14. Reed
Reed
If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under, buried under a mound of dirt, and Amelia would be holding the shovel. I promised her I wouldn’t say anything to her parents about the marriage, but damn, they got under my skin.
Somehow, I was the bad guy in the entire situation. I told them I’d give up my life and move to be close to our baby and Amelia, but it still didn’t satisfy them.
On top of them, Amelia has done her best to push me away. I don’t care what anyone else says or does; I will not be forced out of my kid’s life and, by extension, Amelia’s.
“Fuck,” Amelia hisses, dropping her face into her hands at my side.
“Excuse me?” Mrs. Gallo, Amelia’s mom, says as her eyes narrow on me.
“Repeat that,” her father says, his look more murderous than his wife’s. “Because I must’ve heard you wrong.”
I should feel bad. I didn’t hurl a grenade into the conversation; I lobbed a whole-ass bomb right into the middle of everything.
“Amelia,” her mother says when I don’t answer right away. “What is he talking about?”
Amelia peers up, pushing her dark brown hair back over her shoulders. “Surprise,” she says, her voice filled with zero enthusiasm or joy. “I’m married and pregnant.”
Mrs. Gallo’s hand moves to her throat as she lets out a strangled sound. “I can’t believe…”
“We’ll hire a lawyer and handle everything,” her father says.
“I already had the paperwork drawn up,” I inform him, wanting everything out in the open. “It’s why I came to Chicago. I wanted to bring the papers personally.”
Mr. Gallo turns that hard stare on his daughter. “And did you sign them?”
She shakes her head, paling a little. “No, Dad. We need to settle custody of the baby and have new paperwork drawn up. I couldn’t in good conscience sign them without telling Reed about the baby.”
Her father draws in a deep breath and closes his eyes like he’s about to meditate or enter some altered state.
Most men would shit their pants in my situation.
The man is enormous. I’m a big guy, but he’s bigger, which is something I’m not used to because most men are shorter and nowhere near as built as me.
“How did this happen?” Mrs. Gallo asks, her gaze swinging between Amelia and me.
“A lot of vodka,” Amelia says.
“Tequila, actually,” I correct her, remembering we switched from martinis to margaritas and shots very clearly.
“You’re not helping,” Amelia mutters under her breath so only I can hear.
“Tequila is the devil. Nothing good happens when it’s in your system,” her mother replies.
Her father opens his eyes, and there’s a calmness about him that wasn’t there a minute ago. Whatever transitive state he went into helped. “My lawyer will have paperwork drawn up before the weekend ends. We’ll get this marriage over with as soon as possible.”
“We haven’t decided anything yet,” I tell him.
I don’t let any man bully me, not even a man I looked up to my entire childhood. He is a legend in the sport I love the most, but that doesn’t mean I am going to let him steamroll me either.
“What’s to decide?” he replies.
“The baby changes everything,” I say, reaching for Amelia’s hand. To my surprise, she doesn’t pull away. “Amelia and I have a lot to discuss. I didn’t have a clue about the baby until recently.”
“We haven’t had much time with the news ourselves,” her mother says.
“Hello,” Amelia says. “It’s not like I have either. I’m the one who’s pregnant, and it was a shock… It still is.”
“Of course, sweetheart,” her mother says. “It had to be shocking. I was surprised when I got pregnant with you, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t the happiest moment of my life. Are you happy?”
“I don’t know what I am,” Amelia tells her.
I can’t begin to imagine what she’s going through. All I can do is be here for her in any way I can to make the pregnancy as easy on her as possible.
“You’ll feel better once the divorce is finalized,” her dad says. He’s relentless. Now he’s too focused on the marriage to worry about the role I’ll play in his grandchild’s life.
“Excuse me, sir. I don’t mean to be rude, but I refuse to rush into anything—or out of it, for that matter,” I tell him, giving Amelia’s hand a squeeze.
“You had no problem rushing into it, didn’t you?” he replies.
“While we have some regrets about that weekend, marrying your daughter wasn’t one of mine.”
Her father’s eyebrows rise.
I don’t let him continue to steer the conversation. I can’t. “The amount of tequila I ingested is a huge regret, but having your daughter walk down the aisle to me doesn’t even land on my top ten Vegas regrets.”
“Are you saying you don’t want the divorce?” he asks.
