Page 82 of Storm in a D Cup

‘Thank you. I’ll give it back tomorrow morning.’

‘No you won’t. I want you to sleep tonight.’

‘Mom never lets me read in bed.’

Of course not. For Genie Stacie beds were made for other activities.

19

Final Attempt

In the space of a few weeks, Joey was a newborn girl. Although Maddy was two years younger, she and Joey eventually began to hang out. She even took her to dance classes and out with Angelica and the rest of their friends for ice-cream in the afternoon and to the piazza in Castellino to check out the shops – and the boys.

I wished I could be as big-hearted toward Julian. He needed me, probably more than he’d ever needed me, and here I was, caught and weighed down by my own insecurities. But I’d do my best, because here was my moment to demonstrate to him that I was a bigger woman (no pun intended) than he’d thought, and yet, I kept screwing up his every attempt to get back on track with me. Each smile, each caress seemed like a betrayal to me, because I couldn’t help but imagine what he was like with Genie Stacie. But I knew I had to shake myself out of it. There was a young girl, two entire families, if you will, at stake. And I was the lynchpin. So because Julian and I still needed to work on us in order to get back where we used to be, I gave myself completely to everyone, making sure that Maddy in particular would accept her half-sister.

One of the family pictures we’d taken during a trip to the beach was sitting on Joey’s bedside table. A small knot formed in my throat. Poor thing. There were no other pictures. Not of her dad, not of her mother, not even of herself. So I went out and got her a large frame.

‘You can put more in here,’ I said as she unwrapped it, eyeing me, still unsure.

‘Can I go get my camera then, and take some around the house with you guys?’

The knot in my throat had blocked my air passage, so I just nodded as she skipped off happily, her lanky legs like a colt’s, so similar to Maddy. I swiped at my eyes and straightened her coverlet.

Denial was a vicious beast. I didn’t need Dr. Denholm – or even a two-year-old for that matter – to tell me what I was going through. In my desperation to become a mother again, I was willing Joey to need me, willing her to recognize in me a dependable source of affection and stability, love and comfort. In my mind, I’d already moved her in under our roof indefinitely, enrolled her at our local school, helped her decorate her own pretty room and so much more. In my heart, I’d already built a space for her where she could stretch out and begin to live her life among us.

Sunday was Joey’s birthday. I had made all her favorite dishes and Maddy and Warren had secretly collected a series of presents in my closet.

‘Happy birthday, sweetheart,’ I chimed as we all sang out of key, and she slapped her forehead and giggled. She seemed so different from the belligerent teenager who had darkened our door only a few weeks ago. We all hugged her and sat on her bed. ‘What would you like to do today, Joey?’

‘I don’t mind,’ she whispered.

‘Oh come on, birthday girl! It’s your day. Choose anything.’

She hesitated, her eyes wide as she looked at me in wonder, kind of like a mixture between love and gratitude. God, what a feeling! ‘Anything?’

I beamed down at her. ‘Absolutely.’

‘Well, Warren and Julian have been teaching me a bit about baseball…’

‘Baseball it is!’ Warren called, and soon the mob was calling teams. I glanced at Julian who squeezed my hand. We had so much love inside us to give. It was such a heart-warming feeling.

*

Genie Stacie’s movie,Beyond the Dunes, flopped before taking off. The producers had all pulled out, leaving an unpaid crew who fled Africa like bats out of hell. At least that’s what the media reported.

‘But what does this mean?’ I asked Julian.

‘It means that with no movie, she’ll be on her way back. Possibly within the next couple of days.’

Which turned out to be spot on. She drove up our drive, slamming her Lamborghini rental as if it were an old Dodge pick-up truck. Julian was out, which could’ve given me ample time to try and have a civilized conversation with her. I wasn’t all that optimistic, given the mood she was in. But I’d promised Julian I’d be on my best behavior.

She clopped up the stone steps leading to the front door and swung it open, dropping her bags in the hall. ‘Julian!’ she called, her voice echoing through the entrance.

I poked my head around the kitchen door. ‘Hi, Genie Stacie. Welcome back. Have a seat.’

At that, she eyed me, wondering just how much I knew about the movie and figuring that a country hick like me would know nothing about her world. ‘Would you like some coffee? Julian won’t be back for another hour,’ I explained as she barged in as if the joint was hers, sporting an Hermès (I know because it said so in big silver letters) bag the size of a boom box.

‘Another hour? I was banking on finding him here. I have to talk with him about some very important things.’

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