Best Laid Plans (20 page)

“There’s a lot of testosterone in this group,” Gina warned her at the last-minute engagement party, which had been four days before the hen party. “Not just from the dudes either. Oi, oi, oi! OI! Do NOT touch the cannelloni!” Tony put his hands back in his pockets, while Beppe wiped sugar dust from his hands. “I didn’t do it.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Gina sighed. “I can’t be civilised with them anywhere.”

“They’re all so pretty, I don’t think anyone cares,” Frankie admitted.

The women were all intent on finishing off three bottles of champagne Tony had sent up to the room, while Frankie could only watch in envy, with her sparkling fruit juice. Sodding insult. Sparkling fruit juice! Actually, she was more envious of Gina, who seemed to have shrunk back to her normal size after giving birth to her firstborn five months ago. She was a bridesmaid not only because she’d been a fantastic, calming presence in Frankie’s life, her own personal sounding board for pregnancy and labour, but she’d been more of a sister to Luca than his own sibling, which naturally included ribbing the hell out of him. Gina had gone over to Frankie’s house with her beautiful son when Angelo had all but kidnapped Luca for a belated stag party. Then she’d called over massage therapists and nail technicians and brought with her Frankie’s favourite, sweet walnut loaf. Today, Gina claimed solidarity in sisterhood by producing a bottle of ginger ale as if by magic. “I’m still breastfeeding, so I can’t drink. I should though. That little bullet is hyperactive, I’m telling you.” She twisted her lips as she watched Kate pour another glass. “It might help him calm down.”

“No!” Pardeep said, slapping Gina’s hand. “No drinking. No drunk babies. No.”

Gina booed them thoroughly. Frankie told them all to stop making her laugh. “You’re making this shit run. No offence,” she added to the makeup artist, who was dabbing a cotton bud under her eyes. She couldn’t help that her eye went to the door every five minutes, wondering if her mother had changed her mind. Luca asked if she wanted to call her father and tell him, but it didn’t make a difference to Frankie. She wasn’t going to give a role as important as that to a man who hadn’t made a single appearance at any of the vital stages of her life. Besides, what would Tony do if he found out he was being usurped by the disappearing father?

Frankie was helped into her dress, shoes and veil by all four women at once. It was hard manoeuvring around the beach ball that was her tummy and her impatient children elbowing each other for more room. “There is no more room!” she warned them. They stilled for all of a minute before starting again. It was a foretelling of the future, she thought morosely. Tony came to collect her and led her to the ceremony room.

“You look beautiful,” he asserted. “Not at all like a knocked-up teenager being forced to marry her boyfriend.” She sent him a look of pure evil. “You’ve met my wife, right? So you know looks don’t penetrate my force field.”

Thankfully, it made Frankie laugh all the way down the aisle to meet Luca. He looked perfect. Even more perfectly, she just about staved off her children’s hunger during the ceremony, managed not to fall over when she gave Angelo a kiss on the cheek for doing his one job properly by remembering the rings, and barely prevented an absolute howling bawl-fest when Luca placed the ring on her finger. They were pronounced husband and wife, and Luca kissed away the tears hesitating on her lash line. Together, they turned to head into the dining hall and she caught sight of her mother, sitting at the back of the hall. Her whole body gave a clench when Joanne, clapping along with every other guest, said to her, “You look gorgeous, Francesca. Really, really radiant.”

“Thank you, Mum,” she murmured, tears tugging at her throat. She felt a yank on her lower back that dried any tears and made her almost lose her step instead. Luca caught her with one hand and pulled her upright. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

“Is this really happening?” she asked. Another pull on her lower back told her that there was no way she’d dream herself in that much pain. What the hell, man! She made it through saying hello to everyone who turned up, while Lydia sorted out the flowers and made sure people sat down. For two people who didn’t have much in the way of family, they had accumulated a lot if one judged by the number of guests and the huge pile of presents stacked in the corner by a meticulously organised Anna Taylor. Anna happened to be as tall and as sharp as Frankie thought, even more so, but completely at odds with the image of the ruthless lawyer was the quirk of her mouth and her wild, red-tinted curls.
So this is my new family,
Frankie thought.
I sense serious dysfunction already.
That was before Tony even said a word in speech. Lydia hid under the table as soon as he opened his mouth.

The regularity of the contractions in the middle of the best salmon teriyaki starter she’d had since she’d met Luca should have deterred her from more food, but she really was starving. Frankie was just going to enjoy the last of the rice before she told anyone about her contractions, in full consideration of the fact that she was eating for two of the most demanding little buggers she’d ever encountered.

“Do you want to take a breath, sweetheart?” Luca asked, watching her shovel food.

“Why?”

“Widen those odds on you choking? Maybe?”

She turned to him, giving her most seductive smile. “The only thing I’ve been at risk of choking on is your dick.”

“Whoa! Other people in the room.”

“Sod ’em. I could do with some more ginger ale, can you get me a glass please? I’ll love you forever and ever.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You just promised to do that—you can’t use it for bargaining.”

“Yes I can!”

They both looked down at the sudden flush of water underneath the top table. “You little bastards,” Frankie hissed at her stomach. “You couldn’t let me be a legitimate married woman for one day?”

“Well, they’re not bastards now,” Luca sighed, getting to his feet and calling attention to the hall. “I’m so sorry, but Francesca and I need to leave. Her waters just broke, so wish us luck and we’ll see you all soon with two boys!”

