Caroselli's Accidental Heir (7 page)

Jeez, she was starting to think like her mom.

At least this time she was appropriately dressed for the occasion. She wasn’t used to having nice things and she had been crazy careful all morning not to spill anything on herself. She’d even taken the time to put on eyeliner and lip gloss.

And unlike her previous visit, this time the door was answered by the butler. He wore a crisply pressed uniform slightly too large for him that seemed to pull his wiry shoulders forward and stoop his back. And he was
old.
As in,
Hey, what was it like to watch Moses part the Red Sea?
old. It was a wonder he was still able to work. Or still wanted to.

“I’m Lucy,” she told him. “I’m here to see Mr. Caroselli.”

With an arthritic dip of his head, he gestured her into the foyer. “He’s expecting you. Please follow me.”

She considered cracking a joke about missing him at the party Sunday, but he didn’t strike her as the type to appreciate ironic humor. She followed him up the stairs...sloooowly...feeling a bit like a puppet whose strings were tangled, wrestling between frayed nerves, annoyance and wounded pride. Was she really going to let this man push her around? Let him intimidate her? But what would he do if she swung back?

The butler opened a door at the end of the hall. “Miss Lucy to see you, sir.”

He gestured her through the door and she stepped into the room—
Nonno
’s study. Tony told her that this was where
Nonno
conducted most of his business these days.

In his leather wingback chair, with a thick, hardback book resting on his spindly thighs, he looked so small and frail. So harmless. But she knew better. Tony had told her many times how ruthless he could be. How he ruled the family with an iron fist.

“Thank you, William,”
Nonno
said, waving Lucy closer, peering at her over the top of a pair of round reading glasses. He assessed her from head to toe, his brow slightly furrowed as if he wasn’t sure he liked what he was seeing.

“So this is the woman I’ve been hearing so much about.” He spoke with a thick accent for someone who had been in the country for so many years.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, when in reality, she felt like she might barf.

“Come closer,” he said. “Let me look at you.”

She moved closer and tried not to flinch as he reached for her right hand, holding it between his two. His skin was cool and dry and so translucent she could see the network of bluish veins on the backs of his arthritic, age-spotted hands. He turned her hand over, looking first at the front, then the back, and he was kind enough not to mention her bitten down nails and ragged cuticles. What next? Her teeth? Her ears?

What was it that he saw when he looked at her?

“Interesting ring,” he said, running his thumb over the greenish-blue stone set in braided silver.

“It’s Ajax turquoise. It belonged to my grandmother. She was half Navajo.”

“Yes,” he said nodding absently, almost as if he already knew that. He ended the inspection there, letting go of her hand and gesturing to the sofa. “Sit, Lucy. Let’s chat.”

Would it be a chat, or an interrogation?

She sat, back straight, hands folded in her lap, bracing for the worst. And she got it.

“My grandson tells me that you refused to marry him.”

Wow. He certainly got right to the point. And of course she immediately went on the defensive, though she couldn’t deny it was a little refreshing to skip the small talk and get straight to the meat of the issue. Tony hadn’t been exaggerating.
Nonno
may have been flirting with triple digits, but he was still sharp as a pin.

“That’s right, I did. We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

“Friends with benefits, Tony called it.”

Oh, my God
. Had he actually told his grandfather that? Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She wasn’t sure how much of this she could take. She wanted Tony’s family to accept her, but not at the expense of her pride. Or her feelings.

“Mr. Caroselli—”

“That’s my great-grandchild you’re carrying. You’ll call me
Nonno.
”

Ooookay.
One second she’s a slut, the next she’s calling him Gramps? What kind of game was he playing?

“If I’m here so you can convince me that I’m not good enough for your grandson, why don’t I save us both a very uncomfortable conversation? I am more than aware of the fact that Tony is too good for me. And despite what everyone thinks, I did not get pregnant on purpose, and I didn’t come here to break up his wedding.”

“Is that what everyone thinks?”

How could they not? “I have no illusions about who and what I am.”

“And that’s why you ran?” he asked.

Crap.
He had to go and bring that up. “I didn’t run. I
left.
There’s a difference. I did what I thought was best for Tony. I knew he didn’t want to settle down. Especially with someone like me.”

“Or did you leave because you love him, and you were hoping he would follow?”

She tried, and failed, to hide her surprise. How could he possibly know that?

Regardless of how he knew, he seemed to be enjoying that he’d rattled her.

“If you want to know about love, it’s the old men that you talk to,” he said. “They know.”

