“I don’t know,” she said softly. “I guess you’ll have to do a little soul searching and see if there’s any way he can earn your trust again.” She exhaled loudly. “Look, I haven’t been Nick’s biggest fan over the years, but I do believe that he loved you. Maybe he still does. And I also know that love involves taking risks without being able to know for sure how things turn out. But mostly, Coco, I know this—you deserve that happily ever after.”
I smiled, closing my eyes against tears. “Thanks. I love you.”
“I love you too. It’s going to be all right.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t, not for sure.” She laughed gently. “But I’ve got a feeling.”
Nick was already down in the kitchen singing along to Frank Sinatra by the time I hung up with Mia and scurried down the hall to the guest bathroom. I took a shower, washed my hair, and put on the other sundress I’d brought, a navy and white chevron print with camisole straps. Since I wasn’t sure who else might be staying in the guest rooms, I didn’t want to monopolize the bathroom blow drying my hair in there, so I plugged my dryer in behind the dresser in my bedroom and used the mirror hanging above it. There was a row of family pictures on top of the dresser—Noni and Nick’s grandpa, who’d died before I met Nick, in a shot from maybe fifteen years ago; Nick and a whole gaggle of cousins sitting on the front porch steps eating popsicles; and a wedding photo from the nineteen forties. I could tell the era because of the Victory rolls in the women’s hair, the cut of the bride’s dress and the wide ties on the men. It was clearly a Lupo family photo, but I didn’t recognize anyone in particular, not even a young Noni. Although, wait a minute…I turned off the dryer and picked up the photo frame to study it more closely. Standing to the right of the bride and groom was a middle-aged couple that looked familiar, and the woman was so short I knew in a heartbeat who it was—Nick’s great-grandparents, Papa Joe and Tiny.
I couldn’t help smiling as I looked at them. I loved the way they held hands, the way his body was inclined slightly toward hers in a way that was both tender and protective. And her red lips—loved those red lips.
I set the photo down and picked up the dryer again. Although it was noisy, I could still hear Nick as well as some others singing down in the kitchen. I shook my head—they were such a loud, rambunctious bunch. I remembered feeling overwhelmed the first few times I attended Lupo family functions. Their boisterous Sunday dinners (which took all day) were so different from my family’s sedate, relaxed meals, served promptly at six, done by seven, everyone on their way home by eight. I mean, Nick’s family was relaxed too—they were just noisier about it. But they were more fun, too. I’d always loved his family.
Grinning at a particularly off-key rendition of “Fly Me to the Moon” (I’d bet money someone was dancing down there too), I thought how surprised they would be to see me again.
Coco, what are you doing here?
I’m fucking the cook. How’ve you been?
Marveling at the absurd turn my life had taken, I went over to my suitcase and unzipped the side pocket to look for my curling iron.
That’s when I noticed my birth control pills.
My jaw dropped and I sucked in my breath— I’d forgotten to take one last night! Fingers fumbling, I hastily popped out the one for Friday, shoved it into my mouth and raced down the hall to the bathroom, sticking my head under the faucet and gulping noisily. When I’d swallowed it, I wiped my mouth with the back of my wrist and straightened slowly. In the mirror over the sink, I saw flushed cheeks, dilated pupils, scared doe eyes. My heart thundered in my chest.
I closed my eyes. God, how could I have been so stupid? We’d used a condom at Nick’s place the first time, but after that, I’d assured him it was OK to go without one. Today at the house I’d thought about the one big pregnancy scare we’d had in college, and I still hadn’t realized I’d forgotten a pill!
Damn you, Nick Lupo. You’re making me crazy.
A sweat broke out on my back and I realized I’d forgotten to put on deodorant too. Christ, Coco, anything else you overlooked? I checked to make sure I was actually wearing clothes before darting back into my room and applying copious amounts of Secret Invisible Solid in Fresh Scent under each arm. Boy, this stuff would have to work overtime tonight—I was sweating like crazy.
In case it helped improve the strength or something, I took Saturday night’s pill right then too— somehow doubling up seemed like a good idea. In my mind I saw Lupo family pictures with bazillions of kids and babies in them—the family was prolific, no doubt about that. Jesus, Nick probably had some kind of superpower sperm that would easily overtake my lame efforts at doubling up. My stomach churned as I imagined little tadpole-shaped things throwing a huge bash in my fallopian tubes right now, laughing at my attempts to thwart their objective and impede their mission.
With shaking hands and a queasy gut—wait, was that morning sickness? God help me—I finished my hair and makeup in a daze and slipped on my flats, trying to think where I was in my cycle. OK, the last week of pills, so that wasn’t too dangerous, was it? Wasn’t it the beginning or middle that was more critical? I was too scared to look it up.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was so my fault. And now I had to tell Nick. Not in the middle of Noni’s dinner, though. That seemed like bad manners. I’d wait until tomorrow.