“Seth and I used to fight all the time,” Frannie said as she put an egg and some skim milk in a blender. Angie’s fourth sister looked almost radiant as she awaited the birth of her first child.
“I remember your fights,” Angie shouted over the loud whirring sound. “I think the whole neighborhood remembers. You two weren’t exactly quiet about it.”
Two years ago, Frannie had married Seth Levine, a young architect. One month after the wedding day, she was back home seeking special dispensation to divorce. Seth came seeking her two days later, and she went with him. Their truce lasted three weeks before they were at it again. Serefina threatened to put a revolving door in Francesca’s bedroom.
“Ever since he found out about the baby, though,” Frannie said, “he’s been different. It’s as if he finally realized that marriage means family and responsibility.” She switched off the blender, dipped her finger in the mixture, and licked it experimentally. “It’s as if he figured out what it’s all about.”
“Doesn’t it worry him?” Angie asked, glad she could stop hollering. “You know, the commitment?”
Frannie poured the milk into a ten-ounce glass, then used it to force down a giant vitamin pill. “It does. There are times I think he gets scared by what’s happening. I know I do.”
“You do?”
“Look at me. I’m big as a house. I feel ugly, awkward, and sexy as an orange peel. I’m quite sure Seth’s going to run off with the first halfway-decent-looking woman that smiles at him. But you know what?”
“What?”
“He says I look more beautiful to him now than ever. I guess it’s not really beauty he’s talking about, but something deeper, something that comes from the heart. Seth and I are closer than ever before. I guess that sounds weird.”
“No, I understand.”
“What about you and Paavo?”
“I don’t know, Frannie. The more I learn, the more confused I am. He’s no marrying man, that’s for sure. I’m lousy at compromise, impatient, and sometimes a little too emotional. We have nothing in common, spend too much time apart, and rarely see eye to eye. Is that a recipe for a happy marriage?”
“Does it matter?”
Angie thought about Frannie’s question a moment. Then, with a big smile, she jumped to her feet and gave her astonished sister a hug. “Obviously, not in the slightest.”