“Love has nothing to do with it.”

“Young people,” he said with a shake of his head, mumbling something in Italian.

“If you want to blame anyone for this situation, blame me,” she told
Nonno.
“It’s not Tony’s fault.”

“Tony is a good man,” he said. “You’ll never find anyone more loyal, or devoted to his family.”

She waited for the inevitable warning.
Hurt him and I’ll...

It never came. For a long moment he just watched her. Then he said, “Do you cook, Lucy?”

Holy cow, he sure did switch gears fast. Or was this some sort of trick question? She wasn’t good enough for his grandson if she couldn’t prepare a decent meal? “Sort of. Does toast count?”

“Tony loves his
nonna
’s spaghetti sauce. You’ll come over Friday and I’ll teach you to make it.”

Huh?
Now he wanted to teach her to cook Tony’s favorite food? These were not the actions of a man trying to get rid of someone. Maybe this was part of that promise he’d made Tony. Maybe he felt obligated to be nice to her.

“I...sure, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Come at one p.m. sharp.”

“Okay.”

Nonno
turned and looked out the window, then sighed deeply and closed his eyes, which she took to mean conversation over. No wasted words with this man. He said what he wanted to say, and when he was done, he was done. She respected that.

She quietly let herself out of the study, thinking how that wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d expected. In fact, it hadn’t been bad at all. She was almost looking forward to coming back on Friday. It’s not as if she had anything better to do, and she’d always wanted to learn how to cook. It would probably be fun if she had all the necessary elements. Like, say, ingredients.

Maybe she was being overly optimistic, or fooling herself—she was really good at that—but she had the feeling that maybe, just maybe,
Nonno
thought she might not be so bad.

But when all was said and done, she walked away from the conversation more confused than when she got there.

Seven

T
ony watched the monitor with fascination as the ultrasound tech probed Lucy’s stomach, poking and prodding, going from one side back to the other through a puddle of bluish goo. He knew the 4D ultrasound showed a lot of detail, but he hadn’t expected to be able to see the baby in real time, kicking his legs, sucking his thumb. He even yawned.

Tony could even see that he had the Caroselli nose, and Lucy’s ears, and considering he only had two and a half more months to cook, he didn’t look all that small.

“Would you like to know the sex of the baby?” the tech asked them.

“Yes,” Tony told her, and Lucy quickly countered with, “We absolutely do not.”

They had debated all last evening, and this morning before her appointment. Did they want to know or didn’t they? For obvious reasons Tony wanted to know sooner rather than later.

“I want to be surprised,” she told the technician, and said to Tony, “If you know, you’ll want to tell me.”

“No, I won’t,” Tony said.

“Yes, you will.”

No, he wouldn’t. “Have a little faith.”

“I have to take measurements and in just a minute or two the gender is going to be very obvious,” the technician said, looking a little exasperated by their bickering. But it probably wasn’t the first time she had heard that argument between expecting parents. “Here we go. If you don’t want to know, don’t look at the screen.”

“Look away,” Lucy ordered, turning her face to the wall and closing her eyes, and he dutifully turned with her.

“I’ll let you know when it’s safe to look,” the technician told them, and Tony glanced over his shoulder at the screen, but what caught his attention first was the furrowed brow of the tech. Was she just concentrating, or did she see something wrong? He looked past her to the screen and...
hello.
When she said the gender would be obvious she wasn’t kidding. He turned away, but he couldn’t contain the smile tugging at his lips. The mystery was over. And suddenly this becoming a father thing seemed very real in a way he hadn’t been able to comprehend when they stepped into the room. It was one thing to know there was a baby, but to see it on the screen, especially in so much detail, took it to a whole new level.

He was going to be a father. He was going to be responsible for the care and feeding of that tiny, helpless little person. That should have scared the hell out of him, but he felt an unprecedented sensation of well-being, of pure calm. He had always said he wanted kids someday, but he never truly understood how much. Or what that would mean.

He was ready for this. And those three months they had to wait for the birth sounded like an eternity to him.

“All done,” the technician said, handing Lucy a wad of tissues to clean up the goo, and ejecting a disk from the unit. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He took Lucy’s hand and helped her sit up.

“That was fun,” she said. “I had no idea that the picture would be that clear.”

“Me neither. I think he has my nose.”

“And my elephant ears.”

He grinned and rubbed her left earlobe between his fingers. “I like your elephant ears.”

She smiled up at him and his eyes snagged on hers. A look passed between them. One that said maybe they should
stop
looking.

