts freaking out and is ready to send in the calvary.”
“You do realize I’m the one who coordinates with your security team, right?” I remind her.
She gestures to me with one hand, looking exasperated. “Exactly that. A security team. Do we need an actual team?”
Alyssia looks to me as if expecting an answer.
“I mean, you were kidnapped while nine months pregnant.”
She rolls her eyes.
I want to laugh it off, but I remember the look in my brother’s eyes after that happened. As we come to the entrance of the restaurant, I stop in front of Alyssia.
“It might seem like overkill, but our family has always taken security seriously. We’ve had some instances in the past that warrant the need to take it seriously. Travis blamed himself so much for what happened to you.”
“I’ve told him repeatedly it wasn’t his fault. How was he to know that his teammate was willing to go that far?”
“Logic isn’t going to win you that argument,” I tell my sister-in-law. “Travis sees you and Lucky as his responsibility, and in his mind, he failed at taking care of you both when that happened. He won’t ever let it go.”
I don’t tell her that I think it’s better to be safer than sorry. I’m sure, in time, she’ll learn of the various security risks that’ve happened to my family over the years.
Our security enters the restaurant ahead of us, doing a broad sweep of the dining area with his hawkish gaze before stepping aside and allowing us through. Thanks to the reservation I made ahead of time, we’re able to quickly find our way to a table by the window with a nice view of the bay.
“I’ll get that.” I take Lucky’s stroller from Alyssia, and the staff quickly swoops in to fold the stroller for us and take it to be stored away while we eat. A beat later, our hostess brings a highchair for Lucky.
“Did I show you this?” Alyssia asks, holding up a fire engine red bib with Travis’ face on it.
“No way.” I laugh. “Did he have that made for him?” I watch as Alyssia secures the velcro around the back of Lucky’s head.
“Of course he did,” she says. “He showed up with it one day last week.”
“It is kind of adorable,” I say.
Alyssia nods, smoothing the bib over Lucky’s chest.
“And it comes in handy.” She uses the edge to wipe a line of drool that’s dripping down my nephew’s chin.
“How’s the teething going?” I ask.
“Terrible. Poor guy was up until midnight last night crying and rubbing his gums.”
I shake my head. “I don’t envy you at all. He just got over the flu it seems like.”
She nods. “We both did. But your mom says it’s normal and that Trav had a pretty hard time teething.”
I smile, knowing Alyssia has my mom to talk to about baby things since she can’t talk to her own mother about it.
“But while thinking about his teething, I actually started to cry last night.”
My eyes widen in concern. “Was it that bad?” I look over at my nephew, who’s now using one of his fists as a chew toy.
“No.” She shakes her head. “It was all me. He’s teething, which means he’s getting bigger. I’ll blink and he’ll be in kindergarten. Then he’ll be graduating high school and going off to college. He’s almost out of the door.”
I can’t stop the grin that spreads when I see her eyes actually watering.
“I think we still have a few more days before he’s out of the house and married with a kid of his own on the way.”
“Oh my god, he’s going to get married one day,” she whines.
“How about we just make it through lunch?”
Alyssia laughs at herself, and I tickle Lucky’s belly.
“Can you let your mom and me make it through lunch before you find the love of your life, little man? Huh?” He gives me a gummy, drool-filled smile and my heart melts.
“I suppose we might have a little more time,” Alyssia says.
“Right? He’ll probably have to learn how to use a knife and fork before he leaves the nest.”
“And be potty-trained.”
“That too.”
Our laughter is broken up by our waitress approaching with menus and a plate of bread and dipping oil for the table.
“Can I?” I hold up a piece of bread and gesture to Lucky.
“Of course.” She waves me off and begins taking a look at the menu.
I start to hand Lucky the piece of bread, but when his chubby little hand reaches for it, I tug it back. It’s not on purpose or one of those cute little games one likes to play with babies.
Did you remember to wash your hands? What if your fingers have infected the bread and he gets sick?
The thoughts start.
Around and around, out of nowhere, my mind has taken over, and I can’t help but to think that I could accidentally kill my nephew by handing him a piece of bread.
“You know,” I start to say, the bread still between my fingertips, “a few years ago I read an article about a toddler who got sick from a hot dog that wasn’t fully cooked at a barbecue. He was in the hospital for almost two months.”
Alyssia’s eyebrows narrow as she pins me with a curious gaze from across the table. Slowly, she lowers the menu and leans in. “That was an intrusive thought, wasn’t it?”
I close my eyes and nod.
“You won’t hurt him,” she assures me.
I have to fight the thoughts that tell me she’s wrong. The words circling in my mind that tell me over and over that because I failed to wash my hands thoroughly enough Lucky’s going to get sick because I’ve touched his bread.
“Give him the bread,” Alyssia says in a calm, reassuring voice.
Then the guilt and self-loathing start. She shouldn’t have to reassure me.
“It’s fine, Annalise.”
Clearing my throat, I sit up straight. But it’s not until Lucky shrieks and reaches for the bread that I finally release it from between my fingers.
It reaches his mouth in less than a second as he starts gumming the bread to shreds.
“You have no idea how happy I was once he started being able to eat other foods besides breastmilk.”
Alyssia smiles before going on to talk about how exhausting it was being at his constant beck and call to feed.
I’m grateful that she doesn’t dwell on my thoughts. At times like this, I’m grateful for a sister-in-law who’s studied psychology.
“We’ve established that he won’t be going off to college tomorrow, but I can’t believe his first birthday will be coming up in a couple of months.”
I nod and take a sip of the sparkling water I ordered. Lucky’s birthday is at the end of August.
“It’s almost May, and logically that feels like enough time, but I can’t believe how fast the past few months have flown by. And with the season in full swing, everything feels like a blur.”
