Page 71 of Mafia Baby

I’d been told by other moms that sometimes boys and girls just cooked differently while they were sharing your body and I have certainly experienced that with my second pregnancy.

Between the wild dreams and the frequent bouts of morning sickness, this pregnancy has been completely different than when I was carrying Jade inside my body.

Dom is excited to have a son on the way, but he has been worried about the toll that this pregnancy has been taking on me.

He offered to plan out Jade’s birthday party for me, and he has done an amazing job. I glance around at the beautiful streamers and shiny balloons and grin. Dom is the perfect husband and an even better father. I am a very lucky woman.

The doorbell rings, and I carry Jade with me to answer it. I open the door and Diva is standing on the porch with a big smile on her face.

Diva and I have only gotten closer over the past few years, and she is over at our house at least once a week. Jade loves her as well, which has a lot to do with Diva’s natural sense of ease with children.

“Hey babe,” Diva says to me, leaning over to hug me. We manage the hug despite Jade being in my arms and both of us being pregnant. Diva’s boyfriend is one of the young bouncers at the club and we have teased her relentlessly about robbing the cradle ever since she got together with him.

He’s incredibly hot, however, and wise beyond his years, and Dom and I are happy for her. It’s also been very fun to be pregnant at the same time. We have made lots of jokes about raising “twins” that aren’t actually twins since we both found out we were pregnant on practically the same day.

“Where’s the man of the house?” Diva asks me, stepping over the threshold and closing the door. She presses her hands into her back and leans against them with a sigh.

She’s vastly pregnant at this point, her tiny body showing the pregnancy even more than mine.

“He went to pick up my mom,” I say, pulling a face.

Diva glances at me sympathetically. My father went to prison as a result of the federal investigation that happened after my brother died and my mother has not taken it well.

She spent some time in France, but then reluctantly came home to deal with the fallout of our family’s shame. She lost all of her fancy friends when my father went to prison, and she has insisted on wallowing in her sadness at the house I grew up in, rarely agreeing to come out in public or even see her grandchild.

Dom declared enough was enough about two months ago and started picking her up and bringing her over for dinner. It’s been awkward, and she’s not the best of company, but I know he’s right.

She needs to heal and she won’t be able to do so if she is moping around the family mansion drinking alone.

I hear a car pull up outside and Jade starts struggling in my arms. “Daddy,” she says to me demandingly. I roll my eyes and put her down. Dom is the love of her life. I’m currently chopped liver to her when she has the chance to be with him.

“She loves her daddy, doesn’t she?” Diva says fondly, looking down at my daughter as she hustles over to the door to peer through the glass alongside it, eager for a sight of her father.

I nod. “Yes, but I think it’s mostly because they are essentially the same person.” I stroke my belly. “Despite the struggles of this pregnancy, I have hope that my son will be more like me. It seems only fair.” I laugh.

Diva grins at me. “You two are a force to be reckoned with. You weren’t destined to have easy-going children.”

Dom opens the door to our home and sweeps Jade up into his arms. She giggles loudly and squeals as he swings her around.

My mother wanders in after him, smiling awkwardly. Her eyes fall on Diva and her mouth firms into a prim line. She doesn’t approve of me being friends with exotic dancers, but she is trying to learn to let go of her snobby ways.

“Hi, Mom,” I say to my mother, coming over to give her a hug.

“Goodness, my dear,” she says to me as she returns it. “You look like that baby is going to be here any moment.”

I laugh. She’s not wrong. “It feels like it sometimes. I swear I still have a few more weeks.”

She smiles at me, a real smile this time. “Your brother was the same way. He made the last few weeks of my pregnancy very uncomfortable.”

We both remain quiet for a moment, aware that speaking of my brother is going to be hard for years to come.

My mom’s eyes mist over with tears, and I feel sorry for her.

My nightmares about killing my only sibling have faded some over time, but now that I have a child, I cannot even imagine what my mother must be going through each day.

Losing my brother to violence and then having my father go to prison has taken away all of the support in my mother's life.

“Just wait until you get to hold another Bianchi boy in your arms,” I say to her cheerily, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m sure I will need all your help when we first get home from the hospital.”

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