she replied, pressing a spoon against a melting marshmallow.
“Popsicle?” her mother asked, laughing. “That’s an unusual name. What else?”
“Cupcake,” Calli giggled.
“Cupcake? Is that her middle name?”
Calli nodded, her smile filled with sticky white marshmallows. “Birthday Cake,” she added. “Popsicle Cupcake Birthday Cake, that’s her name.”
“I like it,” her mother said, grinning, “but every time I say her name, I think I’ll get hungry. How about Lily or Evelyn? Evelyn was my mother’s name.”
Calli made a face and tentatively took a sip of her cocoa. She felt the burn of the liquid traveling down her throat and she waved a hand in front of her mouth as if to fan away the warmth.
The back door opened, bringing with it a swirl of frozen air that made Calli squeal. “Daddy!” she cried out, “Daddy’s home!” She stood on her chair and reached her arms out, snagging onto his neck as he passed by her. The cold that hung on his parka seeped through her sweatshirt and he tried to set Calli down.
“Not now, Calli, I need to talk to your mom.” Calli did not release his neck as he clumsily approached her mother and he shifted her so that she rested on his hip.
The smell of beer bit at her nose. “Stinky.” She grimaced.
“I thought you were getting here hours ago,” Antonia said in a measured tone. “Did you just roll into town?”
“I’ve been gone three weeks, what’re a few hours more?” Griff’s words were innocent, but had a bite to them. “I stopped at O’Leary’s for a drink with Roger.”
Antonia scanned him up and down. “From the smell of things and the way you’re lurching around, you had more than a few. You’ve been gone for a month. I figured once you got back to town, you’d want to see your family.”
Calli heard the tension in their voices and squirmed to get out of Griff’s arms. He held her tightly.
“I do wanna see my family, but I wanna see my friends, too.” Griff opened the refrigerator and searched for a beer, but found none. He slammed the door, causing the glass bottles to rattle against each other.
“I don’t want to fight.” Antonia went to Griff and hugged him awkwardly, her belly an obstacle. Calli reached her arms out toward her mother, but Griff whisked her away and sat down at the kitchen table, Calli on his lap.
“I had an interesting chat at O’Leary’s,” Griff said conversationally. Antonia waited, poised for what she knew was to come. “Some guys were saying that Loras Louis has been hanging around here lately.”
Antonia turned to a cupboard and began pulling dinner plates down. “Oh, he shoveled the drive one day for me last week. He was over checking on Mrs. Norland. The mail carrier said she wasn’t getting her mail out of her mailbox. She was fine. Anyway, he saw me out shoveling and asked if he could help,” she explained, turning to see Griff’s reaction. “Ben was sick, throwing up. He couldn’t shovel, so I went out to do it. He stopped by, no big deal. He didn’t come in the house.”
Griff continued to stare at Antonia, his face implacable.
“What? You think I would…we would…I’m seven months pregnant!” Antonia laughed humorlessly. “Forget it, think what you want. I’m going to go lie down.” Antonia charged out of the kitchen. Calli could hear her weighted, clumsy steps on the stairs.
Griff shot from his chair, raising Calli up with him. The force caused her to bite down on her tongue and she cried out in pain, the tinny taste of blood filling her mouth.
“I’m talking to you!” he shouted after her. “Don’t you want to hear what everyone is saying?” He moved quickly to the bottom of the stairs. “Come back here!” Calli could see a purple vein pulse at his temple, could see the tendons of his neck strain against his skin. She began to cry loudly and struggled against Griff.
“Put her down!” Antonia called down to him. “You’re scaring her!”
“Shut up! Shut up!” Griff bellowed at Calli, climbing the steps two at a time, her neck jerking violently with each step.
“Put her down, Griff. You’re hurting her!” Antonia was crying now, her arms outstretched to Calli, reaching for her.
“Dirty whore! Taking up with him again. How does that make me look? I’m away slaving to make money for this family, and you’re sitting here, taking up with your old boyfriend.”
Spittle flew from his lips, mingling with Calli’s tears and she arched her back violently, trying to escape his grip.
Antonia screeched, “Oh my God, Griff! Stop it. Stop it, please!”
Griff had reached the top of the steps, stood next to Antonia and yanked her arm. “Slut.” Calli’s hysterical wails nearly drowned Griff’s ranting.
“Mommy! Mommy!”
“Shut up! Shut up!” Griff tossed Calli to the floor at the top of the stairs. Her head bounced sickeningly off the hardwood floor and she was silent for a moment, her desperate eyes on her mother, who was shoving Griff away from her to get to Calli. Griff held tightly to her mother’s arm and she snapped back like a rubber band. For an instant, before Toni tumbled backward down the steps, Griff nearly steadied her. Calli and Griff both watched in horror as Antonia’s back slammed into the steps and she fell to the ground below.
“Mommy!” Calli yelped as Griff skidded down the steps to Antonia. He knelt before her where she was crumpled. She was conscious, her face twisted in pain, her arms cradled around her belly, moaning silently.
“Can you sit up? Shut up, Calli!” he barked. Calli continued to sob as Griff settled Antonia into a sitting position.
“The baby, the baby,” she cried.
“It will be all right, it will be all right,” Griff said pleadingly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Calli, shut the hell up. Can you walk? Here, let’s get you to the couch.” Griff gently raised Antonia to her feet and led her to the sofa, where he laid her down and placed an afghan over her. “Just rest, just rest. It will be okay.”
Calli continued to scream in the background, her weeping getting closer as she made her way down the stairs and moved to her mother’s side. Antonia, eyes half-closed, put one arm toward Calli.
“Get away!” Griff hollered. “Jesus, stay out of the way, and shut up!” Griff’s hands were shaking as he snatched Calli up and took her into the kitchen. “Sit here and shut up!” Griff paced around the kitchen, pulled at his hair, and wiped his mouth with one trembling hand.
Griff bent down to Calli, her tearful screams dropping to grief-stricken hiccups, and whispered into her ear for one full minute. During those interminable sixty seconds Calli’s eyes blinked rapidly at Griff’s words. His breath hissed across the delicate crevices of her ear and mingled with her mother’s soft cries. Then he stood and rushed out the back door with a gust of wintry, bitter wind, taking away more than he arrived with.
That evening, after Ben came home, Calli and Ben sat vigil
