… can’t a girl ask any questions?”
“You can ask questions, but you can’t say no,” I tell her. “Consider this the last hurrah, if you will.”
“I’m game,” Claudia says. “My schedule is painfully clear.”
“Maybe it won’t be, after Mexico.”
“Mexico?” Claudia asks.
“Why not? The Mayan Riviera is beautiful. I’ll go home and start checking on packages right away.”
I stare at Lishelle, waiting for confirmation from her. “All right, I’m in. I’ll ask for the time tomorrow.”
“And if they give you any problems, you have me call them,” I say. “No one wants to deal with an irate pregnant woman.” I narrow my eyes playfully. “That goes for both of you too.”
Claudia smirks. “Point taken. We’re going to Mexico!”
“Or else,” I add in a mock-threatening tone. And then, “Seriously, guys, we’re going to have an amazing time. The absolute best.”
“I’ve got a plan,” I say in a singsong voice as I enter the Pine Lake home I share with Dom. “I think I may have the perfect men for—” I stop abruptly as I round a corner into the family room and see Dominic’s mother sitting on the armchair near the window. “Oh.” I quickly quash my frown. “Hello.”
“Hello, Annelise.” Mama Deanna, as I call her, is sitting on the armchair and knitting something white. She eases herself up to kiss me on both cheeks, the way they do in the old country. “My darling, how are you? How’s the baby?”
Mama Deanna speaks with a fairly thick Italian accent, most of her words ending with an a sound. How’s came out as howsa. She’s short, about five feet two, and round.
“Where’s Dominic?” I ask.
“I sent him to get groceries. You no have no vegetables, no fruit.” She tsks. “You need this stuff now that you’re going to be a mother. Don’t worry—I’m going to help you take care of yourself and my grandchild.”
Mama Deanna pats my arm, as if to say that there’s nothing to worry about because she’s here.
I don’t bother to tell her that I was planning to come home and draft a grocery list. I’d rather not say anything that will draw any attention to my perceived flaws.
And speaking of flaws, I glance around, noting that the place seems considerably cleaner. So clean that the camera bag I had in the corner of the living room is no longer there. “Mama Deanna, have you seen my black camera bag?”
“Oh, yes. I put it in a box in the garage. The place was too messy.”
Turning, I roll my eyes. In the past, Dominic’s mother has come for a week at a time, and I hate to say it, but I have counted the days until she left. I like the woman, don’t get me wrong. It’s just … well, she can be overbearing. I always hear from her that I’m not feeding Dom well enough and a host of other offenses—including the big issue, that we’re living in sin.
I head to the garage, where not only do I find my camera bag in a cardboard box—dumped as if it is garbage—but I see a number of envelopes. All of the bills that Dom and I have to pay. At least I know where the stuff is, so I don’t bother to take it out of the garage. I have no doubts that if I do, Mama Deanna will see to it that she “tidies up” once more.
I go back into the house and into the kitchen, where I pour myself a tall glass of orange juice. “So, how long are you staying?”
“Until you have the baby.”
I almost spit out the mouthful of orange juice. “W-what?”
“You need me now,” Mama Deanna explains. “I’ve had four babies. I know just what to do.”
She’s staying for the next four months? Did Dom know about this? I head into the foyer, where I left my purse and retrieve my cell phone. I plan to call him and ask exactly that. But before I can, I hear the sound of the garage door opening.
I open the door leading into the garage. I’m standing there as Dom gets out of his Audi. He is grinning, but it falters. Probably when he notices the expression on my face.
“Annelise—”
“She’s moving in for four months?” I ask.
“We never had a conversation about her moving in for four months.”
“But she is moving in, isn’t she?”
“She said she wants to help out, yes. And I don’t think it’s a bad idea.”
I show him the box with our bills and my camera equipment. “This is her idea of cleaning up,” I point out. “If she keeps this up, we’ll never find anything.”
Dom opens the trunk and begins lifting out the groceries, which are packed in reusable tote bags. “She means well.”
“You should have talked to me. Run this by me.”
With two heavy bags in his hands, Dom closes the trunk and then walks toward me. When he reaches me, he leans forward to give me a kiss. “She showed up out of the blue.”
“You had no clue?”
“I was talking to her last week, and she said that she wanted to come and help out while you’re pregnant. I had no clue she was going to show up today. And it’s not like I could send her away.”
I sigh softly. “No. Of course not. But she told me she’s staying until I have the baby. I know she’s your mother, but—”
Dom cuts me off with a quick kiss on my lips. “It won’t be four months.”
“It might be. Now that your father is gone, there’s no reason for your mother to go back home.”
Dom kisses me again. “I don’t want you worrying about my mother.” And this time, his tongue slips into my mouth. The kiss is harder, and I can’t help moaning against Dominic’s lips.
He lowers one of the bags, slips his hand under my skirt and trails his fingers up my thigh to my thong. He strokes my clit through the lacy fabric, moaning as he does.
Just as my body begins to feel aroused, I break the kiss and step backward, then swat him playfully. “And that’s the other thing—with your mother around, we won’t have any privacy. And you know how much we like our privacy.”
“That’s why we have to sneak in time where we can get it. Mmm … you’re already wet. I love how horny you are now that you’re pregnant.”
He gives me a long, heated look, and I know he’s considering screwing me right here in the garage.
The idea actually turns me on.
“No,” I say, shaking my head.
“No?”
