doesn’t sleep for more than an hour at a stretch. When Michael works nights at the firehouse, Maria stays over and helps Gail. Their exchanges grow testy in the wee hours when exhaustion and the oppressive neediness of the infant conjure moments of pure insanity. They apologize to each other in the mornings and laugh at their lunacies. Reconciled, they savor together the sparse smiles and gurgles and coos given by the reason behind their nocturnal bickering. They mark the progress of his older brother with wonder: the vocabulary, the awareness, the intelligence.
“
Speciale, intelligente
” proclaims Maria about the precocious young Peter. Gail has no way of knowing, no point of comparison. Her firstborn seems bright, but she’s sure every mother thinks that way.
* * *
She gets pregnant a third time, a mere five months after Franky is born. When she miscarries, Maria is the one who drives her to the hospital. Maria is the one who calls Peggy to come watch the two boys. Whenever Gail cries in the months that follow, Maria hugs her and cries with her. Some days, Gail catches Maria crying by herself, dabbing her eyes with her sauce-stained apron. When Gails asks her about it, Maria simply says
nulla,
nothing, and smiles.
Michael is an only child.
One day, that thought floats into Gail’s head while she watches Maria struggle to make it up the front steps.
* * *
More birthday parties are held. Tiny and Peggy buy a brand-new house seven blocks away. Other neighbors drift into their lives: the Grassos, the Landinis, the O’Tooles, the Dales, the Hudecs. Joe Landini is a cop; Sal Grasso is a transit cop. Mike O’Toole is a firefighter. Tom Dale works for sanitation. Terry Hudec is an assistant principal at a school in Bed-Stuy.
None of the wives work, except Jenny O’Toole, who works two days a week at a hairdresser on Hylan Boulevard. There’s always someone to drop in, always someone to watch the kids in a pinch. They all have children as well, mostly young. It’s a good block; when Mrs. Greeley passes away, all the wives take turns dropping in on Mr. Greeley with a tray of food and a six-pack of Schaefer. He complains about the fuss, but he’s too grief stricken and lonely to refuse the hospitality. They were two months away from their forty-seventh wedding anniversary.
“I never ate this good when Sandra was alive. Strictly meat and potatoes in the kitchen, God rest her soul. Where’d a blue-eyed colleen like you learn to cook?”
“My mother-in-law, Sam. I married Michael for his mother’s cooking.”
“Thatta girl. I’ll tell you something.” He beckons her closer with a conspiratorial gesture. “Yours is the best. You got those ginny girls beat on the food.”
“Nice of you to say.”
“But Diana Landini wears them low-cut blouses, so she’s my favorite.”
He winks. She laughs and shakes her finger at him.
* * *
A year later, Gail and Michael are sitting at the kitchen table on a crisp spring morning when they hear a shrill shrieking. They look at each other confused until Diana Landini comes tearing out of the Greeley house and runs across their front lawn. Michael is up and out the door in a flash. Gail watches as he passes Diana and runs into the Greeley house. The quickness of his actions shocks Gail, thrills her. She often forgets that her husband is a man of action.
Diana is out of breath and pallid. Her breasts heave with exertion, threatening to slip out of her blouse. Her dramatic entry frightens Franky, who immediately melts down, and his meltdown, in turn, upsets Peter. Gail tries to calm the three of them. She fetches Diana a glass of water, lifts Franky to her hip, and slips Peter a cracker. Diana finally gets the words out.
“Mr. Greeley, I think he’s . . . I think he’s . . .”
“The kids, D. The kids. It’s okay. I understand.”
Gail looks toward the house. Michael has already seen a bit of death, she knows he has. In Vietnam. In burned-out buildings
“
Speciale, intelligente
” proclaims Maria about the precocious young Peter. Gail has no way of knowing, no point of comparison. Her firstborn seems bright, but she’s sure every mother thinks that way.
* * *
She gets pregnant a third time, a mere five months after Franky is born. When she miscarries, Maria is the one who drives her to the hospital. Maria is the one who calls Peggy to come watch the two boys. Whenever Gail cries in the months that follow, Maria hugs her and cries with her. Some days, Gail catches Maria crying by herself, dabbing her eyes with her sauce-stained apron. When Gails asks her about it, Maria simply says
nulla,
nothing, and smiles.
Michael is an only child.
One day, that thought floats into Gail’s head while she watches Maria struggle to make it up the front steps.
* * *
More birthday parties are held. Tiny and Peggy buy a brand-new house seven blocks away. Other neighbors drift into their lives: the Grassos, the Landinis, the O’Tooles, the Dales, the Hudecs. Joe Landini is a cop; Sal Grasso is a transit cop. Mike O’Toole is a firefighter. Tom Dale works for sanitation. Terry Hudec is an assistant principal at a school in Bed-Stuy.
None of the wives work, except Jenny O’Toole, who works two days a week at a hairdresser on Hylan Boulevard. There’s always someone to drop in, always someone to watch the kids in a pinch. They all have children as well, mostly young. It’s a good block; when Mrs. Greeley passes away, all the wives take turns dropping in on Mr. Greeley with a tray of food and a six-pack of Schaefer. He complains about the fuss, but he’s too grief stricken and lonely to refuse the hospitality. They were two months away from their forty-seventh wedding anniversary.
“I never ate this good when Sandra was alive. Strictly meat and potatoes in the kitchen, God rest her soul. Where’d a blue-eyed colleen like you learn to cook?”
“My mother-in-law, Sam. I married Michael for his mother’s cooking.”
“Thatta girl. I’ll tell you something.” He beckons her closer with a conspiratorial gesture. “Yours is the best. You got those ginny girls beat on the food.”
“Nice of you to say.”
“But Diana Landini wears them low-cut blouses, so she’s my favorite.”
He winks. She laughs and shakes her finger at him.
* * *
A year later, Gail and Michael are sitting at the kitchen table on a crisp spring morning when they hear a shrill shrieking. They look at each other confused until Diana Landini comes tearing out of the Greeley house and runs across their front lawn. Michael is up and out the door in a flash. Gail watches as he passes Diana and runs into the Greeley house. The quickness of his actions shocks Gail, thrills her. She often forgets that her husband is a man of action.
Diana is out of breath and pallid. Her breasts heave with exertion, threatening to slip out of her blouse. Her dramatic entry frightens Franky, who immediately melts down, and his meltdown, in turn, upsets Peter. Gail tries to calm the three of them. She fetches Diana a glass of water, lifts Franky to her hip, and slips Peter a cracker. Diana finally gets the words out.
“Mr. Greeley, I think he’s . . . I think he’s . . .”
“The kids, D. The kids. It’s okay. I understand.”
Gail looks toward the house. Michael has already seen a bit of death, she knows he has. In Vietnam. In burned-out buildings
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