“So, what did you and my mother talk about?” Cato asked as we headed upstairs to bed.
“A little of this, a little of that…”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Because you’re smarter than that.” I walked through the door then undressed. My clothes smelled like Christmas food, mainly turkey and stuffing. The smell was in my hair too, but I was too tired to take a shower.
Cato stripped down to nothing, presumptuous about what would happen now that the night was over.
“I’m so tired, Cato. I cooked all day, my back is killing me, and I smell like a turkey.”
He came up behind me and rubbed my shoulders. “Good thing I like the smell of turkey.”
“Over lunch…” I closed my eyes and felt his fingers dig deep into my muscles, working away at the tension and the fatigue.
“No. I like it when my woman smells like turkey…because she’s been cooking for me all day.” He guided me to the bed and onto my side so he could continue massaging my back. His fingers worked the muscles over my shoulder blades and those that hugged my spine. Whenever he found a knot, he slowly flattened it with his fingertips.
I was about to fall asleep. “If this is your way of getting sex…you’re just putting me to sleep.”
“If I wanted sex, I would just fuck you.” His hand moved to my ass cheek, and he massaged that too.
“You’re really good at that…”
His hands suddenly stopped moving. “What did you and my mother talk about?”
I opened my eyes and stared at the opposite wall. “You’re evil.”
“Tell me and I’ll keep going.”
He was giving me the best massage of my life, and I didn’t want it to stop. “I told her I loved you.”
He didn’t rub my back. He stayed absolutely still, turning into a gargoyle. “And what did she say?”
“She said you loved me too. I told her you hadn’t actually said the words but it was obvious. She agreed. That was about it. She told me you were a good man. She even told me about the day you went into the cannery and forced her to quit so you could take care of her. Not that she needed to give me another reason to love you.”
He didn’t massage my back again. His fingertips rested against my skin, the warmth entering my body and chasing away the cold from the open doorway. He didn’t have a response to what I said, so he started to massage me again.
After minutes of silence, I drifted off to sleep.
5
Cato
Winter slowly turned to spring, and now that Siena was well into her eighth month, she became more uncomfortable—and more stressed.
“We don’t have a crib, a car seat, diapers—nothing.” She marched around our bedroom with her hand on her enormous stomach. “Which bedroom is going to be hers? We don’t even know that. We’re so unprepared.”
“Baby—”
“We need to get this stuff now. Because I could pop at any moment.”
“We still have at least another month.”
“But babies come early all the time. We need to do this now.”
“I have work.”
She flashed me a look more terrifying than Satan’s.
“I could have someone else take care of all that for us—”
“I don’t want someone else to take care of this stuff for us.” She stomped her foot. “I want to do all of it. I want to pick out her crib, find the perfect toys, buy an obscene number of diapers. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience. It’s our first child.”
That made it sound like there would be more to follow. “Alright.” I had an important meeting today, but Bates could take care of it. Siena was becoming more irrational with every passing day, probably because she was in pain most of the time. Her petite frame made carrying a child strenuous. “We’ll take care of it today.”
She finally relaxed once she got her way. “Let me change and we’ll go.”
I stepped into the hallway and called my brother.
“Where are you?” he barked. “You should have been here fifteen minutes ago.”
“I can’t come in today. I need you to handle this.”
“Are you kidding me right now? This is a huge deal for us. Your balls better be stuck in the vacuum or something.”
“I have other priorities I have to take care of right now.”
His silence was a sharp indication of his rage. “The only other priority you have is Siena—and that’s not a priority. You’ll see her after work.”
“We need to get stuff for Martina. She’s having a meltdown about it.”
“Do it after work.”
“Bates, I’ve worked for our company day and night for the last decade. I’ve worked weekends and holidays. I’ve lived for our company. But right now, this is more important. I’m going to be a father, and everything is going to change. When you have a kid, you’ll understand. And I’ll handle the office then so you can address it.”