Maybe it was odd, but he found her just as attractive, or maybe even more attractive, pregnant. He wondered if the sex would have been different somehow. Would he have to be gentler? She’d never been one to hold back in bed.

“I have something for you,” he said, pulling the small velvet box from his jacket pocket. “I was going to wait until later, but I think you should have this now.” It would take his mind off of getting her naked.

Her eyes went a little wide when she saw the box and she sucked in a quiet breath. “What did you do?”

“Well, I was thinking about diamonds,” he said, casually tossing the box from one hand to the other. “But then I thought, nah, Lucy is too unique for plain old diamonds.”

“You think I’m unique?”

“I do. In a
good
way.”

She smiled. “I knew what you meant.”

He handed her the box. “The instant I saw these I knew I had to get them for you.”

She opened it very slowly, as if she expected something to jump out at her. When her gaze focused on the earrings set in a bed of white satin, she gasped.

“Ajax turquoise, the same stone as my ring! I love them!”

She must have, because she put them on immediately. With her dark hair and eyes and olive skin, the blue in the stones really popped.

“Beautiful,” he said with a grin, and he didn’t mean the jewelry. They had another one of those gaze-locking encounters, and for a second it felt as if the room shifted beneath his feet, then he realized he was the one moving, leaning in. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, as if she were anticipating his kiss. Then the tech walked back in and killed the moment.

“I’ll thank you later,” she said softly, and he really hoped she meant what he thought she did.

“Can I have you two sit in the waiting room?” the tech asked.

His heart bottomed out and the color drained from Lucy’s face. “Is there a problem?”

“Dr. Hannan just needs a minute to look over the scan. They’ll let you know if he needs to see you.”

She showed them to the waiting room, which was blessedly empty, and they took a seat in the corner. He could see that Lucy was nervous, and that made him nervous.

“Do you get the feeling something is wrong?” she asked him, their brief interlude long forgotten.

“I’m sure they’re just being extra careful, with the baby being small.” It was a lie. He’d seen the look on the tech’s face. Now he was more convinced than ever that she saw something she didn’t like.

“He doesn’t feel very small,” she said, shifting in her seat to get comfortable, hands resting on the top of her belly.

“I’m no expert, but he didn’t look very small to me, either.”

“Are you sorry that we didn’t learn the sex of the baby?”

He shrugged. “Hmm.”

She blinked. “What does that mean?”

“It means hmm.”

She drew in a sharp breath. “
You peeked,
didn’t you? You looked at the screen.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Don’t even try to lie to me. You looked. Admit it.”

He just smiled.

“But we agreed!”

“No, we didn’t,” he said. “I never agreed to anything.”

“Don’t you
dare
tell me.”

“So I should forget that announcement in the
Tribune?
”

Her exasperated expression made him smile. “I really don’t want to know,” she said.

“I won’t say a word. To anyone.”

“You promise?”

“Even if you beg and plead with me, I will not tell you. I promise.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to appear stern, but just under the surface she was smiling.

The door to the reception area opened and they both tensed as a nurse leaned out. “Ms. Bates, Dr. Hannan will see you now.”

Lucy mumbled a curse under her breath. A heavy-duty expletive that, as far as he could recall, he’d never heard her use before.

He reached for her hand, weaving his fingers through hers. She clung to him as the nurse led them to an exam room.

“He’ll be right with you,” she said, closing the door when she left.

“This is my fault,” Lucy said as he helped her up onto the exam table. She was holding his hand so tight he was losing the feeling in his fingers.

“We don’t even know if anything is wrong.” And if there was, it could be something genetic from his side, something she had no control over. Other than to not get pregnant in the first place.

“If nothing was wrong we wouldn’t be here,” Lucy said.

“That’s not necessarily true.” Though he had been thinking the same thing. The fear that it might be something really bad was tying his stomach in knots, but he refused to let it show. She needed to know that he would always remain strong for her. A few days ago he didn’t even know about the baby, and now, he would move heaven and earth to see that he was healthy. Whatever it took.

They sat there for nearly twenty minutes stewing in their anxiety, making idle chitchat to kill the time but not actually saying anything of substance or significance. When the doctor finally opened the door Lucy was wound so tight, she nearly launched off the table.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Dr. Hannan said, closing the door behind him.

“Is anything wrong?” Lucy asked, as he rechecked her blood pressure.

“Do you tend to get nervous at the doctor’s office? Your pressure is a little high today.”

“I hate going to the doctor.”

