Mommies Behaving Badly. Roz Bailey
true,” Harrison corrected me. “If his life weren’t so darned bad, you wouldn’t like him so darned much. Bad boys are hot, I tell, you! Hot, hot, hot!”
I vehemently denied the bad-boy attraction, though in my heart I knew there was a scintilla of truth to it. Certainly, Jack’s Lost Boy quality had some appeal for me, but I was equally attracted to his sensitive side and the vulnerability he kept hidden from his family. I didn’t want his dysfunctional family, but I was very interested in the boy who had survived those dysfunctions.
On Christmas Day we went to my parents’ house in Maplewood, New Jersey, where all seven of the grandchildren were given free reign over Mimi and Papa’s house. For the first time in weeks I felt free to enjoy a drink and adult conversation. As I laughed with my sister and brother over some old family photos, I felt relieved that none of us had slipped into self-inflicted alienation in some distant state.
“Another Christmas and still no sign of Sis?” Amber asked. “That’s just fried.”
When Jack and I were in the throes of wedding preparations word about his “missing” sister had slipped out, and though my sister and I had fought like demons through childhood we suddenly seemed to be shining examples of sisterhood.
“Well, after last night I’m beginning to think Gia had the right idea.” When she shot me a curious look, I just shook my head. “Don’t ask. It’s a wonder Jack survived those people.”
Amber put her empty glass on the end table and stretched like a cat on my mother’s jade green sofa. Although she’s got two kids and a career as a full-time mommy in New Jersey, she hasn’t lost the ability to relax.
“The Salernos are a tough bunch. Compared to Jack and Frankie, you and I look like the Olsen twins.”
I held up my hand with a laugh. “Ooh! Can I be Mary-Kate?”
My brother Sam popped into the living room to deliver a fresh batch of whiskey sours and tease us about abandoning our children.
“Don’t get up,” he told Amber, who was prone on the couch. “I’ll just start an IV line and drip this one in for you.”
She sat up and reached for the drink. “Smart-ass. Be nice to me or I’ll go off to California or Alaska, never to be seen again.”
I smiled, feeling the glow of Christmas and sibling affection.
He pointed toward the family room. “As long as you take those two screaming monsters with you.”
I felt a twinge of emotion, knowing I’d be the one moving off to a distant state soon, though my departure wasn’t like Gia’s. There’d be family visits and phone calls and e-mails. I closed my eyes, picturing a house with a guestroom big enough to put up Amber or Sam and their families when they came to visit.
“How are the kids doing in there?” Amber asked.
Sam lifted his drink to his lips. “Tyler just bit Scout. Didn’t break the skin, and she did punch him first. Otherwise, it’s one big love fest.”
The love fest grew louder when the food started coming out of my parents’ huge refrigerator. Shrimp was not served, but my father had smoothed sour cream to concoct a fish shape out of layers of caviar, hard-boiled egg and red onion. It was delicious, and although caviar has always been a favorite of mine, Jack was allowed to eat as much as he wanted.
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