HAPPILY EVER BEFORE (13 page)

Grace and Clair had now officially passed from ‘now, now what’, and the annoying ‘you don’t say, and the semblance of normalcy’ into the fifth month of their pregnancy, which should be called something wittier than the fifth month, but our brains are a bit taxed--sorry if we disappointed you!  Okay, so that said, with sisterhood, sobriety, and visitation rights intact, and the stopping of inappropriate gifts, the beginning of new relationships, and some odd food cravings, as well as the reacquainting of old relationships, the Higgins Sisters thought they were ready for almost anything, but they were about to learn that almost anything included a myriad of things that they never would have expected.

Life changes.
Grace knew that. She knew that because her life was changing every second, of every minute, of every day. Right now, she was unpacking her kitchen as Jack, George, and the rest of her family brought in boxes and supervised the movers. The apartment had an amazing view of the lake and it was the very first thing Grace had ever owned besides the pink
Schwinn
Cruiser she bought with her first communion money in second grade. Grace was in a good place. She had stuff to deal with true, but everybody had stuff to deal with. Something was different though. She felt good. She wasn’t sure what it was, but Grace decided to ride the wave.

“I thought I got rid of these?” Grace turned to find Clair holding a box of The Flintstones’ jelly glasses. “They’re an eye sore.”

Grace rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well they’re my eye sore and I’m displaying them in my wet bar, so shut up!”

Clair walked the box over to the wet bar, which was snuggled into the corner of her sister’s dining room. She liked how that sounded--her sister’s dining room. Grace owning something put her at ease. It made her feel that after all this baby stuff was
done,
Grace was going to be okay.

Grace rushed to Clair, grabbed her hand, and shoved it on her stomach. “The kid officially likes the Flintstones’ jelly glasses.” Clair felt the kick of her child inside her sister. It was weird. It wasn’t the first time the baby kicked and it wouldn’t be the last, but would probably always be weird.

“You are an idiot!” George crowed.

“Because I think the Chicago Bulls haven’t run a good offensive in two years?”

George carrying an ironing board and a basket of what she hoped was clean laundry laughed. She liked this guy. This guy was good for Grace. “Yes, Jack, you’re an idiot.”

Jack carried Grace’s coffee table and set it down in the middle of the living room. “I cannot believe she’s your friend!”

Grace laughed. “She can get you free Nikes for your
gi’normous
feet.”

He turned and bowed. “You’re a genius. I’m a size fifteen.”

George looked at Grace. “Size fifteen?
Really?”

Clair, who was heading down to the van for one last run, grabbed George’s arm and took her with her.
“Mind.
Gutter.
Out!”

Jack made his way through the clutter toward Grace who was unloading the last of her silverware. He loved knowing she was in his life. He loved every wonderful, frustrating, sweet, and annoying thing about her, but he couldn’t tell her. She had too much going on and with the whole Ray thing hanging over their
heads,
he didn’t want to scare her off. He put his arms around her. The baby kicked. “Nice, he’s
gonna
be a soccer player.”

Grace turned her body into his. “Or she’s
gonna
be a
Rockette
.”

“Not my k…,” Jack stopped himself, “not on my watch.”

 “You better be careful,” she said as she brushed her lips against his, “I think I’m falling for you. And if I do,
boy are
you in trouble!”

Jack kissed her back. “Sweetheart, I invented trouble.”

