Lorenzo is eating Singapore noodles directly from the box, a smug smile on his face. “I counted the days. I took Chiara’s temperature. I was there for her most fertile days. I don’t know why this is even a discussion. It’s my baby.”
Cassius scowls at him. “You arranged things in your favor, you cheating bastardo, but that doesn’t rule the rest of us out.”
“Chiara, whose baby do you think it is?” Lorenzo asks, picking through his Singapore noodles with his chopsticks, but his hawklike gaze is on me.
“Yes, mother’s instinct,” Cassius says. “My grandmother knew right away she was pregnant without taking any tests. All nine times.”
“Nine?” I say, horrified. “Nine babies? Just so you know, I’m drawing the line at four.”
“One for each of us,” Salvatore says.
“Let’s make it five,” Lorenzo says. “One for Chiara, too. And one more go at knocking her up.”
“Four,” I insist. “And as for who the father is…” All four men sit up with interest. “I have no idea. I’m not an Italian grandmother.”
“Will we take a paternity test?” Salvatore asks.
The four of them exchange glances, but none of them have an answer.
Vinicius chews a dumpling thoughtfully. “If you want to have four, kitten, then do we try for one from each of us or just let nature take its course?”
Lorenzo reaches for the stir-fried greens. “Let’s just mess with her birth control until we have ten kids, and then at least two of them should belong to each of us.”
I nearly drop my plate. “Lorenzo!”
Salvatore points his chopsticks at Lorenzo. “No way, Doctor Evil. We agree to that, then the next thing we know, there are ten baby Lorenzos running around. Can you imagine? What a nightmare.”
“I’m kidding,” Lorenzo says, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells me he’s more than a little serious.
Cassius swallows his mouthful of noodles. “We all want at least one child, yes? So how do we make sure that happens?”
Lorenzo already has an answer. “Next time we’re trying, only one of us is allowed to cream pie her at a time. Everyone else has to pull out.”
Vinicius is drinking wine, chokes, and nearly spits it out. He wipes the back of his hand over his mouth and asks, “Kitten, do I have to explain what a cream pie is?”
“I can guess from context. Lorenzo, you’re so romantic.”
“I’m so fucking romantic,” he agrees.
“If you all want charts, paternity tests, and cream pie schedules, that’s your business. I prefer to leave things up to nature.” I rub my belly. “She’s done pretty well for us so far.”
Cassius smiles at me. “Look at you. So motherly already.”
Right now I’m rubbing a food baby, but there’s a real baby in there somewhere. My fears have vanished as we’ve talked. “Oh, I forgot to say something.”
All four men freeze and stare at me, Salvatore and Lorenzo with their chopsticks halfway to their mouths.
“I love you all.”
Salvatore’s expression relaxes into a smile. “We love you too, baby.”
Cassius is sitting next to me and pats his knee.
I move closer and he scoops me into his lap and I wrap my arms around his neck. “Ti amo, bambina. I’m so proud of you.”
I wriggle my way into the comfiest position on his lap and rest against his strong chest. “Will you still cuddle me like this if I’m as big as a house?”
“You are going to be so beautiful when you start to show, and you had better cuddle me. With your cute belly, I’ll still be bigger.”
I close my eyes, a blissful smile on my face.
I’m happy, I realize.
We’re going to have a baby.
Our baby. All five of us.
The next morning I’m in the kitchen with Lorenzo when Salvatore comes downstairs. He stayed the night in my bed and he looks fresh-faced and happy when he kisses me good morning.
“Baby, I’ve booked you the same obstetrician as Ginevra, is that all right? She says he’s been wonderful.”
“Thank you, I think that’s a great idea.”
“Wonderful. Your appointment is at the end of the week.”
“Put it in the group chat,” Lorenzo tells him. “Make sure everyone knows what’s going on.”
“Good idea,” Salvatore agrees, taking out his phone.
Hearing them talk like this makes me smile. Nine years, I remind myself. They’ve been closer than most friends are for the last nine years. Sharing Coldlake came easy to them, and then sharing me. They couldn’t wait for us to all be together, and that’s not just because of the sex. They love seeing each other happy and getting what they crave.
My hand drifts down to my belly. And now they’re sharing you, little one. You have the most handsome and good-hearted fathers. They already love you so much. I can see it in their faces.
“Was there ever a time when the four of you didn’t get along?” I ask.
“Apart from Cassius and I nearly coming to blows when I locked him out of the compound?”
Apart from that. Thankfully they’re getting along now.
Lorenzo scratches the side of his face. “Well, there was a Halloween incident that involved a mask and a chainsaw…”
Salvatore grins. “But we don’t talk about that.”
On Thursday afternoon, I drive with Cassius to my appointment, and he holds my hand most of the way and hums in a deep baritone. Lorenzo follows in his car, and Salvatore and Vinicius meet us in the parking lot.
The obstetrician’s office is in a leafy, wealthy neighborhood in Salvatore’s territory. I surreptitiously glance at the other pregnant women in the waiting room, wondering how many weeks along they are. They gape openly at my four men, three of them in suits and one of them in tight jeans and an even tighter T-shirt that leaves none of his muscles to the imagination.
I can’t help a small smile of pride. My men are smoking hot.
I haven’t been in public for so long that I forgot how strange we must look to other people. When I accept a paper cup of water from Cassius and kiss him, then take Vinicius’ hand, people’s eyes grow even wider. Lorenzo gets up and stands in front of me, shoving his hands into his pockets and glaring around the room. Everyone looks quickly back down at their magazines.
“Chiara?” calls a man who just appeared in the doorway at the far end of the room. He’s tall and skinny with haphazardly curly hair and is wearing a doctor’s coat.
I get to my feet and so do all my men. As we walk en masse toward the obstetrician, he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and frowns in confusion.
“Ah, who’s the father?”
The four men glance at each other, amusement and pride glimmering around their lips. Cassius smooths his tie. “All of us.”
“Can we all come in with Chiara?” Vinicius asks.
The obstetrician’s eyebrows creep up his forehead. He glances at Salvatore, realizes who these men are who are accompanying the formidable son of Francesco Fiore, and quickly covers his astonishment.
“Of course. Just wait here a moment. Let me get Chiara settled into an appropriate room and then I’ll come back for you all.”