Always with the tough questions this one... did we do the right thing? I
don't know... I mean... I was so convinced at first. I mean... same name, same
look... they HAD to be brothers right? But now... I look at their faces, the
confusion and yes, the pain, I want to take it all back. I wish I'd never
forced this.
"I don't know anymore."
I look at Rob and Jean-Claude, their heads, hers with his long hair, mine
with the slightly shorter hair, together, bent over the documents... over
the sheet that matters the most.
"That's your date of birth?" Rob asks.
"Yeah."
Jean-Claude is quick to take out his wallet and show his driver's license. The tension gets thicker... makes me woozy.
"That birthmark... is that for real?"
Jean-Claude looks over at me. I nod to him. And slowly, he undoes his
shirt. I cover Carm's eyes. She's a horny little thing and I don't want
her eyeing my husband. Especially when I know how she likes to check out
his ass. He slides his left arm out of the sleeves and lifts it. Rob leans
over and looks at the birthmark. He stands back and shakes his head when
he sees my hand over my sister's eyes.
"What's that about?" he asks.
"She likes to check out my husband's ass. I'm making sure she can't check
out the rest of him."
"Is that true?"
"Honey," Carm explains, still trying to pull my hand away, "it's not my
fault."
"That you like Jean-Claude's ass?"
"Well, so what? It's a fine ass... but it's not as good as yours."
"Hey, my husband's ass is just as good, if not better than yours."
By then, Jean-Claude's shirt is back on so I take my hand off her eyes. I
stare her down.
"It is not!"
"It so is!"
Jean-Claude comes over, smiling, shaking his head. He looks at Rob, who's
still in shock over the topic of our argument.
"Promise me one thing, Robert."
"Call me Rob."
"Fine. Rob... now, you and I... if we turn out to be brothers, we will never
argue like this."
"Are you telling me that's what normal siblings do?"
"That's what I've seen and heard."
"Fine... you have my word... But Jean-Claude..."
"What?"
"Your wife does have fine legs."
Jean-Claude laughs at that one and I turn to Rob, all smiles.
"Thank you so much."
"But you told me that I had great legs Robby," Carm whines.
"They are great legs... but Katia's legs are just... you know."
"He's right you know," Jean-Claude agrees.
"Don't you mind this?" she asks him, punching his arm, "your brother's
checking out your wife!"
Without realizing it, Carm's said it. She broke the ice. Rob and
Jean-Claude stop and look at each other and a smile, the same smile,
creeps up to their lips.
"My brother," Jean-Claude pauses, smiles at us, "has great taste. In legs
and in women."
Oh shit. I want to cry again.
"Now," Jean-Claude says, tucking Carm's arm into the crook of his elbow,
"how badly did you butcher this meal?"
Listen to him! How badly did I butcher the meal. Ha!
"Just for your information, I did a fantabulous job."
"And you come up with these bizarre words... how?"
"Don't make fun of me."
"I am merely asking a question."
"You're making fun of me."
"Si tu insistes."
I just growl at him and pull my arm away, heading into the kitchen to
bring out the food. As I take a seat after setting up the broiled chicken,
marinated in an Italian sauce and covered in mozzarella, the pasta and
sauce and the garlic bread, I look at the others.
"Now, if you don't mind," I say, taking Robbie's hand. "I want to make a
bit of a toast." I look at Kat as I stand, Merlot in hand, glass raised high.
"To Rob and JC... Robbie finally gets to realize how annoying my sister's
husband is and..." I take a deep breath before continuing, softly, "...and we
get one more piece of blood family to be at our wedding. That makes what,
three with dad, right?"
I try to smile then sit back down. Well, that was wonderful. It started
off funny. Oh well... I look up at the others and they're all staring at me.
"Don't stare," I tell them. "Eat up. Kit Kat, you're eating for two. So...
that means eat plenty before your husband eats all of the food."
I take a plate, taking some off before passing it around the table, not
looking up. Yes, I managed to spoil a perfectly fine mood. Yay for me. I
told her she should have cooked.
