Page 115 of Married With Malice

The mom gives us an exasperated glance and then hustles to catch up to her offspring.

“And someday you can teach our kids,” I say to Anni.

“I’d love that,” she whispers.

When I look into her eyes I can see our future there. We’ll have a noisy, active household with toys on the floor and forts in the backyard.

And neither Richie Amato or Albie Barone or the rest of those fucking mafia scumbags will EVER get anywhere near our kids.

Before I get all bent out shape thinking about what waits back in New York, I claim our skates and lead Anni to the seats.

She’s lightning quick about lacing her skates up, as if she can’t wait to get out there. The rink is smaller than the one where she used to practice but judging by the huge smile on her face, she doesn’t mind.

“Come on,” she says, skating backwards as the music starts.

“In a minute.” I’m far slower about lacing up my skates.

I haven’t been on the ice since high school and I’d rather not humiliate myself by face planting in front of my wife. Besides, this is her moment, her time to shine.

Anni skates a lap around the rink and then another lap, even faster. She ends with a single axel jump and glides right past me. She moves with incomparable grace and every second she’s on the ice is pure artistry.

I’m in awe, absolute awe.

It’s as if no time has passed since I was a teenage boy secretly watching her from the stands and nursing a serious crush.

That boy would be astounded to know the forbidden girl he was obsessed with would someday be his wife.

And what’s more, he would love her so fiercely that one look at her was enough to make his throat tighten.

Anni is lost in her imagination for the next two songs. She spins and she stretches and she lands every jump. She’s so breathtakingly perfect that I utter a silent curse to strike down Albie Barone for taking this away from her.

No one will ever take anything from her again.

Anni coasts to a stop at the wall and crooks a finger. With my skates tightly laced I’m out of excuses. Anyway, I’d never refuse her.

The years I’ve spent off the ice are on full wobbly display. Anni takes my hand and we skate a couple of slow laps around the rink while muscle memory kicks in. I won’t be trying stunts anytime soon but I’m steady enough to lift my girl into my arms and spin around with her.

Anni loves it. She throws her head back and opens her arms while an old ballad from the eighties comes to a crashing crescendo. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me as we spin.

Of all the moments in my life, this is one of the best.

I can already picture myself thinking about this moment a lot through the long tunnel of the years ahead.

And when my life finally ebbs to close, hopefully a hell of a long time from now, I know I’ll be picturing this girl and the ice and the blissful look on her face as I spun her around in my arms.

The hour passes too quickly. Anni leaves the ice with reluctance but cheers up when I promise her we’ll do this again.

Just as we’re returning our skates to the counter, my phone buzzes. I’m in the habit of tensing up whenever there’s an incoming call but I relax when I see that it’s just my brother.

“What’s up?” I say into the phone.

“Hate to cut your evening short,” Cale says, “but I thought you’d want to know there’s a baby on the way.”

“No shit. Are you at the hospital?” I ask and watch my wife’s eyes go wide as she listens in.

“We’re almost there,” Cale says. “Mercy General.”

“We’re on our way,” I say.

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