CHAPTER NINE

Tami had just turned on the stove when Eric came in. "We're having leftover stew," she said, "because that's all I have the energy for today." Leftover stew was the surprise symphony that arose when she threw a medley of leftover meat and vegetables into a single pot and whipped up a commiserate broth to pour over it.

"Smells great." He tossed his keys on the counter and kissed Gracie, who was sitting rather precariously on a bar stool, on the top of her head. "Hey, Nugget," he murmured. "Why don't you go get Daddy a beer?"

"Eric!" Tami scolded as Gracie slid off the stool.

"What?" he asked innocently. "She likes to feel useful."

Tami shook her head as Gracie opened the fridge and went, without hesitation or the need for scanning, straight for the spot in the door that housed the beer. As she handed the libation to her father, she asked, "Can I watch G.I. Joe on Wii Netflix 'til dinner's ready?"

"Sure," Eric said, and Gracie disappeared into the living room. "That girl's got good taste in quality children's programming."

"Yeah, you'll be singing a different tune when she enlists at eighteen. You know she said she wants a bazooka for Christmas?"

"That's my girl."

"A real bazooka. And a real tank." Tami went to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of Chardonnay. Matt and Julie and Shelley had days ago cleared out of the house and headed to their separate homes, and by now she was back deep into the grind of work. "Will you get me a glass?" she asked. "I need some right now."

"You know, babe, when you cook with wine…at least some is supposed to actually get in the recipe."

She glared at him.

"Bad day?" he asked as he pulled a wine glass out of the cupboard and handed it to her.

She put the glass on the counter and grabbed the corkscrew out of a drawer. "Yeah, well, it's kind of insulting when a college boy whistles at me in the hallway of one of our most dignified buildings and the President, who's standing right there beside me, just laughs." She pushed down on the rabbit ears of the corkscrew and popped the cork free from the bottle. "That wouldn't have happened in Dillon."

"It didn't happen in Dillon. That doesn't mean it wouldn't. Are you even aware of how sexy you are?"

"I'm in my forties, hon."

"Well you don't look a day over thirty-nine," he assured her. And you're the hottest woman at Braemore."

"Don't defend him."

"The student or the President?"

"It's Carl I'm mad at. He's the President! He should have said something!"

His arms slipped around her. "You should be President," he said. He kissed the back of her neck and she murmured and leaned back.

"I cooked. You're doing the dishes," she told him.

"You're making sure Gracie takes her shower and brushes her teeth."

"You're reading to her tonight," she said.

"You're rubbing my neck later."

"You're massaging my shoulders."

He chuckled and kissed the side of her neck. "I'll massage anything you want, Dean Taylor."

She laughed and squirmed away, and, in the same fluid motion, lifted the now ringing kitchen phone off of its receiver. "Hello?"

Eric poured her a glass of wine while she talked.

"Hey, Julie babe, how are you feeling?" Tami nodded her thanks and took the Chardonnay her husband was handing her. "Yeah," she said, and took a sip. "Oh?"

Eric stood with his palms flat down on the counter and watched Tami talk. "Well, if you're craving meat, you probably need the iron. Just eat the meat. There's no shame in it. Or eat more leafy greens if you really can't bring yourself to enjoy a dead cow." Eric smirked. He went and turned down the stove (the stew was now almost boiling over) and then came and stood at the kitchen bar next to Tami. "You need to toss that book in the trash, Julie," Tami was insisting. "It can make you insane."

Eric raised an eyebrow in question. Tami covered the mouthpiece of the phone and said, "What to Expect When You're Expecting," Then she uncovered it and went back to talking to Julie. "I read a version of that when I was pregnant with Gracie. I'm sure it's been updated, but if it's anything like the old version, you need to throw it in the trash. You really don't need an indexed catalog of everything that can possibly go wrong but probably won't. Just have a cup of coffee every now and then." She paused a while longer, said a few more uh-huhs, and then, "So, what are our family plans for Christmas?" She paused just long enough for Julie's answer. "You want to talk to your father?"

"Don't sound so surprised," Eric insisted. "Of course she wants to talk to her father." He plucked the phone from her hand and Tami started making the final preparations for dinner. "Hey, Monkey Noodle." Eric gave Tami a self-satisfied look as she opened a cabinet. "Are you in need of some sage, fatherly advice?" Both his wife and daughter snorted at the same time.

"No, Dad," Julie said, still half laughing. "I was just calling to wish you luck at State. It's this coming Friday, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, good luck," his daughter said.

"We don't need luck. We need about an extra 400 pounds on our defensive line."

"Is this the team that beat you by 28 points last time?"

"Grant. Yeah. That would be the one."

He could hear the smile in her voice as she said, "Sorry I can't be there to see you win."

"Yeah, well, you aren't traveling anywhere for a while. You probably shouldn't have travelled for Thanksgiving. You're not supposed to fly when you're pregnant, right?"

"What do you know about pregnancy?" Julie asked.

"I did some reading when your mother had Gracie."

"But not when she had me? You left it all up to her that time, huh? Got enlightened somewhere in between?"

Eric smiled and stepped out of Tami's way as she nudged him on her way to fetch a large spoon. As she passed, she whispered, "Ask her about Christmas plans."

"Seriously," Eric said, "I thought you weren't supposed to fly."

"I checked with my doctor first. She didn't seem too concerned. But…I'm not going to push it either, which is why I need to tell you guys we're not coming for Christmas. And I know you guys don't want to pay for three plane tickets and a hotel, which you'd have to do, because we have no room here."

"We'll get a hotel. It's fine. We have the money, Julie."

"Really, it's okay, Dad. You don't have to come."

"Do you not want us to come?"

Tami, who was by now stirring the stew, dropped the spoon and whirled around to face Eric. She put a hand on one hip.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "It's just…" Julie said. "Matt and I talked about it…and this year we really just want a quiet Christmas at home alone in Chicago. Besides, Landry's coming."

"You realize this will be the first Christmas we don't spend together?" When Eric said this, Tami's eyes opened in alarm. What? she mouthed at him. He shrugged.

"Yeah. I know," Julie said. "But it's more important for us all to spend holidays together after the baby is born. Listen, Dad, I've got to go."

"You want to talk to your mama again?"

"I'll call her later. Matt just came in and we're already late for dinner at friend's house. I've got to go."

Before he could even say goodbye, she had hung up.

"What's this about Christmas?" Tami asked in that high tone that communicated that she was not pleased.

Eric shrugged again. "Our daughter doesn't want to spend Christmas with us. What can you do? She wants to spend it with Lance instead."

"Landry?"

"What the hell kind of name is that?" he asked. "Why can't people just give their children normal names? Like Julie and Grace?"