“I’m saying the baby has me wanting to put everything on pause until we figure shit out. Amelia and I have stayed in contact since the day we said goodbye in Vegas. I like your daughter. Hell, she’s a ballbuster, and nothing is more attractive to me than a woman who can stand her own ground.”
“She gets that from her mother,” he mutters, side-eyeing his wife.
I lean forward, wanting him to know I mean what I’m about to say.
“And for the sake of our child, I think we need to figure out what we are to each other before we end things for good. We’re going to spend the rest of our lives intertwined, and to walk away from the possibilities of a future now would be foolish and irresponsible. ”
“We can’t stay married,” Amelia says from my side. “You don’t want that.”
I swing my gaze to the beautiful woman next to me. “I think we owe it to our kid to make sure we know exactly what we want before we pull a trigger on something we can’t undo.”
“Do you know what’s more detrimental to a child than having two parents who aren’t together?” her mom asks, eyeing me from across the living room. “Two parents who stay together but hate each other.”
“I agree, ma’am,” I say.
“I refuse to trap you,” Amelia says with another squeeze of my hand. “I’m not that woman.”
“Who said I was trapped if I want to be caught?” I ask her.
Her father whistles. “You’re a smooth talker. I see how you worked your way into my daughter’s heart.”
“It wasn’t my heart,” Amelia replies as her cheeks turn a bright shade of pink.
Her father holds out a hand. “Stop. I don’t want to hear another word about it.” He stands again, grabbing his glass off the side table next to his chair. “I need something stronger. Anyone else?”
I shake my head. That’s what got us into this situation to begin with. “I’m good.”
“Vinnie, sit down,” Mrs. Gallo says, reaching for his hand before he has a chance to disappear into the kitchen again.
“Bianca,” he whispers, but he doesn’t take another step as he stares down at his wife.
“Please,” she begs.
He doesn’t say a word as he relaxes back into his chair at his wife’s side.
“Amelia.” Her mother turns her attention back to her daughter as soon as Mr. Gallo’s in his spot again. “What do you want?”
Amelia lifts one shoulder. “I don’t know.”
“I plan to give Amelia all the space and time she needs, but for now, everything’s on pause until she can make a decision,” I answer, although the question wasn’t directed at me. “I’ll do whatever Amelia wants, but I need her to know I’m not walking away.”
“Then it’s not whatever Amelia wants,” her mother says.
“I do want to be in the child’s life, but if Amelia doesn’t want me in hers, I’ll exit Chicago as quickly as possible. But I want her to make sure that’s what she really wants before we go to court.”
Mr. Gallo’s phone vibrates, and as soon as he glances down at the screen, he curses.
“What’s wrong?” Mrs. Gallo asks.
“My parents are downstairs,” he replies.
“Oh no,” Amelia mutters.
“Oh, Betty’s going to love this,” Mrs. Gallo says, shaking her head. “But your dad…”
“Is going to shit a brick,” he finishes her sentence.
“Can we ignore them?” Amelia asks.
Her father shakes his head. “I forgot your mother invited them over for dinner.”
“I thought it would be nice since Reed is the baby’s father.”
“You opened up a can of worms that we won’t be able to close, no matter how hard we try,” he tells her. “Why would you think they needed to meet Reed?”
Her mother waves her hands. “Hello. Baby daddy.”
Mr. Gallo growls.
“Well, honey, he is, and it’s not like we can hide him forever.”
“Fuck me,” he mutters, stalking toward their front door.
I lean over toward Amelia. “Should I be scared of your grandpa?”
Amelia nods. “He has a past.”
“I think every older person does,” I tell her.
Amelia swallows. “Not like his.”
“What do you mean?” I whisper as my stomach starts to drop.
“I mean, if he wants you to disappear, you disappear.”
I stare at her, searching her eyes as she stares back. “You’re joking.”
She shakes her head. “I’d never joke about that.”
“He wouldn’t.”
She raises an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”
I’m suddenly not sure about anything. I’ve seen the old movies and documentaries. I know the history of organized crime in Chicago, but I thought that was a thing of the past.
My grandfather wasn’t in the mob, but there was nothing soft about that man. He died five years ago, but he’s still talked about like he was a legend. People in our area never messed with him, because if they did, they would come away with a new scar to mark the occasion.
“Great,” I mutter as Mr. Gallo opens the front door to two of the cutest older people I’ve ever seen.
From a distance, the man doesn’t look like he could end my life. But I know better than anyone, looks can be deceiving.
