The Things We Do for Love

"You said you had two things to tell us. What is next? You are quitting the restaurant?"

"No. Actually I think--we think--were going to stay in West End this time. Conlan has a contract to write a book, and hes been given a weekly column for the newspaper. He can work from here. "

"Thats great news," Mama said.

Livvy moved closer. "So what gives, baby sis?"

Angie reached back for Conlans hand. She held on to him, let him be her port. "Were going to adopt Laurens baby. "

This time the silence could have broken glass. Angie felt it clear to her bones.

"This is not a good idea," Mama said at last.

Angie clung to Conlans hand. "What am I supposed to do? Say no? Watch her give the baby to strangers?"

As one, the family turned, looked at Lauren. The teenager was by the swing set, down on her hands and knees, searching through the tall grass. Little Dani was beside her, giggling and pointing. From this distance, they looked like any young mother and her daughter.

"Lauren has a big heart," Mama said, "and a sad past. It is a dangerous combination, Angela. "

Livvy stepped forward. "Can you handle it?" she asked gently. The only question that really mattered. "If she changes her mind?"

Angie looked up at Conlan, who smiled down at her and nodded. Together, that look said, we can handle anything.

"Yes," she said, finding a pretty decent smile. "I can handle it. The hardest part will be saying good-bye to Lauren. "

"But youll have a baby," Mira said.

"Maybe," Mama said. "The other time--"

"This is not up for a vote," Conlan said, and that shut them up.

They all looked at Lauren again, then, one by one, they started talking about other, more ordinary things.

Angie released her breath. The storm had been faced and survived. Oh, there would be gossip through the family, burning up the phone lines as each of them dissected this news and formed an opinion. Those opinions would be tossed back and forth on a daily basis. Some of it would filter down to Angie. Most of it would not.

It didnt matter. There was nothing they could come up with that Angie hadnt worried about and foreseen.

Some things in life, though, couldnt be gone in search of. They simply had to be waited for. Like the weather. You could look on the horizon and see a bank of black storm clouds. That didnt guarantee rain tomorrow. It might just as easily dawn bright and clear.

There was no damn way to tell.

All you could do was keep moving and live your life.

CARS HAD BEEN ARRIVING STEADILY FOR THE LAST hour. Every few minutes or so the front door cracked open and new guests streamed into the house, carrying boxes of food and presents wrapped in pretty paper. There were men in the living room, watching sports on the aged television and drinking beer. At least a dozen children were clustered in the den; some were playing board games, others had Barbies dancing with Kens, and still others played Nintendo.

But the heart of the action took place in the kitchen. Mira and Livvy were busy making the antipasto trays-- provolone, roasted peppers, tuna fish, olives, bruschetta. Maria was layering homemade manicotti in porcelain baking dishes, and Angie was trying to make ricotta cream for the cannoli. In the corner, on the small kitchen table that had somehow once held the entire De-Saria family for casual meals, a three-tiered white wedding cake rose above a sea of napkins and silverware.

"Lauren," Maria said, "start setting up the buffet in the dining room. "

Lauren immediately went to the little table and started picking things up. Silverware and cocktail napkins first.

She carried them into the dining room and stood there, staring at the huge table. A pale green damask tablecloth covered it. A vase full of white roses was the centerpiece.

There would be photographs taken of this table. She needed to do it right. But how?

"The silverware goes here, at the beginning," Angie said, coming up beside her. "Like this. "

Lauren watched Angie arrange the silverware into a pretty pattern, and it struck her all at once, so hard that Lauren drew in a sharp breath: Ill be leaving soon.