Bertrice Small - Sudden Pleasures

"Probably a lump of coal." He grinned. Reaching in, he pulled out a narrow rectangular box all beautifully gift wrapped. Carefully he pulled the paper off of it. Probably a new watch, he thought. Lifting the box lid and then the tissue, he stared down, confused, at the plastic rectangle with the pink plus sign. "What is it?" he asked her.

"A pregnancy test kit I took the other day," she said softly.

Ryan's mouth dropped open. He stared down at the pink plus, and then he looked up at Ashley. A smile suddenly split his handsome face. "We're going to have a baby?" he said in a husky voice.

"We're going to have a baby," Ashley told him, smiling back.

"When?"

"Sometime next August," she told him. "I think it was that mirror in the canopy above the bed in Venice that did it," Ashley teased him.

"We gotta get married," he said. "Right away!"

"We are married," she reminded him.

"Not in the eyes of the Church," he told her nervously.

"If it will make you happy, then fine," Ashley agreed. "But it has to be with your priest and mine, Ryan."

"No argument," he replied. "But right after the holiday, okay?"

"Fine," she told him. "I'd like to tell your family today after dinner."

He nodded. "Ma will be so pleased, especially since we're going to get married now."

"We are married, you dumb Eyetie-Mick!" she insisted. "It's legal."

"Yeah, yeah, okay, but not without the Church's blessing. Bear with me on this one. I can't help the way I was raised," Ryan said.

Ashley laughed. "I like the way you was raised," she teased him.

They finished their coffee, dressed, and went downstairs to greet their guests.

Byrnes had laid out a breakfast buffet on the library table in the living room. After a good night's sleep and a lot of rather excellent food, the five elder Mulcahy sisters were leaning toward acceptance of their new sister-in-law. Outrageous promises from their husbands had helped to cool their disappointment over losing the monies they had hoped to gain from selling R &R. They exchanged gifts with one another, their youngest sister, nephew, mother, brother, and Ashley.

"They're actually laughing," Frankie's son, Michael, whispered to his mother. "I never saw your sisters laugh so much."

"Scary, isn't it?" Frankie murmured back.

"Behave yourselves, the pair of you," Angelina scolded softly.

"Sorry, Nonna ," Michael replied.

At four o'clock in the afternoon Christmas dinner was served.

"I wasn't certain what your traditions were," Ashley apologized, "and so I asked Mrs. B. to do prime rib, which my family has always served, a ham, and a turkey." She noted that most of her guests took a little of everything, and realized that she had just begun a new tradition. There were potatoes done about the beef, a sweet-potato casserole, and mashed potatoes, along with French-cut green beans, mashed turnips, creamed onions, and a fruit salad. There were freshly baked rolls, butter, and cranberry and horseradish sauce.

"Where do you get such fresh beans?" Magdalena wanted to know.

"We have a small greenhouse where we grow them, along with peas, lettuces, radishes, carrots, spinach, and baby beets in the winter. We tried growing tomatoes, but it's a small greenhouse, and we haven't room to heat it enough. We pick the beans young."

"It's like being in your own little private world," Kathleen put in. "Is there any crime out here?"

"A little," Ashley said. "Egret Pointe isn't paradise, but it's as close as you can get to it, I think. Most of the crime is kid stuff, and when you live in a small town like this you get found out pretty fast. Everybody knows who you are, who your parents and family are, and what you did."

"Drugs?" Kevin McGuire asked.

"The kids get what they want, but they aren't getting it in the village. It's probably at the nearby mall," Ashley said.

When they had finished dinner, which concluded with Ashley's homemade plum pudding, mince and apple pies, and an ice-cream bombe created from chocolate, vanilla, and raspberry sherbert, along with coffee and tea, they returned to the living room, where the tree's glow reflected itself in the window, and the fire crackled. Ashley went to the library table, now set with a tray of liqueurs, and offered her guests an after-dinner drink.

"That's a beautiful engagement ring you're wearing," Bride noted.

"Ryan had it made for me in Venice when we were there last month," Ashley said proudly. "He gave it to me on my birthday. And I got this necklace for Christmas." She held up the gold chain with the ruby heart.

"Did you like Venice?" Elisabetta asked.

"Very much," Ashley responded. "We stayed with the Contessa di Viscontini in her palazzo. It's gorgeous, and she was so nice to us. Ryan is restoring a family piece that she found in an Austrian village shop."

"I think you're very broad-minded," Deirdre said softly.

"Why on earth would you say that?" Ashley asked her.

"Staying with your husband's former mistress," Deirdre replied. "I'm afraid I couldn't be that sophisticated, Ashley." She smiled a small smile.

The room had grown deathly silent, but before Ashley could even consider what she could possibly say to her sister-in-law, Ryan was on his feet.

"Bianca di Viscontini was never my mistress," he shouted. "Jesus, Dee, I was sixteen the last time I saw her. I haven't seen or spoken with her in twenty-three years!"

"You fucked her, Ryan," Deirdre said calmly. "All summer long that year."

"Deirdre Mary Mulcahy!" Angelina exclaimed. "I don't want to hear language like that coming out of your mouth ever again. How dare you! And in front of your nephew to boot. Apologize to Ryan and his wife at once!"

"Why? Are you going to pretend it didn't happen, Ma?" Deirdre asked.

"The contessa seduced your brother that summer. She should not have done such a thing, but sometimes women do things they should not. She apologized, and sooner or later your brother was going to gain carnal knowledge. If the truth be known, and God only knows I never thought I should say this aloud, but if your brother was to know a woman-and I knew he wasn't going to be a priest-I am just as glad it was Bianca di Viscontini who initiated him. Italian women know how to love and be loved. But she was hardly Ryan's mistress, and as soon as you came and told me what was going on we left Venice." Angelina's color was high with a mixture of distress and anger.

Ryan was obviously furious. "Why the hell did you bring this up now?" he demanded of his sister. "Is it impossible for the Mulcahy sisters to get through a family gathering without starting a riot?"

"I told you that one day I would get back at you for Carlo," Deirdre said.

"Uncle Ryan had a mistress when he was sixteen?" young Michael O'Connor said admiringly. "How cool is that? Just wait till I tell the guys in my dorm."

Frankie began to giggle, and even the withering look her mother sent her couldn't stop her laughter.

"Who the hell is Carlo?" Ryan wanted to know. "And what the hell did I do to him? You are off your nut, Dee. You need serious help."

"You don't even remember, do you?" Deirdre said dramatically. "Carlo Fabiano was the love of my life, and you told Dad some filthy lies about him. If you hadn't I wouldn't have told Ma about you and the contessa. We wouldn't have left Venice! Maybe I would have never left Venice."

"Are you talking about the slimeball you dated that summer? The one who had bets all over Venice with his friends on how long it would take him to get into your pants?" Ryan snapped at his older sister, astounded. "I saved your stupid butt, sis."

"I didn't believe that story you told Dad then, and I don't believe it now. Carlo loved me. He wanted to marry me," Deirdre said angrily.