“I’m going to have the nurse draw another blood sample,” Dr. Hannan said. “I’d like to do a few additional tests.” He listened to her heart, then her lungs. “Until we get the results, try to stay off your feet if you can. I’d like you to rest as much as possible.”

“Are you putting me on bed rest?”

“No, but I do want you to take it easy. If you’re doing something that keeps you on your feet for an extended amount of time, take a break every hour or so and put them up for a few minutes.”

“Okay,” she said, and Tony knew exactly what she was thinking. She was not an idle person. That was going to be a tough one for her to stick to.

“I’m going to have the nurse draw another blood sample,” Dr. Hannan said. “I’d like to do a few additional tests.”

“Should we be worried?” Tony asked him, wondering just how serious this was. Staying off her feet was one thing, but more tests? That didn’t sound good.

“It’s probably nothing,” he assured them. “I just want to be sure that we cover all of our bases. I’ll see that they rush the results. I should have a report back tomorrow. Friday at the latest.”

They might have to wait two days? He and Lucy would be basket cases by then.

“What about the ultrasound?” Lucy said. “Was everything okay?”

“Just to be thorough I’m going to have a colleague look over the scan, but on the surface everything seemed pretty good. The baby’s size could be an issue, but I believe that adequate nutrition will be the key to getting you and the baby to a healthy weight.”

He made a few notes on her chart, and then the nurse came in and took three more vials of her blood. Leave some for the baby, Tony wanted to say. Lucy’s face was so pale, she already looked anemic. Having just come back from four months in Florida, she should have had a tan, right? Or maybe she hadn’t gotten out much.

For most of the drive home she sat beside him, absently sliding her hand back and forth over her belly. He put the radio on to fill the bubble of silence growing ever more conspicuous between them, and even chose a station that played the bass thumping techno dance stuff she liked to listen to. Two minutes later it started to feel as if someone had shoved a knitting needle through his temple.

Lucy reached over and shut the radio off. “What if something really is wrong?”

Then they would deal with it. Whatever it was. “Like the doctor said, there’s no point worrying until there’s something to worry about.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“No,” he glanced over at her, “it’s not. I’m worried, too.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “That was unfair. Of course you are.”

“You know what might make things easier?”

“What?”

“If you married me.”

She shot him a look.

That was a definite no. “No matter what it is, if it’s anything at all, we’ll deal with it. Together. Everything will be okay.”

“You’re right,” she said, with a smile that was almost genuine. “I have to be positive.”

He was glad she believed him. Now, if he could just manage to convince himself.

* * *

When
Nonno
said he would teach her to make the sauce, Lucy had assumed he would make it and she would watch. She was wrong. He claimed that doing all the work was part of the learning process. She sort of had the feeling his cook had the day off and Lucy was just a hapless replacement.

Though she had still been apprehensive about coming here, it sure beat sitting home, twiddling her thumbs, wondering what was wrong with the baby. Or her. Or worse, both of them. Tony must have felt the same way, because instead of going back home after he dropped her at
Nonno
’s, he went into the office instead, even though he’d sworn he was taking the rest of the week off. Honestly, she couldn’t blame him.

First,
Nonno
had her gather all the ingredients from the pantry and refrigerator, along with a big silver pot from the cupboard that had seen its fair share of time on an open flame.

He sat on a stool at the kitchen island, taking her through the steps of the recipe, telling her to add a pinch of this and a touch of that. He never once had her use a measuring spoon.

“This isn’t so hard,” she said, wiping her hands on the apron he’d given her to wear. She stirred the contents of the pot with a wooden spoon. “And it smells delicious.”

“I think you’re a natural.”

“It’s fun. Though I’m not sure I’ll remember all that.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll write it down for you.”

“With actual measurements?”

“Yes, yes, with measurements.”

“I’ll add it to my journal so I’ll always have it.”

“My Angelica kept a journal,”
Nonno
said. “I buried it with her. My children were not happy with me.”

“They wanted to read it?”

“Yes, but they were Angelica’s private thoughts, and no one else’s business. Including mine.”

“My journal is online, so no one without a password can access it. It started out as a school project, but I liked it so much I kept writing.”

He patted the stool beside him. “Come, sit with me.”

She wondered if Tony had told him what the doctor said about her staying off her feet. After sitting idle for two days, it felt good to move around, to get out of the apartment. If the doctor were to ever put her on total bed rest, she would need a padded room within the first week.

“Sit. Rest,”
Nonno
said. “Soon we’ll start the noodles.”