Hardbingers

3

Gia sat in the Sutton Square house kitchen and stared at Jack. She'd held back her tears as long as she could, but finally they began to flow.

"It's true? It's really going to happen?"

Jack nodded. "Seems that way. Still some details to be ironed out, but we should be able to tie the knot early February."

They sat across the table in the old-fashioned kitchen. Even though she and Vicky had been living here for almost a year and a half, Gia refrained from calling it her kitchen. Legally, the tony townhouse still belonged to Vicky's aunts, but Nellie and Grace were never coming back. In a few years it would be Vicky's, but until then…

She looked down at her cooling cup of tea as she felt a sob building. She'd been on an emotional roller coaster since the start of her third trimester—up, down, happy, sad, energetic, exhausted in rapid succession, occasionally all at the same time. And that growing sob… she bit it back but it broke free.

Jack reached across the table and grabbed her hand.

"What's wrong, Gi? I thought you—"

"Nothing's wrong. Absolutely nothing. Except that I've turned your whole life upside down."

"No, you—"

"Go ahead. You can say it. If I hadn't been careless with my pills that one month, you wouldn't have to go to all this trouble. You'd still be doing your fix-its and leading your life the same way as before."

She'd never been guilt-prone, but now she was drowning in it. Jack had said he was going to find a way to change his life for the baby. And though he always kept his word, the idea had remained an abstraction until this morning.

"Oh," he said. "And I had nothing to do with the baby, I suppose?"

"Well, sure you did, but—"

"No buts. The past is past, the baby is now. He wasn't planned—"

Gia couldn't help it. "She."

"Let me rephrase: The baby wasn't planned, right, but we haven't been pointing fingers because there's no one to point to. So don't go pointing a finger at yourself. Things are what they are. We deal with it. End of story."

Gia agreed in principle, but couldn't get past the enormity of jack's sacrifice.

He rose and took the seat next to her, then drew her onto his lap.

"Look." He slipped his arms around her. "Here's the way I see it. I've always known I couldn't keep up the Repairman Jack thing forever. It's not the kind of scene you can play indefinitely. I mean, can you see me wearing Depends while I'm meeting customers in Julio's?"

Gia laughed through her tears. "That's taking things to extremes, don't you think? Just a little?"

"Maybe, but the thing is, I've had a good run, and a lot of good luck. I've made a nice piece of change. At some time in the not-too-distant future I was going to have to call it quits anywray. So why not now? Why not quit wrhile I'm ahead… before I slip up and regret it? Opt to go out upright, under my own steam."

It made a lot of sense, but didn't ring quite true. Jack was giving up the cherished, under-the-radar lifestyle he'd worked at all his adult life. He might in time convince himself that it had been the smart thing to do, the best thing to do, but she knew it was costing him dearly.

Which reminded her of why she loved this strange, driven man.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed.

"I feel as if I'm robbing the world of something unique and precious."

"You're doing nothing of the sort. I'm a grown-up and this is my decision. I don't have to tell you I wish we had a different system—in a lot of ways—but this is the one we're stuck with. My approach has painted me into a corner that won't allow me to claim paternity. I can't change the system so, for the baby's sake, I've got to adapt."

She hugged him tighter.

"I wish there was an easier way- I hate the thought of you sneaking into a foreign country—Yugoslavia of all places."

"Yugoslavia is no more. It's Bosnia-Hurtstogoweewee now."

"Whatever it's called, I'm worried."

"You always worry about me."

"Yes, I know. But at least here in New York you're on your home turf—you own this city. It's your playground. You know all the rules. But a foreign country… where you don't even speak the language…" She tightened her grip. "I hate it. If anything happens to you…"

He gave her a squeeze. "Nothing's going to happen. In a week or so you're going to have a foreign houseguest with a funny name."

"What was that name again?"

"Mirko Abdic."

"That's got to go. We don't want to saddle our little girl with a name like Emma Abdic."

"You mean Jack Abdic. Or maybe we could go for Arnold Abdic."

"That's not even funny," she said, but laughed anyway.

It felt good to laugh. She just hoped they'd have something to laugh about when all this was over.