The Underside of Joy

crying too. ‘Let me take those kids to see their nonna,’ he finally was able to say. ‘She made panettone to celebrate.’
    I walked down to the store to put some time in on the books. Our new books showed more promise than the old ones Joe had sweated over. We were almost making it. But things would slow down when the rainy season began. We kept hoping the glassed-in porch addition could pull us through the winter weather.
    The whole place smelled like nutmeg and cinnamon. ‘Pumpkin tarts,’ David said when I closed my eyes and inhaled. He took off his apron and gave me a hug. He told me he and Gil wanted to bring over a surprise for Zach and Annie that night. They’d wanted to give the kids a special treat for Halloween but first needed to wait and see how things turned out. When I asked what kind of surprise, he just smiled.
    ‘Don’t be coy.’
    ‘Oh, I’m nothing to you but your coy boy. Hey, guess who was in here earlier.’
    ‘A benefactor?’
    ‘Ray Longobardi. He bought the butternut squash and apple soup. Made me promise not to tell his wife.’
    ‘Guess he’s going to have to mortgage his house.’
    ‘Wait’ll he tries these tarts. The poor man will have to claim bankruptcy too.’
    ‘Now you’re being a tarty coy boy.’ He wiggled his ass and we both laughed. It felt good to laugh.
    I looked over David’s list on the counter and saw how much I hadn’t been pulling my weight, as much as I’d been trying. Now with the custody issues behind us, I could focus on three things: Annie, Zach, and the store. I told David I’d take care of the ribollita soup and started gathering the ingredients. Chopping vegetables, pouring, chopping herbs, stirring, I counted my blessings, and kept counting as I shredded the pecorino and tore the day-old bread. I crossed off the soup while it simmered, and headed upstairs to work on the books. Through the window of the office, I looked down on the store that had survived the Depression, internment camps, fear, financial difficulties, and death, and now, at last, was renewed to be something nurturing and vibrant once more. I wrote checks, counted money that was still not quite enough, and counted more blessings. So many. Too many to count.
    That night, David and Gil brought in a big crate with a huge sage ribbon tied around it. ‘What the . . .?’ I asked.
    ‘I know we should have asked you first,’ David explained. ‘But then you would have had the chance to say no.’ He set down the crate and opened the front hatch, and out jumped two grey-and-white kittens.
    ‘What the . . .?’ I said again, but Annie and Zach had already scooped them up. I stared at David and said, ‘Totally, completely unfair.’ The kids took the kittens down the hall, towards the bedrooms. Callie was beside herself, but I knew she wouldn’t hurt them. She wouldn’t even touch the chickens. But she was curious. Definitely.
    ‘Look, you need something to help keep the mice down in the barn. Also, my dear, they’ll help you with that rat problem.’
    ‘Rat problem? You mean that little mouse?’
    ‘Mice. They only come in multipacks, dear. But you do have one rat. And if I remember correctly, Paige is allergic to cats.’
    ‘David. “Rat” is awfully harsh. Be nice. It’s over now. Cut her some slack.’
    ‘Mohhhmy! We need your he-elp!’ Annie called out from my room.
    I shook my finger at David and Gil. ‘You. Kittens? ’ We went to investigate. The kids’ legs stuck out from under the bed, traces of mud lodged in the rubber tracking of their sneakers.
    ‘They keep running under your bed so Callie can’t play with them. But now we can’t find them under there. We can hear them, though.’ We crouched down to take a look. Annie was right; we couldn’t see them.
    Gil said, ‘I bet there’s a rip in the box springs – they’re probably up in the coils. My friend had a kitten who, uh’ – he placed his hand around his neck in a choke sign – ‘because it got caught up there. It happens frequently with kittens. We hear about it at the shelter too. The undersides of beds and sofas, they’re kitty death traps.’
    ‘We’ve got to get them out, then. And I believe it’s your guys’ duty to help me.’
    Gil went for a can of tuna from the pantry and opened it, and both kittens jumped out like little rabbits.
    ‘Okay, kidd os ,’ David said. ‘Hold the kitt ies and stand over by the door. We’ve got to fix this bed.’ Under his breath he