Everyone erupted into cheers of delight. Her mother came sidling to her. “Shall I come too?”

“Oh God no!” Frankie heaved. “Look, it’s nice, but I’m going to be mad enough as it is. And Ms. Johnson only allows one family member in a room at a time.”

Joanne looked disappointed. Frankie relented. She’d just got married and therefore could afford to be a little bit nice. “Luca will call you as soon as anything happens. More than this. Lucky, I have fucked these shoes.”

“I’ll get you a new pair, I promise.” He scooped her into his arms without a single grunt of effort and carried her to his car. “Eight months. Not bad going considering we moved, installed a new kitchen, got engaged, had two parties and got married.”

“Had two people killed,” Frankie added. “I say we’re doing pretty fucking well. Ooh, owwch! That really hurt!”

Luca’s jaw twitched. “Have you been having contractions all day?”

“Pretty much. But lookie, we’re all Caristo-fied so it’s holy shit! Bugger! Fuck!”

“Future first words of both kids.”

Frankie gripped the door for want of anything else to grab so she could channel her pain. “Don’t be clever. Not now. Wait, don’t drive off, we need to get some cake!”

He stared at her incredulously. “To eat?”

“Yes, to eat! Be quick. Please.”

A knock sounded on Frankie’s window. Her mother stood there with a white box and a Tupperware box filled with jollof rice. “I brought you some food. To take with you. The cake should bring you both good luck.”

Oh.
Now
Frankie was going to cry. “Thank you.”

Her mother opened the backseat and placed the cake and Tupperware boxes in the back. As soon as the door closed, Luca zoomed off to the hospital. “Everything we need is in your case. We’re good.”

Three and a half hours later, Frankie was not sorted. She was certainly not
good
. This had to be the worst thing on earth, and she had managed to run her midwife out of the room. Already. Goddammit. Frankie was half braced on Luca, who was sitting behind her, drawing an ice-cold flannel over her spine. The cake was long gone, and so was Frankie’s sense of humour.

“Who, who keeps condoms two years out of date? It’s such a fucking stupid thing to do!”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

She burst into tears again. “2010 was a bullshit year as well.”

“It really was. Does that feel better?”

“Yeah, keep doing that. Oh God, where is this fucking OB? I want my nice, neat planned Caesarean. I don’t want my vagina ruined.”

She could feel Luca chuckling behind her as he threw the flannel into the ice bucket. “Me neither. But I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“Why the fuck not?”

Luca removed a bottle of relaxation oil from her bag and methodically massaged it into her back. “Let’s see what the OB says.”

“That’s good,” she breathed in relief. “That’s so much better. Carry on with that. You are really good at this.”

“Old job. Knowing pressure points.”

“No, talking about bad old days. Shush. Just massage.”

“Yes, Mrs. Caristo.”

She turned her head with a gasp. “Do you know how awesome that sounds?”

He brushed his lips over her damp temple. “Yes, I do.”

“Okay, good.” She released a long, slow breath. “Let’s get these little buggers out of me and you can give me a full-body massage. Yes?”

“Absolutely.” He kissed her temple again. “Best wedding day, ever.”

Luca wiggled back into the rocking chair, one son in each arm. They were both watching him suspiciously, but as soon as the rocking motion began, their eyes drifted closed. They tended to look at him that way. The
you’re not bringing us food
face. “No, I’m not. You’re going to let me enjoy my wife’s breasts alone tonight. I’ve let her be for four whole months. I gave her extra time because she didn’t get her nice, neat Caesarean. You made that impossible by just getting out when she told you to. But that’s the best way to be with your mother. Do as you’re told. Right?” Sansone yawned. Vincente echoed his brother as usual and blew a tiny bubble. “I’m glad you agree with me. I’ve been a towering pillar of restraint, especially since half an hour after she gave birth to you two, she told me she felt quite a bit horny.”

The nursery was admittedly a bit of a mess. It was still filled with unopened presents, collapsed towers of towels, clothing and toys. The dry marker feeding schedule was half falling from the wall. That was his fault—he’d practically fallen asleep against it. As soon as his little men were in the land of nod, he’d tidy up and then at last, he’d be able to seduce his beautiful wife, who had, while graciously telling him how much he needed to make up for “that fucking condom,” given him the two most gorgeous children on earth.

He glanced up to see Francesca in the doorway, behind a huge camera that Lydia had given them as a present. “Family album photos. I’m being paparazzi—just stay there a minute.”

He obliged her, trying not to pay too much attention to her bare legs. “Me and the boys are fine.”

She lowered the camera with a sigh. “You all look so beautiful. Are they all right? Can you put them down now? I really could do with about four hours’ sleep, but I just about want sex more. So hurry up.”

With a smile, Luca eased out of the rocking chair and returned each boy to his crib. “Don’t you want me to tidy up in here first?”

“Oh, my God! That just turned me on even more. Come one LDILF.”

“What’s the L?”

“Lucky!” She grinned, holding out her hand to him.

When he laid his wife down on their bed, slowly undressed her, made her beg and whimper and order him to do something, enjoyed the delicious sensation of her body, tight and hot around him, moving demandingly against his own until they both found their release…only then did he truly appreciate just how lucky he was.

Alfieri Caristo’s carer gave a cheer. “Well done! You’ve worked hard today.”