I knew.
I smiled at him.
He winked at me and then turned with the cutting board todump the veggies in a pot of boiling water on the stove.
We sat in the four armchairs in the Reserve, Toniacross from me, Tony across from Darius.
The table between the chairs had a board covered withcheeses and cured meats and olives and nuts and fruit.
I held a glass of an exceptional red in my hand.
Toni decided tonight, like many nights, was a martini night.
Tony and Darius were talking about something.Sports.Current events.I didn’t know.
I didn’t care.
I loved that they got along.That they could carry on aconversation without their women, like we could do the same.
Toni’s eyes came to me, and I read in them what I felt inthe hug she’d given me outside Fortnum’s a few months ago.
I got it.I lived it.
My happy-goodness cloud never went away, and I knew now itnever would.
“Daddy!”Talia shouted from the door.
I twisted to look around my chair at her.
She seemed peeved about something.
She didn’t make us wait to share what that was about.
“Liam is cheating!”she accused.
“I am not!”Liam yelled from the lounge in the other room.
“Liam isn’t a cheater, baby,” Tony said.
She glared at him, then shifted targets.
She walked to Darius, put her hand on his forearm, turnedher ankle, looked up at him with wounded doe eyes, and pouted, “Uncle Darius,Liam keeps winning at the TV games.”
Instantly, Darius pushed out of his chair.“All right,sweetheart.Let’s go have a chat with him.”
She smiled a gleeful smile, took his hand, and they walkedout.
“When you give him another kid, you are gonna be in a worldof hurt,” Toni warned.
“I already know that,” I said blithely, then took a sip ofmy wine.
And I did know it.
I just didn’t care.
“You see it?”
“Shoosh, I see it.”
