Page 88 of My Big Fat Italian Break-Up

Huh. Lucky sod indeed.

Wait a minute. He was gone, and she was going. There were no TV appearances or interviews scheduled, as far as I knew. Had I been wrong all along? Were they really…? And was he only pretending to be angry so he could dump me? No – stop it, I argued with myself like a schizophrenic. This is what got you into trouble in the first place, not trusting Julian.

But I still couldn’t help but wonder – had Alberto’s kiss been providential for Julian?

I don’t know how long I had been mulling over this, because Sienna had gone for a shower and now returned, and I was still at it.

‘Julian pushing you too hard?’ I bit off despite myself as I set the table and joined her for some nosh.

Sienna laughed. ‘Nah, I can take him. It’s my partner who’s worrying me.’

Yeah, yeah, your partner.

‘She’s pregnant and climbing the walls, so I need to be near her now.’

My head whipped up.She? Her? Pregnant?

Sienna laughed. ‘I get lots of surprised faces – oh, but yours, Erica! You should see yourself! You didn’t know because hardly anyone does. I try to protect Nina from the limelight.’

‘Nina? You mean yourassistant?’

‘Yeah, I know, I treat her like dirt, but only on the job. At home I’m as cuddly as a teddy bear. We see eye to eye at home, thank God.’ Sienna leaned back against the counter. ‘You know, Erica, I’ve been meaning to tell you…’

‘Tell me what?’

‘You two are my idea of happiness. You put up with so much from him, but I guess most guys are like that, huh?’

I looked up at her. Was all this real?

‘You’re always there for him, through thick and thin. And your kids – I wish my own mom had done for me what you do for your family,’ Sienna murmured, her voice cracking slightly.

My mouth dropped open as she stepped forward and hugged me briskly, then skimmed acupcakeoff the dessert tray.

‘And… she never once baked us anything. See you soon, Erica. Thank you for taking such good care of me.’ And with a generous bite, she left, mouth full, eyes shining.

Huh. Imagine that. Sienna Thornton-Jones, woman extraordinaire and completely indifferent to Julian’s charms. Me and my paranoia. Was there no limit to how I’d fallen, hook, line and sinker, into the stereotypical trap of some gorgeous career woman being a threat to normal moms like me? Was my brain that lazy that it preferred to settle for the easiest, most immediate interpretation available – that she was a glamorous bimbo whose eyes were set on my man, rather than even remotely considering entertaining another possibility? Did I have no imagination at all?

*

‘Mom, where’s Dad?’ Warren said as he and Maddy came back and helped themselves to the pork and potatoes. ‘I just saw Sienna driving off. He wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye, would he?’

Ha. You find your way out of that one if you can. ‘Of course not, sweetheart. Daddy’s very, very busy with his new book and he needs to promote it so you can both be proud of him.’ Now, where’s my Oscar, thank you very much?

‘I am very proud of Daddy,’ Maddy reassured as she popped a forkful of potato into her mouth. ‘He’s the best daddy I’ve ever had.’

Warren turned to look at me and I nodded. ‘And he loves you both very much. More than anything in the world.’

‘More than he loves you?’ she asked in awe.

That was an easy one, especially now. ‘Of course! You’re his little princess and Warren is his best mate… uh, pal.’

It was only then that I noticed how Julian’s British expressions had permeated our own Americanisms throughout the years. Julianhadchanged us, in so many ways. He’d had a positive and constructive influence on the kids. With his and my help, they’d flourished from being the children of a single-parent, slightly wary family to confident, thriving children. I know I’d done my part as a loving mother, but Julian? He’d been essential to their well-being and I’d always be grateful to him for that. I’d also love him until the day I died.

‘Don’t cry, Mummy,’ Maddy said, sliding off her chair to come and put her arms around my neck and planting a huge kiss on my cheek. ‘Daddy doesn’t love me more than you. It was just a joke.’

‘I’m not sad, sweetheart,’ I assured her. ‘I’m just so happy to be your mother.’

Warren continued to shovel pork and potatoes into his mouth but eyed me furtively. He was no idiot and would soon be asking questions.

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