Free Ready for You by Celia Juliano Page B

across the street. She stared. It was really him. The plate she held clattered into the sink. She opened her mouth to call to him, but Phil’s Dodger blue Prius whipped a turn into the driveway. She turned off the water then stood motionless. Rocco stopped too, staring at where Phil’s car was.
     
    “Daddy!” the boys shouted. They usually heard his car pull in and watched from the living room window as Phil came into the house.
     
    Rocco started to walk across the street. Chiara gripped the edge of the counter and pressed her stomach into the unyielding tile. The front door opened and Rocco stopped. He watched for a moment before he turned and walked away, down the street, as the boys clamored for Phil’s attention, like they did every evening. She let out her breath. She hadn’t been able to see Rocco’s expression clearly but she believed he looked determined. Oh God.
     
    “How was your day?” Phil said when he came into the kitchen, the boys following. Phil kissed her cheek.
     
    “Fine, thanks, and you? Boys, set the table, please.”
     
    “Good. Suzy and I had lunch. We made progress on how to tackle those new accounts.”
     
    New accounts? She went into a stupor whenever Phil talked business. “That’s nice,” she said. Rocco was right. She twisted the dishtowel in her hand. Except she doubted Phil and Suzy had kissed, much less pawed each other like two teenagers. Chiara licked her lips then pressed them together.
     
    “Do I have time to change before dinner?” Phil said.
     
    “Sure,” she said. For a second, she imagined some magical change, transforming him into Rocco. Lust, that’s all it was. Lust was clouding her judgement. “Thanks boys,” she said as Max and Danny finished putting out the silverware. She peeked in the oven. Everything was ready.
     
    An hour later, Chiara scrubbed the pans in the sink, plenty of sudsy too-hot water scorching her hands through her blue rubber gloves. She gritted her teeth, remembering how Phil reacted just as she thought he would at dinner. Now he ate a snack of spicy nuts and beer in his leather recliner while the boys watched “Where the Wild Things Are.” Chiara hated that chair. She hated looking at the bald spot on Phil’s head as he bent over his dinner. She hated his protruding gut pooching over his belt as he stretched. She hated his false thanks for dinner. She hated being married to him.
     
    She tried to look out the window, but she couldn’t see anything. A light breeze ruffled the edge of the curtain, as gently as the way Rocco had touched her cheek after dinner at his house that night. She inhaled. She was grateful someone wanted her. She was grateful for her boys. She was grateful for her health. She was grateful Phil was a decent man, a good father. She blew the breath slowly out. Time to get the boys ready for bed.
     
    Danny was cranky and it took twice as long as usual to get them settled into their bunk beds. She brushed back her hair and trudged into the living room. Phil glanced up from his computer and unplugged an earphone.
     
    “Everything okay?”
     
    “Yeah,” she said. “ You watching something?”
     
    “A movie. You want to join me?”
     
    She shook her head and plopped into the chair at her desk, an old oak roll top. She pulled out a notebook and pen and wrote.
     
    Two hours later, Phil snapped shut his computer. “I’m going to bed. Are you coming?”
     
    “Not yet, goodnight.”
     
    He raised his hand and walked into the hall. She closed her notebook and stowed it in a drawer. She stood and stretched. She probably should keep those notebooks locked up. If her mom came over, she might find them. Sometimes her mom pretended to help clean when really she was being nosy.
     
    Her purse hung on the hook. She rifled in it to find her phone. She often forgot to turn it off. It rang and she searched frantically, hope swelling that it was Rocco. It was.
     
    “I saw you,” she said without any polite