I look at Carm and wink at her. I know what she's getting at. I take the
first bite and god damn it!
"Carm, this is good."
"I have to agree with my wife here. This food is not completely awful."
"Funny man," Carm smirks.
"He's right honey," Rob agrees, "they both are. This is great!"
"Thank you."
"I told you she could cook," I say proudly.
"Ha! You told me to cater."
"Well..." I stick my tongue out at her... the kid's getting lippy. Rob is
about to top off my wine but Jean-Claude stops him.
"You are pregnant," he reminds me gently.
"A glass won't hurt," Rob says, pushing his brother's hand aside. "And
besides we're celebrating."
"All right," Jean-Claude says with a tight smile, "but this is your last
one. After that, a fruit juice will be just fine. for both of us."
I see Carm roll up her eyes. I tighten my hand on Jean-Claude's knee.
"Baby," I remind him, "I'm pregnant, not an invalid. And there's nothing
wrong with me partaking in a glass of wine every once in a while."
"All right."
Jean-Claude lays a gentle kiss on my jaw and puts his hand over my
stomach, looking grave. I know he's thinking about his other three kids,
about the fact that he can't be a permanent father to them because of his
relationship with their mothers. I sigh.
"You're with me for the long haul," I tell him, "and you'll be with this
kid for the long haul too. I promise."
I look up at Rob and Carm who are pretending not to listen. Then I
realize.
"Rob, you're going to have to meet your niece and your nephews."
"It's true. The kids... wait until I tell them who their uncle is... they are
going to love you."
"More than you?" Rob asks.
"Do not be ridiculous."
"Of course more than their frog father," Carm pipes in. "I mean, all the
things JC can't do, Rob can do."
"And what won't my husband be able to do with his children?"
"I don't know... young people things."
"That's why they have me," I explain to my now annoying sister.
"Well, it's not like you're getting any younger Kat."
"Do you want me to beat you up kid? Cause I will. And I won't care."
"You two are so violent," Jean-Claude remarks as he goes for seconds.
"And we like it that way," I inform him. "Right Carm?"
"We love it that way," I say with a smile. "We thrive on brutality. Why
else would I choose to work at ECW?"
"Is it that brutal?" Jean-Claude asks me. I can't help it. I burst out in
laughter. "You've never seen one of our shows have you?"
"The only fake violence I can stand is in the movies."
With my hand on his leg, I can feel Rob's body tightening. Pet peeve of
both of ours, but he takes it more to heart. I squeeze his thigh and
whisper, "Don't." I turn to JC and shake my head. "You have no idea how
NOT fake it is."
"It is pro-wrestling. Staged, yes?"
"Scripted. And ECW is the most brutal of all. When we injure ourselves,
nine out of ten times, it's real."
"It's very real."
"Robbie, please." I sigh again. "He's still bitter about his ankle."
"I break my fucking ankle one month before a two year fucking title reign. Fuckin-"
"Robbie, please." I look at Kat and she just stares at me. I don't think
she really has much faith in what we do, either. I mean, it's fake to so
many people. Usually those not involved. I guess they need proof. I stand
up and turn, my back to them. As I slowly start to raise my shirt, Rob
stands. "Don't," he says softly.
"It's fine, baby. It's healing."
"What's healing?" Kat asks me. "What didn't you tell me?"
"It's nothing Kit Kat. Just a product of the business." I'm not a moron.
I'm not gonna tell her how much it hurt when I rammed my back into the
unforgiving steel. Or how I cried like a fucking baby when I felt the skin
break from the impact.
I lift my shirt slowly, revealing the healing stitches in my back, low
across my body, just above the lining of my skirt. I hear the softened
gasps and I know it's enough. I rearrange my clothes and sit back down.
Rob sits with me and kisses my cheek softly. He was there when they
carried me out. He was holding my hand while every stitch went in. And he
had cleaned the wound every night.
I look at the looks on their faces and sigh. "Don't worry. It's fine. Doesn't even hurt anymore. Just- let's not get into the discussion of
falsity and reality."
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