“Were you at Suzette’s house today?”
I ask Enzo the question as casually as possible while he’s brushing his teeth. If I’m trying not to seem like a jealous wife, during the toothbrushing process seems like a good time to bring it up. It doesn’t get more casual than that, right?
He glances at me, pausing mid-brush. He waits a beat, then he starts scrubbing his teeth again. “Yes. I was helping in her yard. Showing her gardening tips. Like I said I would.”
“You didn’t tell me you were going over there.” “Is it important I always tell you where I go?”
He spits toothpaste into the sink. I think of all the times he has watched me spit toothpaste into the sink—too many to count. And then I think of all the times he has watched Suzette spit toothpaste into the sink—never.
“It would be nice,” I say, “if you tell me where you go on the weekend. Isn’t that supposed to be family time? Isn’t that what you always say?”
He gives me an exasperated look. “Millie, this is a job. We need money—badly. What do you want?”
“Is she paying you?”
He doesn’t answer. Which means the answer is no.
“So you went over there on a Sunday. And she didn’t pay you. How is that a job?”
Enzo rinses his mouth out, then spits in the sink again, more aggressively this time. When he looks up, he does not seem pleased. “Millie, she already got me two new jobs. She is helping me. She is helping us.” He waves his arms around. “How do you think we are supposed to pay for this house?”
It’s an extremely fair point. Building a business is all about word of mouth. And Suzette can help with word of mouth.
His shoulders sag. “Look, I am sorry I did not tell you where I went. But you were doing the play-dating with Nico. And Ada always just wants to read. So I thought this is a good time to go over there because nobody needs me.”
Again, he’s right. Everything Enzo is saying is a hundred percent right. And as hard as he works, Enzo has always been around for our family. He used to participate in tea parties with Ada and her stuffed animals when she was little. Even I couldn’t bear those boring teddy bear tea parties, but he sat through a million of them. He used to do different silly voices for the bears, although all the voices had an Italian accent.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I know you’re just trying to build your business. I didn’t mean to give you a hard time.”
He smiles at me. “It is a little cute when you are jealous. You are never jealous.”
It’s funny because it’s true. Women hit on him all the time, but I’ve always trusted him. I don’t know why Suzette manages to push my buttons the way she does. Especially since she’s married, so it’s not like she expects him to run off with her.
“I am sorry,” he says. “You forgive me?”
I don’t answer right away, so he comes closer to me and then kisses me with his minty fresh breath. Predictably, the last residues of my anger melt away. I’m terrible at staying mad at him.
“Mom! Dad!” a voice shouts through the door. “Little Kiwi is molting!
You gotta see it! Come quick!”
There is literally nothing that kills romance quicker than being told that a praying mantis is molting in your house. Enzo and I exchange looks.
“Later, Nico!” Enzo calls out. “I am talking to your mom. We are having important conversation. I will see later, okay?”
But Nico is not to be put off. “When?” he calls through the door.
Enzo sighs, recognizing the potential for sexy time is over. “Just a minute.” He winks at me. “You want to see the molting?”
“I’ll pass, thanks.”
“But ” He glances at the bedroom door, then back at me. “We are good?”
I only hesitate for a moment. “Yes.”
“From now on,” he says, “I will tell you when I go over to Suzette’s house. I give you my promise.”
“You don’t have to,” I say quickly. “I trust you.” And I do. I trust him completely.
But I don’t trust Suzette.
