Breakfast in Bed

chapter 15


BECCA SAT CROSS-LEGGED ON THE BED AND ATE HER container of goat cheese and eggplant ravioli and almost all of the grilled vegetables in the other to-go container like a starving woman. She wasn't sure if the sex or the marriage proposal was to blame for her appetite, or the thought that she couldn't possibly say something terrible if her mouth was full.
Rich leaned back against the footboard of the bed facing the same meal, watching her, and eating quietly, which was very unlike him. The man did nothing quietly. He talked during sex, and if she wasn't imagining things last night, he even talked in his sleep. He must have been dreaming of work because he got this very professional quality to his voice.
Becca wasn't about to ask what was going through his mind, because even though the sex was, in a word, amazing, Rich probably wouldn't be thinking of sex, or love, or anything any normal person would think about when someone just dropped the L bomb. No, Rich was anything but normal. He couldn't be happy that she filleted herself to tell him that she loved him. No, that wasn't good enough. Rich had to top it and drop the M bomb. She still reeled from his proposal and had no idea what to do about it or how to put the two of them back on a level playing field.
Sure, they tabled the marriage discussion for the moment. They made love, and finally ate, but the problem lurked in the background like termites eating away at the foundation of their relationship. Becca had to deal with it soon, before much more damage was done. But what could she say? She didn't know if she wanted to marry Rich. She loved him. She was happy with him so far, but marriage? Why couldn't they just stay the way they were?
Rich tossed his to-go container on the bedside table with its contents only half eaten and nudged her with his foot. "How's the construction coming along on the studio and the apartment?"
She swallowed a piece of grilled zucchini before answering. "Good. The plumbing and electrical are almost complete. The inspector is coming in a few days, and then they'll start on the drywall."
Rich took on a Mr. Darcy-esque aura, all dark and brooding. "How much longer until you get an occupancy permit?"
"I don't know. A couple months maybe. It's hard to tell. There's a lot of finishing that needs to be done." She tilted her head trying to read his thoughts. Maybe he wanted an "I Do" or nothing. "Are you looking forward to getting rid of me?"
"If I were, would I have asked you to marry me?"
Becca looked down at her container and found it empty. The veggies were all gone too. She piled the container onto the table and scooted closer to him. "You can always move into the new place with me. There's plenty of room."
Rich shook his head. "I just want to know how long I have to work on you." He finally smiled. "I'm good at wearing you down."
Becca wasn't sure what he meant by that, but she wasn't brave enough to ask. It seemed a good time to change the subject. "Are you going to call your Aunt Rose and ask if she'll make the lasagna?"
"I guess I could, but maybe you should. She likes you."
Becca fluffed her pillow and thought about getting up to brush her teeth, but that would involve moving, and she was bone tired. She yawned as she lay down. "Your aunt did tell me she'd teach me how to make it when I wanted to learn."
Rich lay beside her and pulled her close to him. "See, I knew you could handle it."
"Of course I can. That doesn't mean I should. If I have to put up with a cooking lesson from your crazy Aunt Rose, you should too."
"Are you afraid of a little old Italian lady?"
Becca thought about the last time she had seen Aunt Rose and what she'd said. "Damn straight, I am. You're not making me deal with her on my own."
"Fine. You know my schedule. Just let me know when you set it up, and I'll be here to protect you."
"Oh good." She rested her head on his shoulder and curled her fist under her chin. "I feel so much better now."

Tuesday morning Becca awoke alone. When she rolled over, she found the dishes from last night had been removed, and in their place, a thermal cup of coffee waited for her. She took a tentative sip; it was still hot and surprisingly good. Either Rich mastered the art of making good coffee, or he was paying someone to sneak in every morning to make it. Tripod butted his head against the cup and yowled. "Did Rich forget to give you the dregs of his coffee this morning, big boy?" She scratched his neck and around his ears.
Tripod answered her in the affirmative as she unearthed her robe and slid it on. "Come on then, you caffeine-deprived kitty."
Tripod followed her to the kitchen and waited as patiently as he could for her to pour a little coffee with cream into a saucer. She wasn't sure if he liked sugar, but then thought about what she was doing and almost smacked her own head. She definitely needed psychological help. Who in their right mind wonders how a cat takes his coffee? Becca supposed it was a good thing that she lived with a psych professor, though she wondered if that's why she needed the help in the first place.
