Chapter 42
Jessica looked around the bedroom. At least they hadn't broken any lamps. They had, however, knocked everything off one of the night stands. She hoped her mother's Hummels were okay.
Jessica rolled over, gathered the sheets around her. Vincent looked as if he had been hit by a car.
'Hey, sailor.'
'No,' Vincent said. 'No, no, no.'
Jessica ran a finger over his lips. 'What?'
'You are a devil temptress.'
'I told you not to marry me.' She snuggled closer. 'What, are you worn out?'
Vincent caught his breath. Or tried to. He was coated with sweat. He pushed the covers off, remained silent.
'Boy, you macho Italian cops sure talk a good game,' Jessica said. 'Try to get you into round two? Fuggetaboutit.''
'Do we have any cigarettes?'
'You don't smoke.'
'I want to start.'
Jessica laughed, got out of bed, went down to the kitchen. She returned with two glasses of wine. If her calculations were correct - and they usually were at times like these, she had managed to get new appliances over the past two years by playing these moments just right - she would start her maneuvers in ten minutes.
On the other hand, this was not about a new washer or dryer. This was about a life. Their life. Sophie's life. And the life of a little boy.
When she slipped back into bed, Vincent was checking his messages on his cellphone. He put the phone down, grabbed his glass of wine. They clinked, sipped, kissed. The moment was right. Jessica said: 'I want to talk to you about something.'