“Anybody home?”
Sal, looking very dashing in his white oxford and jeans, peeked in the door. Diane, surprised to see him, came up behind him with Clair, Henry, and George. As soon as Diane saw him she lit up. Clair and Grace traded knowing glances. He was carrying a basket.
“Just a little something for the little lady.
I’m Italian,
it’s
tradition.” Sal followed Diane into the dining room. Grace peeked in the basket. “Okay, here it goes--bread, so you’ll never go hungry; a broom, so you can sweep away evil; a candle, so you’ll always have light; honey, so life will always be sweet; a coin, to bring good fortune for the year; olive oil, for health, life, and believe it or not, to keep your husband, or in this case, your boyfriend faithful; a plant, so you’ll always have life; rice, to ensure your fertility, but that’s taken care of, eh? Salt represents life’s tears. I recommend you place a pinch of salt on the threshold of every door and window for good luck and according to my grandmother
Chetta
it also mends old wounds. Oh and...
ah
, yes, wine, sparkling non-alcoholic wine, so you never go thirsty and always have joy and last, but not least wood, so your home will always have harmony, stability, and peace.”

Grace grabbed Sal into a big hug, “Wow! Thanks.”

“What is going on here?” Patricia and Henry, Sr. were staring at them. They were both wearing jeans. Grace couldn’t get her mind around it. It was like seeing a bear in a tutu--disconcerting, and yet, strangely appealing. “Well?” stressed Patricia.

“Uh, I’m moving in?” said Grace.

“Yes, dear, but where are the movers? The movers were supposed to help you move.”

Grace was lost. “Uh, they did. They moved the boxes, put them in the van, moved them up here, and
ta-da
!”

Patricia gave Grace her patented are you an idiot look, but thankfully Henry, Sr. jumped in before she had a chance to actually call her an idiot. “They’re a full service mover. They pack and unpack everything, soups to nuts, so to speak. They’ll even cook you a meal if you need it. Don’t tell me you packed everything yourself?”

Clair laughed, “I knew we shouldn’t have sent them home.”

“Home!
You sent them home? This place is a mess.” Patricia was on her cell phone and dialing so quickly you would have thought she was trying to stop a breach in national security. Within fifteen minutes the movers were back, within thirty minutes they had half the apartment, under Clair’s strict supervision unpacked, with the exception of Grace’s bedroom, Clair insisted on setting that up herself, and within two hours the entire house was done. All that as left was a pile of stuff from Grace’s storage room-- stuff she was determined to sell on e-bay now that she was gainfully unemployed.

Clair cornered Grace in the kitchen. “They seem serious.”

Grace watched her Mom with Sal. “She seems happy, but if he hurts her…”

“He won’t,” Clair matter-of-factly stated. “Do you see the way he looks at her?”

“Well, what if he hurts her, but you know, didn’t mean to hurt her? Like his wife comes back from the dead or he gets caught in a robbery and accidentally gets shot? Or maybe, maybe…”

“He gets run over by a snowplow?” said Diane as she watched Clair help Grace unload the dishwasher.

Caught, the girls sighed. “Well, yeah…” said Grace.

“It couldn’t happen twice, could it?” asked Clair, albeit nervously.

Diane smiled. “We need to have a little chat.”

Grace touched her belly.  “It’s too late you already told us where babies come from. By the way, you left quite a few things out.”

Clair laughed. “Yeah, and we’re not talking about in vitro.”

“I know. The woman blew through her sex talk like she was running the one-minute mile! Just the old cut and dry when a man loves a woman he puts his penis in her vagina and they make a baby. No mention of how awkward it can be,” joked Grace.

“Or, the actual surprise of seeing a penis for the first time.” added Clair.

“Yeah and how about the old, not every make and model is the same. Now, that would’ve helped--a lot!” giggled Grace.

Diane, red with embarrassment shook her head.
“Girls!”

They both knew what that tone implied. “What? Too much?” asked Clair.

“What do
you
think?” Diane sternly replied.

“That I’m way too old to be punished and sent to my room,” said Grace.

Diane cracked a smile. “Will you please stop talking for one second?” Clair and Grace exchanged looks. Diane jumped in before either of them could react. “The chances that somebody I love will get run over by a snowplow again are pretty slim. Will I get hurt, will I get my heart broken, and will they leave?
Maybe.
Girls, I’m sixty-five. The
chances that my date will have a stroke before dessert is
more likely.” Diane looked at her daughters and regrouped. “Sal asked me to go away with him on a trip where we share the same room. At least I think we’re sharing the same room. I mean that’s only logical right? That I think that we’re sharing the same room?”

