Family Love

“That boy,” Lindsay said. “I don’t know what to do with him most days. Anton thinks he can whup the bad out of him, but it only seems to make him worse.”

They made the kids hot dogs on the stove and corn on the cob from Lindsay’s store of frozen vegetables. They were satisfied for about an hour after that, sprawled on the living room floor next to the crackling “campfire” in the fireplace, while Sesame Street played on videotapes Lindsay found at the secondhand bookstore. Then Dom threw his half-eaten corncob at Aiden, calling him a baby for not eating the bun of his hot dog, hitting him square in the eye, and sending him squalling into the kitchen once more.

“Let’s have a little separation time,” she said, picking her youngest boy up and loving the feel of his arms clasping her neck. She got him settled for a nap, the book she’d read him still clutched to his chest. Maria

Lindsay put a tray in the oven, and soon the whole house smelled of chocolate chip cookies. Rosie and Antony took turns bossing the other kids through the game for a while, but Lindsay could sense that Dominic was getting too antsy to stay indoors much longer. Moments before she suggested the kids blow off steam in the bottom basement with the little indoor basketball hoop, the front door flew open, sending wind-blown swirls of snow into the lower foyer.

“Daddy!” Kieran shouted, and ran for his snow-coated father. Anton caught him, put him up on his shoulders and headed up to where the others were squabbling over whose turn it was to spin the wheel on the Twister game.

“Who wants to build a snowman?” he called out. The kids cheered and started shouting out ideas for clothes and decorations. Lindsay hauled out the snow gear, putting extra layers of Antony’s clothes on Paul and Rosie. She joined them once she and her friends were bundled up, just in time to catch a snowball to her shoulder.

“Look out, Mama!” Kieran called, ever her protector. She laughed and ducked around the corner, managing to nail Antony in the butt with one and Anton in the face with another. The snow was light and airy, so the balls didn’t pack much punch, which was a good thing, considering Dominic had deadly aim and hit everyone except the grownups in the face with his.

An hour later, the six or so inches of snow had increased to almost ten. They commandeered the trashcan lids, and Anton led an expedition to find a good hill in the neighborhood. Lindsay and the other moms demurred. When Anton grabbed her as she tromped by in the near-whiteout conditions and planted a cold-lipped kiss on hers, she’d pushed him away playfully. “Don’t you get my babies hurt, Anton Love.”

“No ma’am,” he said.

“No ma’am,” Antony parroted, glancing up for his father’s approval.

The women cleaned up the living room, and righted all the furniture, but left the tents up in case her boys wanted to sleep in them tonight. An hour later everyone returned, teeth chattering, fingers and toes freezing. Anton entered last, carrying Aiden, who was covering his left eye and sniveling.

“Dominic,” Anton muttered under his breath, shooting that son an evil eye worthy of Lindsay’s mother-in-law. “Damn kid.”

“Swear jar, Daddy,” Kieran said, shoving Dominic to the floor so hard the kid yelped—a first for him, she figured—before ru

By about nine o’clock, the boys were passed out in their beds, Anton having vetoed the tent-sleeping plan, saying he wanted to watch the basketball game in peace and didn’t want the boys up that late. Lindsay was stretched out on the couch when Anton came down the steps from Dominic’s room after tucking him in-slash-warning him not to get up again. “That boy terrifies me, Linds.”

“I know, honey.” She was exhausted, but in a good way. “Would you take that game downstairs and bring me the clean clothes basket, please? I’ll fold while the game’s on.”

He leaned over and kissed her, grabbing her boob by way of gauging her interest. She let him, although she wasn’t sure what her interest level was at the moment. Four active boys in the house equaled very little private time for them lately. It’d been at least a month since they’d had more than quick, take-the-edge-off, middle-of-the-night, half-asleep sex.

He grabbed the Twister box and headed to the bottom basement, whistling the Wildcat fight song. Lindsay drifted, mesmerized by the dancing flames. When she blinked she realized she must have dozed and someone was calling her name. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, trying to figure out what time it was and why Anton hadn’t returned with the clothes basket and wasn’t in his chair, holding a beer and cursing the officials and coaches.

“Lindsay,” he called again. His voice had a strange edge that made her jump up and run to the basement, afraid he’d fallen or had a heart attack or something. The basement was dark, but a light shone in the laundry room. When she found him, he was leaning against the dryer, a sheet of paper and something else she didn’t immediately recognize in his hands. Her eyes flew to the cigar box on the washing machine. It must have gotten knocked to the floor when Antony was getting the game earlier.

“I don’t know what this is,” he said, his voice ominously low and brandishing the computer printout with her notes about blood types. “But I sure as hell know what this is.” He threw the Stockyards Bank bankbook at her. It smacked her chest and dropped to the floor, lying between them, opened to the page where she’d tucked the initial printed deposit receipt. “And you were going to tell me about this, when, exactly?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. His brown eyes glittered with fury. She stiffened and picked up the bankbook, mind spi

“The first day,” he said, slowly. “That weekend you took off out of here like a bat out of hell, leaving my sons at your friends’ house and not answering me when I called Kathy’s number a million times. That first day?”

She put her hands on her hips, deciding to play the one card she’d kept tucked away for the past two and a half years. “Why, yes, Anton that would be the first day I had access to the money my family left me. I decided to accept it after I was privileged to watch you get your dick sucked by that whore, Isabella Josefi. In our brewery no less.”

Anton’s mouth dropped open.

She clenched her jaw, trying to figure out a way to make him believe that she honestly had not touched the money, and had every intention of using it for the boys’ college educations … something they would never, ever be able to afford otherwise.

“I’m … Isabella … it’s …”

Lindsay held up a hand. “No, I don’t need explanations. I know you fired her when I asked you to. Of course, what I don’t know is how many times you fucked her before I caught you, and if she’s still sneaking into the brewery, angling to take you from me.”

Anton’s brow furrowed. The paper with the cold, hard facts of what else she’d done that weekend crumpled in his closed fist.

He swallowed. She waited.

“I’m sorry for that. It was wrong and I know it was and I …”