Page 6 of Beautiful Life
I turn, walk as quickly as I can through the great room, past Gabby and Jude at the front door giving candy to Thing 1 and Thing 2 from the Cat in the Hat.
“Good night,” I announce as I start down the stairs.
“You’re going to bed already?” Gabby asks. “It’s early. Don’t you want to help pass out candy?”
“No, no. I’m tired. See you in the morning.” I don’t give them a second look before I make it to my bedroom and slam the door.
Halloween was just the beginning of Tony’s casual caresses. He always found moments when we were alone to torture me. They would come in the form of him catching my bad good hand, giving my fingers a squeeze. If he walked by me in a room, he would ever so slightly run his hand along the small of my back. When he would come into a room, he would greet me with a sideways hug while looking intently into my eyes lingering way past the point of, “Hello, it’s nice to see you, childhood friend of my favorite cousin.”
Just last week Gabby, Jude, and I made the last-minute decision to go out to dinner when Tony showed up to join us. It was too late for me to make an excuse to stay home since I had already said I was hungry. I even made the extra effort to put on a little makeup for the first time since I got out of the hospital. Putting on makeup with my bad good hand isn’t easy, but I kept it light so I didn’t look like Bozo the Clown. At least Gabby sat in the backseat with me on the way to dinner letting the tall guys sit up front. But as we entered the restaurant, Jude was dragging Gabby along in front of us when Tony lightly grabs my waist, stopping me in surprise. I turn to look up at him and once more he has me alone.
He pulls my side into his rock hard front and with his lips at my temple. “You look beautiful, gem.” Then, if it can be believed, he proceeds to lightly kiss my temple before putting a hand to the small of my back giving me a nudge forward as if nothing happened.
Jude was already sliding into the booth beside Gabby and, grabbing her far hip, he gives her a good yank into his side. I had no choice but to sit next to Tony through dinner where he pressed his thigh and hip up against mine.
Pure. Torture.
“I’m here! I’m here! Sorry I’m late,” Paige announces, pulling me out of my memories as she bursts into the kitchen, arms full of covered dishes and containers of food. “My apartment size oven sucks and I can only bake one thing at a time in small dishes.”
Charlotte chides her. “You’re always late.”
“We don’t care if she’s late babe, we only care what she made.” Charlotte’s husband, Vic, looks to Paige. “What did you make?”
“Sweet potatoes with a brown sugar-nutmeg-honey glaze topped with candied pecans, a caramel apple pie, and I tried a new corn bread dressing this year with bacon in it. Oh, and I made some cookies,” she adds, offhanded.
I hear a beer bottle slam to the granite and look over to see Micah’s husband, Joe, staring at Paige. “You made cookies?”
I hear the deck door slam and Tony saunters in. “My little pest made cookies?”
“Cookies!” tiny Chloe screams at the top of her lungs, as she clippety clops across the kitchen wearing a pair of Gabby’s high heels.
“What’s the deal with the cookies?” Jude’s deep voice enters the cookie conversation where he standing next to Lanny.
“Man, you know we like you.” Lanny, who’s married to Tony’s oldest sister, Sophia, turns to Jude. “But the problem with this family getting bigger and bigger means less cookies for everyone.” Lanny turns to Paige and speaks in cookie code. “Tell me you made them.”
“Of course, I made them.” Paige sounds exasperated. “It’s Thanksgiving. You can’t have Thanksgiving without pumpkin cookies.”
That’s when it happened. Every man in the vicinity, minus Jude since he’s still in cookie confusion, descends upon petite, little Paige. They’re even bumping the little kids out of the way to get to the cookies.
Wow. What is up with these people?
“Carpinos and Carpino in-laws!” Lizzie shouts, as she cradles her six-week-old granddaughter in her arms. “Can you not wait until we give the blessing and have dinner first? The cookies are for dessert. Foolish men. You act like you’ll never see another pumpkin cookie.”
That’s when Tony shows up at my side with a half-eaten cookie in one hand, chewing a mouthful of cookie, and a whole cookie in the other. He shoves the full cookie my way as he swallows. “Here. You don’t want to miss this. Heaven in the form of a cookie.”
I pull in a breath, thinking I’ll never get used to him calling me gem, and try to pull it together. Thinking of nothing but escaping more Tony Torture, I say as he pops the rest of his cookie into his mouth to inhale, “As popular as they seem, I’m fine. You really seem to like them, you should eat it.”
What he does not do is eat the cookie but leans closer. “Did you not see me battle that brawl to win you this cookie? I know you like sweets, Leigh. Eat the cookie.”
“Really. I’m fine,” I say, through clenched teeth. He just doesn’t listen.
“Gem,” he starts as he closes the space between us. His empty hand goes to my hip, up my lower back and he surprises me by pulling my front to his, but the cookie is still held up in between us. “Eat the cookie.”
If for no other reason than to get him to leave me alone and out of my personal space, I snatch the cookie out of his hand and take a bite.
Wow.
This is the best cookie I’ve ever tasted.