“Whoa! Where did he ask you to go?” said Clair.

“
Canada
. Somewhere called Niagara-on-the-Lake. Does location matter?” Diane had been with men since her husband died, but, well, it was always no strings attached. This trip, there were strings attached.

“I just read about that place. The guy’s got style plus he’s paying for air fare, so yep, he expects you to put out.” Grace smiled at her very nervous mother.

“It’s not putting out I’m worried about,” snapped Diane.

“Really?” said Clair. “That’s a little disturbing.”

“Is it too soon?” Diane sighed.

“Well, do you not want to be alone with him in that type of situation like ever or are you ready to pounce?” asked Grace.

“And, as a wise woman used to say, ‘we can’t make this decision for you.’ You just have to figure out if this is the right thing for you or not,” Clair deadpanned.

Diane sighed. “I didn’t raise you to throw my words back into my face.”

Grace grinned. “Are you sure about that?”

“Where did I go wrong with you two?”

“You let me go Goth,” said Grace.

“Math camp.
Oh, the things we did with numbers!” Clair gave her mom a hug. “Go for it.”

“But, use a condom,” cracked Grace. 

Diane hugged Clair, pulled Grace’s hair, and the girls followed their mom into the living room. Patricia was chatting with Sal. She wasn’t sure about this one. He seemed nice, but he had a little too much gel in his hair and he was wearing cologne. Men who wore cologne had something to hide. “We thought we’d take everyone to dinner.”

“We were
gonna
get pizza--please stay,” said Grace.

Henry, Sr. looked at his wife and picked up on her thoughts like only people who have been married for over forty years could do. “No thanks. Diane, Sal, shall we hit Morton’s?”

Diane’s entire body clenched. She had never eaten with her daughter’s in-laws unless it was some momentous occasion and when she did, she never had a date, but before she could beg off…

Sal grinned.
“Sounds terrific.”

“Do you think she’s okay?”

Henry gave his wife a kiss. “You act like you sent her off to be lynched.”

George, in the midst of emptying a box filled with dog paraphernalia, tossed Henry a rubber bone. “Hey, it’s your mother we’re worried about not your father. If she finds one reason not to like Sal she’ll hound him ‘til he’s running for the hills!”

Henry laughed. “If he can survive her he’s pretty much set.”

George was now picking through leashes and some really nasty tennis balls when she came across an envelope. George being George didn’t think twice and opened it.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!”

Clair immediately sprang up off the couch. “What?”

George held out the piece of paper in her hand to Clair who took it.
“Thirty-five thousand dollars!
He paid her back.”

Now Henry got up. “Who paid what?”

Clair gave him a look, “I told you, the whole Ray thing. He came by, wants her back, and gave her the money he took.”

Henry took the check and studied it. “It’s a cashier check.” He looked at the date on the check and counted backwards. “In ten days it’s useless.”

“What’s useless?” asked Grace, as she and Jack came in with pizza and beer.

Because he was only married to Clair for six years and he hadn’t yet learned how to clearly read her thoughts Henry blurted out, “Thirty-five thousand dollars.”

Grace, Clair, and George traded glances. They knew better than to bring this up in front of Jack. Clair immediately put the envelope in her pocket. “My husband is useless. He can’t hook up your entertainment center and said he’d pay someone thirty-five thousand dollars to do it for him. Jack, can you help him out?”

Jack knew that whatever they were talking about had to do with Ray. He saw it in their eyes, but he had had a great day with Grace and didn’t want to screw it up. “Sure. We’ve got hours to kill at the station, so I can pretty much build one from scratch. Okay, we’ve got sausage and pepperoni, feta cheese and spinach, and pineapple and ham for the hormonally challenged pregnant woman who is causing my great grandmother Angela to spin in her grave right now.”