After a quick greeting, her grandmother pushes past Mr. Gallo and stalks our way. She opens her arms to Amelia before she’s halfway across the living room. “Oh, my baby,” she says, pulling Amelia into a hug as soon as she rises from the couch. “How are you feeling today?”
“I don’t know, Gram,” Amelia answers, letting her grandmother smother her with love.
A moment later, the older woman’s eyes are on me. “And this must be the man…”
Here we go. Another person who thinks I knocked up Amelia against her will. Like somehow she was the innocent bystander while I was the bad guy. We are both culpable for what happened, and neither of us has the slightest memory of the event either.
I rise to my feet, towering over the woman. “I’m Reed, ma’am.”
The woman cranes her neck back, peering up at me. There’s no hatred in her stare. “Well, aren’t you a tall drink of water. Handsome as the devil too.” She holds out her hand to me.
I take it, and instead of shaking it, I kiss the top. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“A smooth one too,” she whispers. “But sweetie, we hug in this family.”
I don’t have a chance to say anything else before she releases Amelia and has her arms around my body a second later.
“A strong one,” she says as her hands settle on the middle of my back near my spine. “A strapping young man.”
I nearly snort but somehow keep it locked down.
“Ma, please let go of him,” Vinnie says as his mother has herself wrapped around me.
“Betty, release the boy,” her husband says, coming up behind her.
“He’s not a boy, Sal. This is a man. A strong, young man.” She glances up at me and winks. “Amelia did good.”
Her husband rolls his eyes. “Fuck me.”
The profanity is shocking. Not because I don’t swear. I do. Hell, I swear all the time, but in my neck of the woods, older folks don’t. Or at least, they don’t in front of strangers and all the time.
“Let him go, Ma,” Vinnie says again. He’s not annoyed with his mother. Every ounce of his agitated state is focused on me. “He’s the reason why Amelia’s pregnant.”
There we go. I’m the bad guy. Of course I am. There isn’t a person in this room who doesn’t think that.
Her grandmother, Betty, releases her grip on me and spins around to face her son.
“It takes two to tango, baby. He’s no more to blame than my beautiful granddaughter.
They’re young and were having fun. You remember what that’s like, don’t you?
” she asks but doesn’t give him time to reply before she goes on.
“I know it was a long time ago for you, but I’m sure you can reach into your memory and remember your youth. ”
The woman is cold and slick. I like her. I like her a lot. Amelia gets her sass from her mother and grandmother. My mother and sisters would get along too well with this group of women.
“Ma, be nice, and this is different.”
“There’s nothing different about it. Hormones are a powerful thing when you’re young. Look at these two beautiful people,” her grandmother says, swinging her arm between us. “There’s no blame to be had, son. They did what young people do.”
She’s mighty understanding for an older person. I’m not sure if my grandmother were alive if she’d feel the same way.
“This is a happy occasion,” she adds. “They’re giving me a great-grandchild and you a grandchild.”
“Fuck. I don’t know if I’m ready,” Vinnie says.
“To be a young grandfather is a wonderful thing,” Mr. Gallo, the patriarch of the family, says. “I’ve loved having so much time with all my grandchildren.”
I don’t know if I believe them about the grandfather. He seems so sweet. But what do I know? He might be a wolf in sheep’s clothing. According to them, I should be petrified of him.
“You’ll see,” the elder Gallo says.
“Sure, Pop. I’m going to love the hell out of the baby.”
The grandfather turns toward Amelia. “How’s my little girl?” he asks her, holding his arms open.
“Pop,” she says, moving into his embrace. “I’m okay.”
The grandfather stares at me over her shoulder as he hugs her. I swallow hard at the look on his face that’s aimed squarely at me.
“We have a lot to discuss,” her grandfather says, and I know he’s talking to me directly.
“You have no idea,” Vinnie says.
“What’s the face for?” her grandmother asks Vinnie. “Are we having twins?”
Amelia winces as she moves out of her grandfather’s embrace. “Oh God. Don’t curse me like that.”
“They’re married,” Bianca, Amelia’s mother, says, so damn casually, I would’ve almost missed the bombshell if I were a simple bystander in the room.
“They’re what?” The grandmother’s head snaps from Bianca to Amelia to me.
And when the grandfather’s eyes swing to me, I want to disappear into the wall, never to be seen again. “I need a strong drink before we have this conversation,” he tells Vinnie.
“Good or bad?” I ask Amelia.
“Bad,” she whispers. “Real bad.”
Shit.