When Becca had awoken in the middle of the night wondering what to do about Rich, her first thought was to call Annabelle. This was something she needed to talk to her best friend about, but the fact that her best friend was also Rich's sister put the kibosh on that. She sipped her coffee and considered all of her other friends. Unfortunately, the only other friends she had were the ones who had asked her what it was like to go slumming with Rich. Not good candidates either.
Peering into the refrigerator, Becca looked for something to make for breakfast. She found nothing enticing to eat and was about to give up when she heard Henry and Wayne above her. She could talk to Henry and Wayne. They were perfect. They knew everyone involved but weren't related to anyone, and they would make wonderful sounding boards. Relieved, she grabbed the phone and called upstairs.
Wayne answered on the second ring. "Well, it's about time you called your lowly neighbors. How are you, Becca?"
"How did you know it wasn't Rich calling?"
"We saw him leave earlier."
"Do you and Henry want to come down for coffee?"
"Sure, we'd love to. I just made cinnamon rolls. Have you had breakfast?"
"No, not yet. Do you want to bring them down, or should I come up?"
"We'll be down in a couple minutes. I've been meaning to stop by. I have a toy for Tripod."
Becca smiled. "I hope it's not catnip because he's already jacked up on coffee."
"This I gotta see. We'll just be a minute."
"Great. See you soon."
Becca looked around the apartment. Artwork covered every available flat surface. If she and Rich were having the dean and Emily over on Saturday night, they'd have to figure out where to put everything. Not to mention that she'd have to make the dreaded call to Aunt Rose and beg for help. She grabbed her notebook and started a new list. She'd just gotten down to number three when the guys knocked. She nudged Tripod off her lap, much to his loud displeasure, and let the guys in.
Wayne held a tray covered with iced cinnamon rolls.
"Hi, come on in. I made some room at the table."
The guys came in while Becca corralled the cat to keep him from running out. Wayne sat the tray on the table and gave Becca a hug before going into the kitchen and putting the kettle on. "Henry likes tea. You don't mind, do you?"
"Not at all. Help yourself."
Henry examined her closely. "Don't you look all rosy? Things with Rich must be going well."
"That's why I called. I was hoping I could talk to you guys about something. I need to bounce some ideas off you."
Wayne smiled to Henry. "I told you so. Didn't I?"
Henry took plates out of the cabinet. "Maybe we should wait until Becca actually tells us what she wants to talk about before you start saying I told you so."
Becca knew when she wasn't needed. She sat at the bar and watched as Wayne and Henry moved around the kitchen. They danced around each other as if they'd choreographed it. They both knew where everything was kept and even had a stash of Henry's favorite tea in the cupboard. She wondered how long it took two people to be as comfortable around each other as they were. Then she thought back to the way she and Rich were, and she had to admit they were getting there.
Wayne stopped at the entrance of the kitchen. "Where's Tripod?"
He held something in his hand and wound it up. Tripod trotted into the dining room when he heard his name and let out one of his catcalls.
"There you are. Look what Uncle Wayne has for you." Wayne put the toy down on the tile kitchen floor. It looked like a mechanized ferret with a big, bushy tail. It began spinning around the kitchen, and Tripod went wild chasing it. "There, that should keep him busy." He grabbed the plates and butter before coming back to the table and sat as Henry poured the hot water into a teapot. Wayne pulled out a chair for her to sit beside him and passed her a plate. "You have our full attention. I'm dying to hear the news, sweetie. So spill."
"Wow, there's nothing like being put on the spot, is there?"
Henry sat beside Becca and calmly poured his tea. "Sometimes these things are best delved into judiciously. Take your time, honey." He took a sip and seemed satisfied. "Why don't you begin by telling us why you've turned this place into a virtual art gallery? Oh, and let me know if the pieces are for sale. I especially love that metal piece. It's really gorgeous. Actually, I think all your stuff is beautiful, but that piece speaks to me."
"Thanks." Becca laughed when she saw the impatient look Wayne shot to Henry, who just sipped his tea and ignored Wayne . She ran her hands through her hair and jumped right in. Not even Henry was going to be able to keep Wayne down for long. "The day I moved in here, Gina broke up with Rich." She threw up her hands. "It had nothing to do with me. As far as I know, she didn't even know I'd moved in. But Rich came home and began trying to get her back—"
Wayne waved that statement away. "Those two are sooo not right for each other."
Becca couldn't agree more. However, the fact that she was thrilled they saw it too didn't bode well for her ability to think rationally about the situation. "Rich's dean has been pressuring him to grow up, settle down, and become a good little professor."
