Page 27 of Supernova

"Oh," Allegra says, letting her head loll to one side as she thinks about it. "I suppose I liked your mustache."

Enzo laughs heartily. "My mustache?" he asks. "Okay. And?"

On a sigh, Allegra says: "And I thought you had a good backside."

Frankie's mouth drops open; she's briefly scandalized. "Mama!"

"Oh, you!" Allegra says with a roll of her eyes. "Your father has always had a good rear end."

Frankie puts one hand over her eyes and then knocks back a drink of wine as she listens to their banter.

"Yours isn't so bad either," Enzo says to her, pretending to twist the end of the mustache that he long ago shaved off. "And I fell for your smile, just so you know."

"Awww, my Enzo," Allegra says, her eyes growing soft as she gazes at him. "You're a romantic--always have been."

It's his turn to wave a hand. "I am not. I'm a tough old man. Like a piece of shoe leather."

"Sure, Papa," Frankie says sarcastically, "that's why you cry when your granddaughter shows up for Sunday dinner in her ballet tutu, and how come you always stop to give your change to that old man in the park in Brooklyn."

Enzo's face grows serious. “Okay, then I am half head and half heart. I know when to close off my emotions and get things done, but I know when it's time to let love win."

Frankie hears this, and she knows he's right. "That's true. You are like that."

"I love that you don't yell, Enzo," Allegra says as she looks at him steadily. "Some men, they yell. They shout at their children, they yell at their wives. They rage if dinner isn't ready when theyget home, and they don't know how to talk without raising their voice. But not you."

Enzo looks like he loves their adoration, but he also looks like he's about at his limit for flattery. "You girls," he says as he stands up and tops off his wine glass. "I love you. I have a beautiful family, and it's all because I was blessed with a beautiful wife."

All of a sudden, Frankie feels like she shouldn't be there. A part of her wants to slip from the room and let her parents have their moment together, but another part of her wants to observe, to learn, to soak up their love and to figure out how to be as tender to her own husband. She wants her marriage to have the staying power that her parents' marriage does, and it starts by listening to the way they speak to one another.

The ringing phone cuts into the moment and Frankie stands. "I'll be right back," she says to her parents as her dad sits on the couch with one arm around her mother's shoulders.

"Hello?" Frankie says into the telephone as she stands at the kitchen counter with her wine still in hand. Her parents are talking and laughing again in the other room.

"Am I interrupting a party?" Ed asks over the crackling line.

"Hi, sweetheart." Frankie smiles at the way her husband's voice sends a warm feeling flooding through her veins. "Not a party--that's just my parents. We're having a glass of wine after dinner."

"Wow," Ed laughs, "I had no idea you'd be having such a good time without me."

"Oh, it's not that." Frankie pauses as her mother whoops with laughter. Someone puts on a jazz album in the front room, and she can imagine them cuddling up on the couch, speaking intimately to one another in Italian. "But I am enjoying having them around. I haven't spent this much time with my parents in...years."

"Good, good." Ed sounds distracted. "Listen, Frank. Things are getting really interesting out here."

"How so?" Frankie sits on the stool near the phone and sips her wine. Every time they talk, Ed has something new to tell her about the experiments and trials they're running in Seattle, and she's still waiting for him to tell her he wants to move there--a thought that makes her stomach sink.

"You wouldn't believe the long-term physiological effects of being in space for extended periods of time. Seriously. And the inherent dangers involved--think of all the things that could go wrong! Oxygen tank failure, the lack of gravity, meeting potentially hostile enemies--"

"Wait, are you talking about aliens?" Frankie is on her second glass of wine this evening, but she suddenly feels dizzy. Ed has never mentioned that he believes in aliens.

"No, no--more like organisms in the atmosphere that perhaps we've never been introduced to. There are a lot of unknowns, and trying to account for all of them is exciting, Frank. It feels like important work."

She swallows, looking at her wine glass in hand. "Speaking of important work," she ventures, "I've been thinking of doing something totally crazy, Ed."

He laughs, but it sounds nervous. "Okay, hit me."

Frankie feels weirdly on edge about telling him her plans, but she barrels ahead anyway. "Jo came with me to look at an empty business space in town, and I was thinking of opening up a dance studio."

Ed says nothing, but makes a noise like, "Hmmm."

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