“Enough talking about work,” Mom says as she places a potato salad on the table. “When are you getting married and settling down, Ryo?”
“I’d rather talk about work,” he replies.
“You’re already thirty-four,” Mom continues. “Your life can’t just revolve around making money. Everyone needs love.”
Ryo walks to Yuki and places his arm around her. “My family gives me all the love I need.”
“Hmpf.” Mom shoots him a scowl. “Yet we only see you every few years.”
His expression is apologetic as he says, “I’ll make an effort to visit more.”
“You better.”
Ryo gives me help-a-brother-out look.
“That’s enough, Mom.” To change the subject, I ask, “At whose place are we spending Christmas this year?”
“Ours,” Dad answers. “And brace yourself for a fuck-ton of gifts for Kai.”
“He’ll only be five months old,” I argue.
“I don’t care,” Mom jumps in. “It will be his first Christmas, and I’m going all out.”
Once the meat is ready, I load it into a serving dish and set it down on the table. “Food’s ready.”
For a few minutes, everyone is quiet as they load their plates. With Yuki holding Kai, I add extra food so she can share with me.
I cut the steak into strips so it’s easy for her, then grab two forks before I sit down beside my wife.
Waiting for Yuki to spear a piece of meat, I smile at my son. “How is it?” I ask after she’s swallowed the bite of food.
“Yummy. Exactly how I like it.”
As we eat, Dad gets a mischievous look and asks, “So when are you having another baby?”
I almost curse at Dad but swallow the words down while shaking my head. “Once Kai is fully trained to pee in a toilet.”
“Jesus, Augusto,” Mom gasps. “That’s give or take four years!”
“Exactly.” I pin Dad with a glare. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Just keeping things interesting, son.”
“No, but seriously, are you going to wait so many years?” Mom asks.
“We’ll have another child when we feel ready,” I say, considering the subject closed.
If it were up to Mom, my poor wife would pop out a baby every year. She lives for her grandchildren.
Kai begins to fuss, and before I can even think to set down my plate so I can take him, Mom darts to her feet. “Come to Grammy, my sweet little boy.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I say, and the instant Yuki’s arms are free, I pass her the plate. “Eat more, my love.”
“You too.” She takes a scoop of potato salad and moans while chewing. “You make the best salad, Mom.”
I shift in my chair, trying to adjust my cock that’s hardening because my wife will never learn not to moan while we’re surrounded by family.
Noticing, she whispers, “Sorry.”