Henry set his cup down and reached for a cinnamon roll. "After the way Rich left Dartmouth , it's not surprising. Not that Rich did anything too terrible. Still, dating the Dean's adult daughter and dumping her is never a good idea."
Wayne took a bite and nodded his assent.
Becca took that as a hint to continue. "Rich had an invitation to attend a benefit as a guest of his dean and the dean's wife and was expected to bring his girlfriend. When Gina refused to take Rich back, he asked me to pretend to be his girlfriend…"
Wayne laughed, "Girl, don't believe a word out of that boy's mouth. He's had his eye on you from the first moment he saw you at Annabelle's engagement party. Anyone with eyes in his head could see that."
Becca wasn't sure she believed either Wayne or Rich, since he'd said the same thing. Still, part of her wanted to sigh. Another bad sign. "I was trying to be nice, so I agreed to go with him, but when we were there—"
Henry set his cup down. "Don't tell me. The lines between fiction and reality blurred."
"Exactly."
Wayne scrubbed his hands together. "So you and Rich are together?"
"Yeah, and I was okay with that."
Wayne smacked her hand. "Okay? Come on, girl. This is me you're talking to. Rich is yummy." He smiled at Henry. "Of course, he's not my type."
Henry laughed. "Which is a good thing since you are definitely not his type."
Wayne shook his head. "Of course not, but you have to admit he is one perfect specimen of he-manhood."
Becca relaxed a bit. "He does have certain attributes. And I seriously have a thing for him. He's sweet, and loving, and he tries so hard."
Wayne nodded, took a sip of his coffee, and held his coffee cup out to make a point. "Just don't let him anywhere near your fine washables."
Becca tried not to laugh. "The thing is, well, last night he proposed."
Wayne spit out the roll he was biting into, stood, pulled Becca out of her chair, and hugged her as he jumped up and down, forcing her to jump along with him. "Oh my God! That's so romantic. How'd he do it? Tell me all the details."
Henry stood and extracted Wayne from Becca. Becca wanted to kiss Henry—talk about a soothing presence. Henry held Becca's chair and motioned her to sit. " Wayne , some things are obviously private."
Wayne smiled as he took his seat and leaned closer. "Don't tell me he popped you and the question at the same time? He did, didn't he?" Wayne was exasperated. "What is it with men? I swear it has to be something in testosterone that causes the male brain to shut down while doing the deed. Will they never learn? What did you say?"
"That was the problem. I only just figured out that I love him. It's so new. I just told him, and then he dropped the M bomb. I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything."
Henry leaned forward, too. "Oh, that couldn't be good."
Becca shook her head. "No, it wasn't. He took off, and well, we had a fight."
Wayne nodded, "I heard some yelling coming from down here. Thin walls, shoddy construction. But I thought you two were just enjoying yourselves, if you know what I mean."
Becca refused to go there. "Once he stopped being belligerent, we were able to table the marriage discussion, but it's still there, lurking. I don't know how else to explain it."
Both guys nodded.
"I don't know what to do now. Dean Stewart and his wife Emily are coming for dinner Saturday night, which is why I brought a bunch of my work here. Emily is the head of a small arts council, and she knows everyone who's anyone in the New York art world. She can really help my career if she likes my work, and it sounds as if she's interested…"
Wayne nodded. "But now there's this big pink elephant in the room. You don't know how to deal with Rich, and you're understandably nervous about this big dinner. Wow, you've got a whole lot going on, don't you, girlfriend?"
Becca took a bite of her roll and nodded. "Yes, and it's not like I can talk to Annabelle about it. It's bad enough that she's Rich's sister, but she's living her happily ever after with my big brother." Becca set her food down and refilled her coffee. "Is there anything worse than an Italian woman in the honeymoon stage of a relationship? Annabelle sees hearts and flowers wherever she looks, and she wants everyone she loves as happy as she is."
Henry passed her the cream. "And you're not?"
Becca took the time to fix her coffee and was thankful that Tripod had finally caught his prey. He bopped over and laid the dead ferret at her feet. She stopped to rewind it and let the toy go on the carpet off to the side of the table. Tripod went wild—he was wild to begin with, but with all the caffeine buzzing through his bloodstream, he was even more insane than usual. The guys were fascinated and gave her time to think of an answer. When their attention returned to her she took a deep breath. "I'm happy where things are. I never thought about marriage, other than to avoid it, at all costs. I'm the product of a shotgun marriage that ended badly. Hell, it was bad from day one."
