Playing by the Baby Rules

He nodded, no more explanation necessary. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen her in pain, and probably wouldn’t be the last either. “If you’re not feeling good, you don’t have to come to the bar tonight.”

“I’ll be okay in a few minutes. Tell Lucy I’ll be right out.”

She grabbed a bottle of aspirin from the cabinet above the sink in the bathroom and chased three down with water. Clutching the edge of the sink, she sucked in several deep breaths while she waited for the spasms to cease. Every bout of pain lately was a grim reminder she was running out of time. She would only be able to take so much more before she had to give in and have the surgery.

“Risa,” Lucy popped her head in. “Someone here to see you.”

“Did you tell them we’re closed?”

“I tried, but he said it’s personal. Some guy and his daughter.”

Some guy and his…oh no, it couldn’t be. She closed her eyes, shaking her head. Please, not tonight, she prayed silently.

She followed Lucy to the front, and of course, it was him. He always managed to show up when she didn’t want to see him. Which, come to think of it, was most of the time. How long had it been anyway? A year? Maybe longer?

Still tall and handsome, he looked a decade younger than his fifty-two years. The only hint of his true age was the distinguished trace of gray peppering his temples. The woman next to him was poured into a black-and-gold dress and clung to his arm. Maybe she was afraid of busting an ankle on her four-inch spiked heels.

“Marisa,” he said stiffly, gazing with barely masked distaste around the store.

She told herself not to let the rejection bother her, but deep down it stung. There was still a remnant of the little girl in her that used to try so hard to please him.

“Hello, Joseph. Long time no see.”

“I’d like to introduce you to Julia.”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Marisa. I’ve heard so much about you.”

I’ll bet you have, Marisa thought, accepting her petite hand. She knew Joseph had always preferred younger women, but this was obscene. She couldn’t have been more than twenty.

Lucy stood next to her and appeared perplexed. Jake hovered near the counter looking as if he wanted to disappear.

“Where are my manners,” she said. “Joseph, you remember my friend Jake, and this is Lucy Lopez. We work together. Lucy, this is Joseph Donato, my father.”

Joseph gave them both a slight nod.

“So, when’s the big day?” Marisa asked.

Julia looked up at him, confused. “You told her already?”

Marisa gestured to Julia’s right hand. “The rock you’re wearing tipped me off. How many does this make, Joseph? Five or six?”

A nerve twitched in his jaw, and he eyed her sternly. “You know very well that Melinda was my fourth wife, which will make Julia my fifth.”

She challenged his piercing gaze. “You never know. I thought maybe you slipped one in somewhere without telling me.”

“Marisa,” Julia said, stepping forward. “Joey and I wanted to invite you to join us for dinner, to celebrate our engagement.”

“Really?” She could barely hide her surprise. “Whose idea was that?”

Julia glanced nervously at Joseph. “Um, both of ours.”

Boy, was she a lousy liar. Marisa knew Joseph wouldn’t have voluntarily asked her to join him for a meal. Still, she had no reason to be rude to Julia. “I’m sorry, I have plans tonight. But thank you for the invitation.”

“You will come to the wedding, won’t you?”

She’d never attended one of her father’s weddings. Well, not since his second marriage when her mother had sent her to the formal reception decked out in a ratty old dress and scuffed shoes. She had wanted all of his guests to see how poorly he cared for his daughter. She’d given no thought to how mortified Marisa would feel.

“Your father doesn’t love you,” her mother had said. “He only cares about himself, and now everyone will know it.”

It never escaped Marisa’s attention that her mother had a closet full of designer clothes and shoes. But when Marisa needed money for school clothes, or the rent was due, the well was always dry.

“It’s August eighteenth,” Julia was saying. “Can you make it?”

Marisa scrambled for an excuse to decline.

“It would mean so much to us,” Julia pressed. The look she gave Marisa was nearly pleading. “Please come.”

Pity for the girl overshadowed reason. Julia seemed nice enough. Clueless—but nice. “Sure, I’ll come.”

“Oh good!” she said excitedly. Joseph stood next to her, his face solemn. “I’ll send you an invitation.”

“We should go,” Joseph said, taking her arm. “We’ll miss our reservations.”

“It was so nice meeting you.” Julia took Marisa’s hand again, this time squeezing it firmly. “I hope we see each other again soon.”

Joseph nodded in her direction. “Take care of yourself, Marisa,” he said, guiding Julia to the door.

“It was nice meeting you, too, Lucy and Jake!” Julia waved as the door jangled shut.

“Whoa.” Lucy leaned against the counter next to Jake. “That was tense.”

“Very tense,” Jake agreed. “On a scale of one to ten, I’d give it a sphincter level of about ninety-nine point nine.”

“Your father is gorgeous,” Lucy said.

Marisa grabbed her purse from the file-cabinet drawer and pulled out her keys. “Don’t think he doesn’t know it.”

Lucy switched the lights off and they started toward the door. “Are you really going to go to their wedding?”

“I might. I’m a little curious, I guess.” They stepped outside into the stifling heat and Marisa locked up behind them.

“Your family is so scandalous,” Lucy said. “I envy you. I’ve got a family full of practicing Catholics. It’s so dull.”

They wove their way down Main Street toward the bar. As was the case every Friday night, the streets of the trendy town were clogged with people. “Lucy, trust me when I tell you it’s not as exciting as you may think. Especially for the people directly involved.”

Jake only nodded silently. Having grown up in an equally dysfunctional family, no one had to explain the concept to him.

When they reached the bar, they walked past the long line of customers waiting for a table and the bouncer motioned them through the door.