Page 16 of Storm in a D Cup

‘Jesus.’

‘Yeah. I’m going to have to do something about her drinking. It’s way out of hand – more than I thought.’

‘Honey,’ he said, hugging me. ‘You are not your stepmother’s keeper. She’s an adult and has to learn to take care of herself. Or if not, she has plenty of people to lean on. You live on the other side of the Atlantic and have got your hands full enough as it is, yes?’

I frowned. He was right – I was the least qualified in any case to deal with her, what with our stormy past. Needless to say Marcy had shattered three couples including her own marriage in the space of five minutes and in less than two hours each had boarded a different plane back home. What should’ve been two weeks of hell was concentrated in three days. One needs to always look for the silver lining.

*

A week later I called my dad’s cell phone to make sure he hadn’t suddenly lost his cool and murdered her. ‘Hey, Dad, how are you?’

A long, long sigh. ‘I swear to you, Erica, your mother is killing me. After forty-three years she still drives me crazy. She’s going to die an old selfish woman. And even if she lived to be a hundred years old, she will never be like my Manu.’

Just the thought of my real mother made me smile. When I didn’t burst into tears.

‘Dad…’ I faltered. This was the very first time I’d ever heard him complain about Marcy. I always thought he was happy to be her slave, valet, et cetera. How the hell was I supposed to know he was suffering this much?

He cleared his throat. ‘Sweetie, I’m sorry. But I’ve had enough. For years I’ve put up with your mother and now I know that I’ll be spending our next anniversary in jail because I am going to kill her very soon.’

5

Taking the Plunge

With the clan gone and everything back to normal, I worked up the courage to tell my husband exactly what I thought of his baby idea. That babies shouldn’t be marriage fixers, that I was too old, we were too busy and he was never around anyway. Besides – look at the trouble big families brought. All perfectly solid reasons, right?

But when he brought me breakfast in bed (how sweet was he?) I decided that, at the end of the day, Julian was completely different from my family and that heshouldexperience the joys (the pains were all for moms) of fatherhood. And that he was definitely worth nine months of gastric reflux, chronic backache and swollen feet. (He liked me even when I was cranky.)

‘We should do it,’ I said while I took a sip of my coffee, the kids still in bed.

‘Do what?’ he asked, looking up from his paper.

‘You know, the kid thing,’ I whispered into my mug, feeling my face go hot.

Rustling of paper. Intake of breath. His. I was already holding mine.

‘Really, Erica?’ he whispered.

I put my mug down and straightened my hair, flashing him my version of the famous Cantelli smile – all teeth and no confidence whatsoever. Because Renata’s words kept ringing in my ears.A baby fixes a marriage.Did I really agree with her? My mind said I didn’t. My heart told me I was crazy, butmewas terrified of getting pregnant for all the wrong reasons. All I could think was:What if we do need a baby to change things?

‘Yeah, absolutely. I’ve thought about it. I’m ready.’

Julian squeezed my hand and dropped a delicious kiss on my lips and pulled me out of my chair with a mischievous, sexy smile that promised a couple of fun hours.

Judy and Renata, zero – my marriage, one.

*

‘Keep your legs up, sweetheart,’ Julian whispered as he finally pulled out of me some time later. Did I sayfinally? I didn’t mean it like that, but he was really taking his time. I mean, don’t get me wrong – he has never been hasty in the bedroom; on the contrary, Julian’s always been deliciously thorough – but now, it was like he wanted to make extra sure his parcel had been delivered and signed for. I sure hoped it would work. I hated to see Julian disappointed.

But then again, not being a parent would actually spare him some other major disappointments, i.e. some huge milestones in the parenting process. Like when your kids become teenagers and eat the flower of Superior Knowledge. Suddenly they know everything and allyouare is a blooming idiot. Nothing you say holds its weight anymore. You’ve lost all your clout and they spend more time in their bedroom doing God knows what when we only had a telephone and magazines, a stash of junk food, plus the occasional joint. What harm could we get up to?

But this generation – if you so much as evenlookedat them in a manner they didn’t like you’d get a shower of expletives that would last you a week. But a mother’s gotta be a mother, no matter what. I was the opposite of my own flaky, glamorous stand-in mom in every way. And to be honest, it was important to exercise my authority over my children while I still could. It made for great learning moments to remember throughout their lives. And boy did I make sure I did it thoroughly.

‘No, Maddy. You can’t wear high heels,’ I later told my daughter. ‘They’re bad for your back and Mila is against them. And I’m against them.’

‘Mo-om!’

‘They ruin your posture. Besides, you’re already five foot eight.’

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