Henry leaned over and patted her hand. "Becca, honey, history doesn't always repeat itself. There's no reason you can't have a happy marriage."
"I know that in here." She tapped her forehead. "But I don't think I've ever seen a happy marriage. I've only seen the miserable ones, and that makes a real impression. I can't think of anything worse than being married to the wrong person. I've never been in love before. I'm not even sure how to do this."
Wayne crossed his arms and studied her. "Never?"
Becca rolled her eyes. "Okay, I thought I was once, then I found out my mother was sleeping with him, too. It tends to leave a bad taste in your mouth."
Henry's eyes went wide. "I can understand that. I'm so sorry."
Becca shrugged away his pity—she was so over that. "I just wish I could slow things down. Get used to being part of a couple. I don't know why he had to ruin what we have right now."
"Did he?" Henry sat back and cradled his teacup in his hands. "It seems to me that he just made his intentions clear. He's obviously crazy about you. Heck, that was evident to me that day we came down to welcome you to the neighborhood."
Wayne nodded. "Rich strikes me as an evolved alpha male. And if you ask me, they're the best kind. He's the kind of man who wants to take care of his woman, but he's evolved enough to know that caring for a smart, independent woman doesn't always involve all the macho pissing match crap that drives women nuts."
Becca nodded. "I agree, but that still doesn't help me figure out how to handle all this marriage talk without hurting him. I've already done a bad job of that. I need a plan."
Henry sat forward again. "Becca, there's no way to plan affairs of the heart. The best advice I can give you is to just talk to him about it. Tell him your concerns, and let him tell you how he feels. Make sure you really listen to him, and hear what he says, and realize that what a man says is not always what he means. I wonder if there's something else going on. It sounds as if he might be afraid of losing you for some reason."
"Why would he think that? I haven't given him a reason to think I'd leave him. Just the opposite, I asked him to move into the new place with me."
"I'm sure you did, but men need to be told how much you care. As sweet as you are, Becca, you seem the type to keep your cards close to the vest. I might be way off here, but in my experience, most men don't just jump into a marriage proposal unless someone's put their feet to the fire. Find out what's going on with him."
"Do you think he might have asked me to marry him because of pressure at work?"
"No, I didn't say that. But it could be that he's afraid of losing you for a reason that's purely internal. The point is you'll never know unless you ask."
The buzzer went off, and Becca set her cup down and went to see who it was. "Yes?"
"Becca, it's Aunt Rose Albertini."
"Come on up." She pressed the door release and turned to the guys. "I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting her."
Henry and Wayne stood and began clearing the table. Henry grinned. "From what Rosalie and Annabelle always said, the old bird's psychic. She must know you need to talk to her."
"Yeah, I just hope she doesn't know anything else."
Becca opened the door to Aunt Rose who stepped in, hugged Becca, and kissed both cheeks before patting one. "See, I told you, you no stay skinny for long. I see my Richie is feeding you."
Becca looked down. She didn't think she'd gained weight.
Aunt Rose turned and saw Henry and Wayne. "Sit, sit. I just come for a rest and a cup of coffee."
Wayne stood. "I'll make some."
Aunt Rose handed Becca her twenty-ton black purse and her coat. "Nonsense. I make'a myself." She bustled into the kitchen, opened a drawer, took out an apron Becca never knew existed, and tied it around her thick waist. "You boys so nice, visiting my Becca. She gets lonely when Richie's away."
"Aunt Rose—"
Aunt Rose waved Becca away. "She don't think she needs friends or a husband." She lowered her voice. "She'sa gonna learn though. Life is nothing without love, family, and friends." She turned to Becca who had crossed her arms and was tapping her toe while she bit her tongue. "You sit. Mangia, mangia. Tell me how my godson is."
Becca sat. She figured it was easier that way. "It's funny you should stop by. I was planning to call you today."
Aunt Rose put coffee in the filter. "Si, I don't like'a the phone, so I came for a nice visit." She turned to the guys. "Becca and Richie are having a big dinner. They need my lasagna."
Becca sat and shook her head. "So, Rich called you?"
"Richie doesn't call unless he wants someting."
It didn't escape Becca that Aunt Rose never really answered the question, but since the hair on her arms was already standing up, she decided not to pursue it.
"When you make'a one of those lists you so good at, make'a sure you put to borrow my big espresso pot. You can't have a nice dinner wit' no espresso. Eh? I give you my special coffee. You like. And tell Richie to buy good Zoom Zoom."
