Just a Taste

Just a Taste by Deirdre Martin Page A

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Authors: Deirdre Martin
Tags: Contemporary
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and Michael thought. No wonder Little Ant was feeling the heat; the kid was Michael’s lifeline to a world he knew inside and out, one in which Michael had excelled.
    “How’s Little Ant doing in hockey?” Anthony asked.
    Michael puffed up with pride. “They don’t play their first game until next week, but from what I’ve seen at the practices I’ve been able to catch, he’s looking pretty good.”
    “The coach must love having you there,” Anthony drawled sarcastically.
    Michael frowned. “I keep telling the guy to look at me as a resource, but I get the sense he sees me as more of a liability than an asset. Cafone. ”
    “Maybe he’s worried you’re making Little Ant nervous.”
    “Nah. I’ve been playing hockey with Little Ant since he was three. He’s not nervous.”
    “So, he’s enjoying himself?”
    “Yeah, of course.” Michael’s gaze turned suspicious. “What’s with the fifty questions all of a sudden?”
    “What, I can’t show interest in my only nephew?”
    “You’re right.” He patted Anthony’s shoulder affectionately. “Didn’t mean to bite your head off. I’m just a little tired.”
    “The kids are running your ass off, huh?”
    “Pretty much. But that’s the way it goes, right?”
    “I guess.” Anthony absently scratched behind his ear. “You know, last time I was at your place, Little Ant was asking me all sorts of questions about cooking.”
    “Yeah, I noticed that,” said Michael, frowning a little.
    “I was thinking—maybe I could show him how to prepare a few things.”
    Michael shrugged. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with hockey, why not?”
    Shit, thought Anthony, heart sinking on his nephew’s behalf. This was going to be one uphill battle. Anthony didn’t have any kids, so he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell his brother how to raise his.
    “Do you know what time his first game is next week?” Anthony asked.
    “I can check. Why? You want to go?” The prospect seemed to make Michael happy.
    “Yeah, I’d love to.” The kid needed all the emotional support he could get. “It depends on whether I can get away.”
    “It’d be right after school, and the game usually doesn’t last for more than an hour,” Michael said eagerly. “You’d be back here in time for the beginning of the dinner rush.”
    “I’ll try.”
    “Good. Little Ant would love it. You know how much he loves you.”
    “Yeah, I do,” Anthony agreed proudly. He was a damn good uncle if he said so himself.
    Michael slid out of his seat gingerly and picked up the baby carrier, regarding his slumbering daughter with affection. “I should probably get her home and settled. If she wakes up here, she’ll freak out.”
    “I’ll go put together some dinner for you. But first, let me ask you a question.”
    “Shoot.”
    “What do you think is the best dessert I make?” Anthony hated sounding like he was fishing for compliments, but he needed an objective opinion in choosing what to make that would blow Vivi’s socks off, gastronomically speaking.
    “No question, the ricotta fritters.”
    Anthony was pleasantly surprised. “Yeah? Not the olive oil cake?”
    “Your olive oil cake is outstanding, but the fritters—oh man. Theresa says they’re better than sex.”
    I remember sex, Anthony thought nostalgically. He hadn’t been with anyone since Ang died. Friends urged him to find a friend with benefits, or even visit a hooker if he needed relief, but Anthony was not a sex for sex’s sake kind of guy. Never had been.
    “Right,” Anthony said, tightening the ties of his apron. “You wait here, I’ll get the chow.”
    “Mucho thanks, my man. I’ll shoot you a call later about Little Ant’s game.”
    “Sounds good.”
    “Oh, and Ant?”
    “Yeah?”
    Michael grinned. “Next time you see Vivi, tell her from me that her apple pie is outstanding.”

Chapter 5
    “T his estimate is outrageous.”
    Vivi tried to cover her embarrassment over Natalie’s pronouncement,

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