to hold. Having her here, with him, made him mellow.
“You need to clean up the garage. I swear if I trip over another tool, I’m going to beat you with it, and then I’m kicking you out,” Angie said.
The harsh words made him smile, considering they were delivered by a woman who could be considered a knockout if she wasn’t his pain-in-the-ass, know-it-all sister.
It was nice to know things were back to normal.
“How are you feeling?” Angie whispered to Trish.
Okay, so things weren’t exactly back to normal.
“I’m good,” Trish said, but when she smiled, the expression didn’t reach her eyes.
Tony wondered what was bothering her. He wondered if Angie caught on to the fib, too. This was a new kind of normal. Him, with Trish, knowing her well enough to decipher clues to her mood. Trish, with him, carrying his baby. Surreal, for sure, but normal now, too. He touched a hand to the small of her back and then cupped her waist, moving her closer.
“Attention, everyone,” Vin called over the crowd from his perch on the staircase. “We’re going to go ahead and open the house, so you can be seated. As soon as Nonna arrives, we’ll start.”
He looked like hell, collar crooked, deep wrinkles marring his shirt. Tony had a hunch some serious pit stains lurked beneath that suit coat. “He’s going to have a heart attack before he’s fifty.”
Angie swatted Tony’s arm. “Did you ever think of helping him? This is a big deal. He planned this all by himself.”
“With minimal help from the girls in his office, I’m sure.” Tony shot Angie his don’t-give-me-any-of-your- bullshit look, but then he smiled and winked.
She wrinkled her nose. “Fine, then I’ll ask if he needs help.” She stormed away.
“You can go, you know? I’ll be okay.” Trish’s head followed Angie’s path through the crowd.
“I don’t want to go,” Tony whispered against her ear. “Why would I leave the most beautiful woman in the room? Somebody’s bound to make a move.”
She pushed a palm against his chest, but then she gripped his lapel, leaning into him. They stayed that way, wrapped in a hug, while the rest of the Corcarelli clan filtered into the auditorium. A few cousins waggled their brows as they passed. One even gave thumbs up. Warmth fizzed in Tony’s chest. Approval from his family definitely felt weird.
He smiled overtop Trish’s head at the last cousin to leave the lobby, and then he kissed her temple. “We should sit.”
Her grip tightened on his lapel. “I have to…use the lady’s room.” And then she left him to watch her erratic steps as her ankles wobbled in the too-high heels.
The warmth in his chest turned ice cold, causing him to rub a hand over his heart.
“Tony, hold the door.”
He blinked, shook his head, and then turned toward his mother’s voice. She was poking around the jamb of the exit door. A horrible sound, like a sick dog barking, filtered into the lobby from behind her. He didn’t ask whose dog. He didn’t care. He simply rushed forward, taking the edge of the door from her hand.
The barking grew louder as Ma and Aunt Connie helped a coughing Nonna into the building.
Tony pulled his brows together above his nose. “Hey, Nonna.”
Her eyes rolled in his direction, and her lips twitched, but another cough foiled her smile and words.
He looked at his mother, who was shaking her head in a not-now motion. “We’re late. Vinnie’s going to have our heads.” She offered a quick smile as the small group shuffled toward the auditorium door.
There had to be more to her tension than punctuality.
Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw Trish emerge from the ladies room. She smiled at him, a gesture that injected relief into his veins. Then, she stumbled when she saw the other women.
“Hello,” she said, offering a little wave with her shiny purse.
Tony watched his mother and aunt smile in return, but then Nonna coughed again, and all attention gravitated to her. Something told him to go to Trish, to let Nonna see them together. At first, he balked. He’d spent most of his life ignoring his conscience’s little guilt trips where his family was concerned. That didn’t feel like the right thing to do anymore.
Crossing the lobby, he took Trish by the hand. “Nonna, you remember Trish DeVign, don’t you?”
Nonna stopped, eyes on Trish and Tony’s interlocking hands. She shook her elbow until Ma released her, and then she did the same to Aunt Connie. “I remember,” she said. Every syllable soaked in breath. She coughed as she reached both hands into the air, taking Tony by the left cheek and Trish by the right.
A lump formed in Tony’s chest. Nonna didn’t have the strength to squeeze, but the gesture was powerful nonetheless.
“Good,” she managed before dropping her hands on another coughing fit.
“Mother, you need to sit,” Aunt Connie said.
Vin burst through the auditorium doors. “There you are.” He took Nonna’s face in his hands and kissed her nose before he accepted her hand from Tony’s mother. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
Ma fell behind, into step with Tony and Trish. “It’s the fluid,” she whispered. “Again. Only it’s worse. Connie and I tried to get her to let us take her to the ER. She’s so stubborn.”
Ma moved ahead when Nonna coughed again.
The coughing attracted the attention of the rest of the family. One by one, they turned in their seats, smiles on their lips but fear in their eyes.
Tony knew the feeling.
Trish squeezed his hand, and somehow that helped enough to get him down the aisle to his seat and through the first set of songs despite Nonna’s coughing.
But nothing helped when Vin cancelled the second set to call an ambulance.
Trish moved through the crowded lobby, desperate to reach the ladies room before anyone stopped her. For the second time today, she suspected her period. There couldn’t be a worse time for obsessing over this.
Pushing against the swinging door, she blinked back tears and walked to the farthest stall. The tears were for Nonna, she told herself, not for what may or may not happen in here. Life vs. death? Hardly a contest. Besides, if she wasn’t pregnant now, she could try again.
The blood-tinged pantyliner caught her eye at the exact time Angie’s voice echoed in her ear.
“Trish, you in here?”
Maybe if she didn’t so much as breathe.
“Hey, Tony sent me to grab you. We’re going to head over to Vin’s to wait on news.”
“I…” her voice caught, “need a second.” Her stomach pushed into her throat. “Maybe two.”
Angie’s heels tapped against the tile floor until she was standing outside the stall. “You okay?”
“Yes.” No, but how could she cry to Angie about not being pregnant when Nonna was losing the battle? Trish had other chances. Nonna might not. Still…
“You don’t sound okay.”
“I’m fine.” She lifted her gaze to the ceiling and exhaled. “I’ll be out soon.”
Angie huffed. “If you say so…” The heels tapped the tile as she walked away. “See you at Vin’s.” The door shut behind her, and Trish was left in the blessed silence of her tears.
She wasn’t pregnant, and Nonna was gravely ill. Maybe everything was hopeless.
Somehow, Trish managed to take care of herself and exit the stall, all the while wondering how she’d tell Tony, when she’d tell him, certainly not today, not until he knew Nonna was okay—if she was okay.
Acid burned Trish’s chest and throat. An hour ago, she would’ve thought it a sign of pregnancy. Now, she knew better, and better sucked.
Standing at the sink, washing her hands, Trish stared bleary-eyed into the mirror until Tony appeared.
“Hey.” His beautiful smile faded when he saw her, and then his face bunched with concern.
“I’m not pregnant.” She hadn’t planned to tell him this way. It wasn’t timely. It wasn’t eloquent. But she needed to say it out loud so she could move on. Somehow saying it to his reflection proved easier.
He closed his eyes, briefly, but it was long enough to add the weight of his disappointment to her already sagging shoulders.