“I can plan the party for you,” I tell her without thinking.
Her brows spike. “Seriously?”
I nod. “Are you kidding? I accidentally found myself on Pinterest two days ago looking up toddler birthday party themes.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Honestly. Trav mentioned it the other day while on our call with Tristan, and I couldn’t help but look up a few things.” Every few weeks, Tristan, Travis, and I have what we call our “triplet call.”
Even with our busy schedules and time difference, there’s something grounding about being on the phone with the two people who’ve been with me since day one. Literally.
Once in a while our youngest sister, Chloe, will join in on the call.
“I’ll send you over some looks I found to give you some ideas. We’ll have to decide where we’ll have the party. We can do it here in Monaco or back in the States since it’s probably best to have the party during Travis’ summer break.”
Alyssia nods. “That’s what I was thinking as well. You’re on top of things already. Travis is right when he says his life wouldn’t work without you.”
I roll my eyes. “He’d be fine.”
“No, honestly. I don’t think so. I mean, maybe, but you should know how grateful he is to have you. We both are.” She squeezes my arm. “I mean, I know you’re his sister, his third,” she says, using the corny nickname Tristan, Travis, and I have for one another. “But …”
“What?” My shoulders stiffen at the hesitancy in her tone.
I watch as Alyssia breaks off another piece of bread and hands it to Lucky. He happily accepts it, making a mess of his hands full of drool saturated crumbs.
Alyssia waits until our waitress has placed our plates in front of us. I opted for the grilled prawn and mango salad while Alyssia went with the seared tuna. Lucky is happy with the smashed green peas Alyssia brought to feed him along with the bread.
“I don’t know,” she says, picking up our previous conversation. “Travis was telling me the other day how happy you were the day you graduated from law school. He said you had big plans to go into sports and entertainment law.”
My stomach clenches almost to the point of cramping.
When she doesn’t continue, I assume it’s because Trav didn’t give her the full story on why I left that career. In truth, Travis doesn’t know the whole story himself.
“I did,” I say, hesitantly. “I still do to an extent.”
Alyssia gives me a pointed look. She doesn’t have to say it for me to know what she’s thinking.
I’m not really working in sports and entertainment law.
I’m merely my brother’s assistant. My usual excuse that I am still working in my field of choice, that I work and coordinate with professional athletes, sponsors, and agents on an almost daily basis, doesn’t quite hold up today. Not even in my own mind.
“I’m figuring things out,” I finally say to Alyssia. That’s all I can give right now.
I don’t tell her about the calls and talks I’ve had with my friend, Jen, who also questions my decision to continue working as my brother’s assistant, even though in the beginning I said it was a short-term gig.
“I understand that,” Alyssia says, her voice full of sympathy. “I was just doing some inquiry on which Ph.D. program I wanted to pursue the other day.”
Alyssia wants to get her Ph.D. in psychology to eventually work with children and families experiencing grief.
“No. I’m not going to ask you to research programs for me,” she says before the words can even pass my lips.
I hold up my hands. “I wasn’t even—”
“Yes you were.”
We laugh, because yes, I was going to offer to send her some pamphlets from schools here in Europe and the States. But I know she already has that covered.
“Speaking of—”
“Annalise? I thought that was you,” an unwelcome feminine voice interrupts me.
I look up toward the woman standing behind Alyssia and my smile drops instantly.
“Mrs. Ferreira,” Alyssia greets with a smile.
“Alyssia, how are you?” Max’s mother asks. “I don’t want to interrupt but I saw you two here and just had to stop by and say hello.”
I bite my tongue to keep from telling her she should’ve kept walking.
“Oh my gosh, and sweet, little Lucky,” she coos, but to my ears the enthusiasm feels forced. “They’re so precious at this age. Just you wait until they start talking. Won’t be able to get him to stop talking.”
“I look forward to hearing him speak,” I say, not looking at her. “I’m sure Alyssia does as well.”
My sister-in-law gives me a brief, questioning look before answering, “I already adore his little gurgles and the way he says ‘mama’.”
“Well,” Mrs. Ferreira stands to her full height and brushes imaginary lint away from her pink, silk top, “we all think that as new parents. I recall when Max was two years old. We couldn’t get him to stop talking. Kept his poor father and me up all night sometimes.”
My jaw begins to ache from how hard I clench my teeth together to keep from telling her to fuck off, or better yet, reminding her that he was a toddler and probably needed her attention more than her scorn.
“They don’t call it the terrible twos for nothing, I guess,” Alyssia replies.
“Or maybe it was a term coined by people who simply lacked the patience to be actual parents.”
Two pairs of eyes land on me. One full of surprise, the other full of derision. At least, that’s what I assume since I refuse to look Mrs. Ferreira’s way.
Alyssia clears her throat, throwing me another curious glance. I take a sip of my sparkling water, suddenly uninterested in my prawns.
“While it can be tough, parenthood is truly a gift,” Mrs. Ferreira tries to smooth over. She leans over toward Lucky, sticking out her finger for him to take.
I tighten my hands into fists, lest I reach over and push her hand away from him.
“Isn’t that right, Lucky?” she coos.
I don’t even try to fight the grin that spreads across my face when Lucky lets out an eardrum bursting screech. It’s so loud a few other patrons look our way.
Alyssia gasps in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry,” she says, reaching over to pick Lucky up out of his highchair. “He’s teething,” she gives as an explanation.
I hand her his diaper bag so she can retrieve the teething ring she’s brought. Lucky takes it right away and begins gumming it the same way he did the bread.
“I suppose I should be going,” Max’s mother says. “I wanted to say hello.”
I don’t bother acknowledging her as she leaves us.
Alyssia leans into the table. “What was that about?”
I shrug. “I think we just discovered that my nephew has a pretty good read on people.”