Becca opened her notebook and added "espresso pot" to it. "Zoom Zoom?"
"Sure, you know, Annisette, Sambuca—Zoom, Zoom. If'a you want, I can get Maria to make'a you her tiramisu. Just don't tell her you serving my lasagna." She shook her head. "Maria don't like that I'm a better cook. But eh? What can you do?" She took a plate out of the cabinet. " Wayne , you made cinnamon rolls?"
"Yes, why don't you have some? I'll get the coffee when it's finished. Sit and rest your feet."
Aunt Rose left the kitchen, and Wayne held her chair while Henry rose. She waved him down. "Such'a nice boys."
Becca looked over her list. "Why don't I write down all the ingredients we need so I can shop and have everything here when we start cooking?"
"No, we shop together. I'll bring'a my cart. We go to the butcher, the cheese man, the vegetable stand, the bread man."
"Oh, okay. When do you want to shop? The dinner is on Saturday."
Aunt Rose took a bite of her roll. "Mmm. Wayne , it'sa so good. Grazi." She patted his hand before continuing. "We shop on Thursday, cook and'a clean on Friday."
Becca shook her head. "Rich and I will take care of the cleaning."
"Richie? Clean?" She looked at Henry and Wayne. "If'a my Richie cleans, it'sa either love, or he'sa crazy." Aunt Rose shrugged. "It could be both, eh?"
Wayne unsuccessfully covered his laugh with a cough and went into the kitchen, returning with a cup of coffee for Rose.
"Grazi." She poured milk and stirred her coffee while looking around the crowded apartment. "You and my Annabelle. Such talent and so little—how you say? Confidence?" She nodded. "Si, confidence."
Henry cleared his throat. "Well, it's been lovely, ladies, but I've got to get back to work, and I know Wayne has a busy day ahead of him."
Wayne nodded. "Just keep the rolls. I have plenty more upstairs."
"Thanks, guys." When Henry and Wayne reached for the dishes, Becca waved away their help. "I'll take care of everything." She stood and hugged them as she walked them to the door. "I'll bring your tray up later."
After the guys left, Becca sat next to Aunt Rose and smiled. "Why don't you just cut to the chase? You came here for a reason. Say what you came to say and don't pretend it has anything to do with the dinner party."
Aunt Rose shook her finger at Becca, making Becca wonder if she should duck. She was half expecting to see a lightning bolt fly from Aunt Rose's fingertips. "You too smart for your own good. You think'a too much. Life is simple. You find a man, you want the man, you marry the man, you learn to love him, and when he dies, you wear black. Simple."
"Aunt Rose, you don't know—"
Rose held up her hand. "I know what I know. You make'a your lists. Those lists make'a you look for the wrong ting. You no look for the good. You look for the bad. That might work in business, but not in love. Love don't make sense. It don't fit into'a one of your pretty pictures. It's confusing, it'sa messy, and if you fight it, you can lose it. Be careful. Listen to your Aunt Rose." She took a sip of her coffee and watched Becca with intelligent eyes.
Becca had a feeling that Aunt Rose knew what she was going to say before she even said it. "You know everything?"
Rose wiped her mouth with a napkin. "I know Richie wants to marry you. I know you're scared. I know you trust no one, not even yourself."
"What do I do?"
"I just told you, but you don't hear it. It'sa shame. You're a good'a girl. Richie, he's a good'a man with you. He loves you, but you don't want to see that." She patted Becca's hand. "You gotta trust in Richie, or you're gonna lose him." She gathered the plates and took them into the kitchen as Becca sat stunned. Lose Rich? She wasn't sure what she was feeling, but she didn't like it. It was close to panic, but that was ridiculous. She just had too much caffeine. That's why she broke out into a sweat; maybe she was coming down with something.
In the time she sat there, thinking, trying to make sense of what Aunt Rose said, Aunt Rose had cleaned the kitchen. She came back to the table and shook Becca's shoulder. "I gotta go. I'll see you on Thursday. Meet me at the butcher at nine. Richie can tell you where it is. We'll shop."
Becca forced herself out of the chair. "Oh, okay." She helped Aunt Rose with her coat and accepted the hug and two kisses. "You and Richie, you'll be okay in the end, but only you can choose which path to take—the hard path, or the easy path. Knowing you, it'sa gonna be the hard one. You gotta lot to learn about love."