So I was just standing back to watch the goldfish get placed in the tank.
I’d gotten him two of his Telescopes, a Lionhead, a Ranchu, an Oranda, a Comet, a Black Moore, a Butterfly, and a few regular Fantails in different colors.
Technically, with this tank size, it could hold up to thirty or forty goldfish. But after a ton of research (really, I was a fish expert at this rate) I’d decided to go on the low end. First, so they all had a ton of space to swim around. Second, goldfish were really dirty fish. Which meant it was hard to keep the tank clean, the water balanced, and the fish alive if you overfilled things.
I’d had it installed in Milo’s office at our new house. Mostly because he spent a lot of time there. But also because when we first viewed the house, he’d waved at that very wall and said, “What the hell can we do with that?” because it just looked so odd and out of place in the room.
I figured out what the hell to do with that.
And according to my estimates, Milo would be home in about three hours.
“Happy anniversary,” the fish guy said, handing me my receipt and being led outside by Lucky, who refused to let me meet a single contractor or supplier without his presence when Milo was away.
It was one of the many things to love about the Grassi family. They were insanely protective.
Did they also want to make sure no contractors brought in recording equipment? Sure. But they were always there for you, always ready to step in if you needed a hand.
I’d never seen anything like it.
It had taken a long time to feel like I belonged, like I deserved it. Not because they made me feel that way, but because it just felt so foreign to me.
What had really helped was the women inviting me in. I wasn’t just invited to Sunday dinners. Suddenly, I was an emergency call if someone’s kids were sick at school. I was called on to help everyone get together to make freezer dinners for a family member who was going to have a baby. I put together baskets when someone was sick.
Those acts of service created a sense of belonging. And it had rooted deep. It became a part of me that could never be taken away.
And with that came the loyalty.
I would bleed for these people.
I would die for them. Each and every one of them.
That realization was what helped me fully understand their organization and their family dynamics.
It was no wonder they were as devoted and successful as they were. It was easy to succeed in life with such a wide and supportive safety net.
I felt so blessed to be part of it. Even if it wasn’t legal yet. And I couldn’t wait to bring our children into this family.
What can I say? I had a bit of baby fever after being around all these Grassi kids.
But we still had to do the wedding thing.
Then it was time for the baby thing.
I mean, we’d just finished decorating the house.
And what a house it was.
I turned away from the fish (which were a lot more hypnotic than I thought they would be) and walked out of the study.
The house was way too big for the two of us. But we wouldn’t just be two forever. There was plenty of room for kids to run around playing tag and lots of places to conceal themselves for hide-and-seek.
The lower floor featured a sprawling floor plan. The dining room had a table large enough to seat twenty. The kitchen had two islands, an eat-in table, and a pantry bigger than my old bedroom at my apartment in Atlantic City.
I’d been taking cooking lessons with Adrian and some of the other moms. I didn’t have high hopes of ever being as good as they were, but I hoped to be able to feed my family eventually.
There was a more formal living room, a family room, and a flex space that we figured might become a playroom eventually.
The second floor featured five bedrooms, four baths, and so much closet space that it was almost laughable. But also a selling point for us.
