Always There

It's rather difficult to feel gorgeous on an Italian beach when there's other women who're native to the country with flawless bodies, more than a decade younger than you and, not to mention, you're five months pregnant and have your two sons building sand castles beside you.

Propping herself up with her elbows, Maria lifted her sunglasses to study her boys while Mitch was laying on his stomach with his face buried in his towel, tanning and sleeping at the same time. She was happy to be able to have this once in a lifetime vacation and to have seen four different European countries so far. England was calming and unique with its history and sights, France was sophisticated and beautiful with its ability to make a tourist feel like nouveau riche, Spain was sensual and cozy with its warmth and wonderful people, and now there was Italy.

Despite feeling like crap compared to the lovely 'bambinas' that were abounding everywhere Maria looked, the Italian men still whistled at her in the most crude ways, five months pregnant and all. And she loved it.

A smile creeping over her lips, Maria rolled onto her side, facing her sons as she closed her eyes. She rested her left hand on her bare stomach, feeling her unborn baby movng around slightly. It brought another smile to her face while also bringing forth a little sadness.

* * *

Later that evening, the Conners were in their hotel suite, getting ready to go out to dinner at the resort's restaurant. Nathan kept jumping on the bed he was sharing with his older brother, going on and on about wanting to have spaghetti while Ben was throwing his beach ball at him.

Fixing her hair and putting on a touch of make-up, Maria smirked to her sons' youthful laughs while making out the sound of Mitch's muffled voice. She stopped putting on a layer of lip balm and turned her head to listen carefully, squinting her eyes to strain to hear. Stepping out of the bathroom she stepped into her room's archway. Mitch was sitting with his back to her in the sitting room, talking on his cell phone.

"Yeah I sold it like you suggested. Yes...yes, I'm very happy with the outcome. I'll be in Germany in a few days and then I'll be in Switzerland, so, yeah. I'm gonna take care of business there and when I get back, we'll talk."

Maria ducked further back into her room and frowned. What in the hell was Mitch talking about? And who was he talking to, and why? She supposed she shouldn't have expected him to tear himself completely away from work while on vacation. He'd always been a workaholic.

But something about his phone conversation left an incomplete feeling in her gut, as if he was being secretive about something and she didn't care much for it al all.

* * *

"It's good to see you again, Billie Joe," Enrique greeted as the punk rocker stood at his front door.

"It's good to be seen," Billie Joe replied. "How was Olivia?"

"Oh, she was wonderful. We took her to the beach a few times and I swear she is a fish. At the beach, here in our pool. Can't keep her out of the water."

"Tell me about it. She's been in the pool at my house every day this summer. I think it's the first thing she does when she wakes up."

Enrique let out a hearty laugh and slapped his hand gently on Billie Joe's back as he led the East Bay-er inside. "Come on inside. Take a load off."

"Thanks."

"So, how was your drive down here to San Diego? Any traffic?"

"Just a little here and there," Billie Joe replied, following Enrique into the living room and sitting on the couch. "There was morning traffic heading through San Francisco and then I stopped by a friend's house in San Jose so it took me a little while longer to get here. I, uh, I took a route around Los Angeles to avoid any traffic there."

"Yes. Rush hour traffic in LA is horrible." Enrique plopped down into his recliner. It was a new one; different than the one he'd had all those years ago when Billie Joe had first met him.

"Tell me about it." The green-eyed guitarist smirked and scratched at his temple as he hunched forward only slightly. "So, where's Liv?"

"Oh, she's out doing some school shopping with Lynn. They should be back soon."

A moment of silence fell over both men. It wasn't awkward, but it was still a little strange. The last time Billie Joe had to sit like this with Enrique, he was twenty and Maria was helping her mother in the kitchen with the Thanksgiving desserts. Maria's brother was also seventeen then and they were all passing around a joint. Now, Billie Joe was thirty-four and waiting for his soon-to-be teenage daughter to return to the house her mother grew up in. It was a little surreal.

"So, what are your plans?"

"Excuse me?" Billie Joe looked up.

"Your plans for Maria and the baby."

"Oh."

"Yes. 'Oh,'" Enrique smirked. "Let us face it, Billie Joe. Mitchell Conner is a...un hijo de la perra. A son of a bitch. He is not one to fawn over Olivia as he does his own sons and I am sure you know of this as well. I noticed it when I mentioned his name. Your eye seemed to do a little twitchy thing."

Billie Joe laughed a little. "Yeah, he's an asshole. But he's given Olivia a good life. Maria, too. And I think in his own way he loves Olivia. I think it would be impossible for anyone to not like her. She's great."

"Very true. Olivia is a lovely child. I am proud she is my first grandchild. I owe thanks to you, young man, for doing your part in giving me a beautiful person in my life. And now I can see her more when she is out to visit you for holidays and the summer months." Enrique sat back and made a waving gesture. "But I digress. Mitch, aside, how do you plan on being a part of this new child's life? It will be impossible to take a child, an infant, on a plane. Well, to be more specific, to take a baby from its mother. And if you want the child to know you as it grows, you will most likely have to make the move in visiting New York, more often than I am sure your wife will like."

Billie Joe frowned. "Yeah..."

"I see I touched a sore spot, yes?" When the younger man nodded, Enrique leaned forward and patted his knee then pulled out something familiar.

A joint.

"You're kidding me, right?" Billie Joe wondered.

Enrique shook his head and pulled out a lighter. "We have enough time to share this before my wife and your daughter return," he said, lighting the joint and taking a quick hit.

"You know," the punk rocker began, taking hit from the joint as soon as Enrique passed it to him. "I've always enjoyed these talks."

Both men laughed.

* * *

"Hey, honey, listen. I'm gonna go do a little window shopping on my own. So if you don't mind sitting still here with the boys for a while, that'd be great," Mitch said, kissing Maria on the top of her head before picking his wallet up off the bedside table and stuffing it in his pocket.

"Why alone?" Maria questioned.

"Well...because I wanna look for something for you and the boys and I can't very well surprise you if you're there, now can I?" He looked at her, expectantly awaiting her agreement.

"I suppose you're right."

"Of course I am," Mitch smirked.

Maria followed her husband into the sitting room of their Swiss hotel suite. The boys were flipping through the TV channels and complaingin because they couldn't understand the language.

"How long will you be gone?"

"Uh..." Mitch looked at his watch and shifted his weight from one leg to another. "Two, three hours tops." He kissed her cheek and began to head out the door.

"Mitch."

"Yeah, Temp?" he looked back at her.

"You'd tell me if you were hiding anything, right? I mean, we promised no more secrets."

Mitch hesitated, looking at Maria as if she'd gone mad. Then smiled. "Of course I would." Placing a hand on her shoulder he leaned in and kissed her. "Now I'll see you later and then take you to dinner. All three of you. Behave for your mother, boys!" he added, calling out to Ben and Nathan.

As soon as the hotel suite door closed behind Mitch, maria turned toward her children who were looking up at her.

"Where'd Dad go, mom?" Ben asked.

"Uh...shopping, he said. He's gonna, um, surprise us."

"Oh, cool!" Ben exclaimed.

"Yeah," Maria nodded, half-interested. "Cool."