At Peace

Cal grinned and muttered, “Good choice.” Then he turned his head to Manny, leaning back and reaching into his pocket. “Man, do me a favor. There’s a pair of shoes on the floor of Vi’s Mustang, can you bring ‘em in?”


Manny looked at Cal then me and said hesitantly, “Sure.”

“Mom cut her foot. She’s got stitches but she’s still wearin’ her pumps which makes her limp more than she normally limps. Joe doesn’t like that,” Kate explained helpfully.

“Women are weird like that,” Keira chimed in, defending my position even though Manny, being male, would never understand but she was too young to know that. Though, I figured in about five, ten years, she’d learn. “We have to be wearing the right shoes,” she finished.

Manny stopped looking confused and he grinned. “Then sure. We wouldn’t want Joe to get pissed, would we?” Cal tossed him my keys, Manny caught them and slid out of the booth, saying, “Be back.”

I again tried to tug my leg away. Cal’s response was to slide his fingers into my stocking and push it down so I froze.

“Would you show me your Bullitt car?” Kate asked Cal as he leaned forward and pushed the stocking further down my leg while lifting it to get to my calf and ankle (and I gritted my teeth).

“Take you for a ride, girl,” Cal answered and I stopped gritting my teeth because my mouth dropped open.

“Really?” Kate breathed.

“Yeah.”

“Can I drive it?” Kate asked.

Cal grinned which took the sting out of his, “No.”

“I like Mom’s Mustang,” Keira informed Cal.

“I do too,” Cal replied and Keira glared at Cal then at me as if Cal being a lunatic by being sweet and thoughtful and sharing and nice was my fault but Cal leaned back and this was mainly because he had the stocking free of my foot.

He dropped it in my lap, settled my leg on his thigh and I gave him a look which should have at least have set his hair on fire (but didn’t) and then I snatched the stocking up and tucked it into my purse.

“Drinks!” Aunt Theresa shouted as she made it to the table with a tray of drinks. “For the girls,” she announced, setting two Shirley Temples in front of Kate and Keira, two girls that were beyond Shirley Temples but, then again, I would drink those Shirley Temples because the bottoms were filled with maraschino cherries, at least half a dozen of them, and they were more red than pink so I knew they were full of syrup. “Beer for Cal,” she went on, plonking a bottle of beer in front of Cal. “And Chianti, for cara mia,” she finished, putting a huge-bowled glass of red wine in front of me then plunking the bottle next to it.

“Thanks um… Theresa,” I said.

“Aunt Theresa,” she corrected on a smile. “Breadsticks are comin’ outta the oven, antipasto platter’s up, Bella’s gettin’ it. Gotta check on my customers but I’ll be back.” Then she bustled off and we all watched her, even the girls turned in their seats.

Then the girls turned back.

“Your family’s cool,” Kate told Cal.

“Yeah girl, they are,” Cal told Kate and he meant this, I knew it by the way he said it, deep, weighty.

Kate knew it too because her eyes got soft as she looked at Cal then her soft eyes came to me.

I didn’t need to know this about Cal. I didn’t need to meet his family, see how he was with them, how they were with him, how nice it was, even beautiful. Furthermore, my daughters didn’t need to see it.

But I didn’t have any choice, Cal didn’t give me one and that pissed me off.

I tried to yank my leg away again but Cal just kept hold as Bella swept through, dropping a basket of long, poofy breadsticks on the table, a little bowl of marinara sauce at the side and a huge antipasto platter full of salami, pancetta, olives, artichokes, mushrooms and slices of cheese.

I decided to ignore Cal and concentrate on breadsticks. I grabbed one and found it was warm. Then I dipped it into the marinara sauce and took a huge bite. It was coated with buttery garlic, the bread light but doughy, the marinara tangy and spicy, the whole thing utterly delicious.

It took effort but I managed not to roll my eyes in delight.

“These are great!” Kate said through a full mouth then shoved her breadstick back in the marinara, double dipping like Cal was Tim or Sam and this was allowed. Then she took another huge bite.

“They are,” Keira stated, her mouth full too but, even so, I could tell she didn’t want to admit this in front of Cal but she couldn’t help herself, that was just how good they were.

During my last bite, Cal’s hand lifted my leg and he leaned into me, hooking it over my other leg so they were crossed. I looked at him to see he was looking at something across the restaurant, a small smile playing at his mouth and my eyes followed his.

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