“Anyone not helping, out of my kitchen,” she said with authority.
Charlotte and I headed out to go find our father in the family room, but I made sure to snag a fresh roll on the way out, while Vanni and Sara stayed to help Ma with dinner. They both loved to cook, while Charlotte and I did not, so we left them to it.
“Ah, there you are. Give me my granddaughter,” Dad said as we stepped down into the room.
He was in his recliner while Peter and Paul, my nephews, sat on the floor as they watched the game on TV.
“Who’s winning?” Charlotte asked as she gently transferred the baby into our father’s arms.
“The Giants, of course,” he replied. He was a lifelong Giants fan.
I crossed to the side bar to pour myself two fingers of scotch. “Dad, Char, want anything?”
“I have everything I need right here,” my dad said as he made cooing noises at Sky.
“I’ll have what you’re having,” Charlotte said as she leaned back into the large, comfy sofa with a sigh and closed her eyes.
I doubted she’d last one minute before she passed out, so I poured her drink and set it on the table next to her for when she was ready.
I settled on the sofa on the other end, closest to Dad’s chair, and watched the game.
Dad and I had a strict no business at family functions rule, so we chatted about the game, joked around with the boys, and simply enjoyed each other’s company until Ma gave the call that dinner was ready.
“Oh, I must have dozed off,” Charlotte said when I got up and touched her on the shoulder to tell her to come eat.
“You probably needed it,” I said as she stood and picked up her still-full glass. “Dad laid Sky down in the kids room.”
“Thanks, Pop,” she said, moving to link her arm with his and lay her head briefly on his shoulder.
“It was my pleasure, sweetheart.”
“Come on, boys, last one to the table gets the smallest piece of lasagna,” I said with a laugh. There were no small pieces of lasagna. My mother was very generous with her portions. Still, it was enough to motivate my nephews to get up and hurry along to the dining room.
When I entered the room, intent on getting to my chair and piling my plate with food, I was brought up short when I saw my high school girlfriend was already seated.
I glanced at my mother, who simply beamed at me, before finding my manners and stepping up beside her.
“Giada, I didn’t realize you were here. How are you?” I asked as I bent to kiss her cheek.
“I’m well, thank you. Your mother invited me. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course,” I replied as I took my seat. Of course my mother had sat us next to each other. Although she hadn’t been a fan of us being too serious in high school, the fact that I hadn’t had a long-term girlfriend since Giada, had my mother worried. She was convinced I needed to be settled down with a wife and a dozen kids in order to be happy. “What brings you back to the city?”
“Visiting my parents for a few days. My father’s been feeling under the weather and it’s been a while since I’ve been back home, so it seemed like I was due.”
Giada had moved away for college and never really came back except for the occasional visit.
“I’m sure they’re happy to see you,” I replied, passing my plate down so my father could put lasagna on it and hand it to Vanni for salad. We passed the plates around the table, until everyone’s were filled with every dish, before pausing to say grace and dig in.
There were no special orders or substitutions. If my ma made it, she expected everyone to eat it. So everyone, including the kids, not only had the lasagna and salad, but sautéed green beans, fresh rolls, and would need to save room for desert.
“While you are all eating, and therefore quiet for a few minutes at least, I have something for your mother,” my dad began, a small smile playing on his lips.
My mother looked up and across the table at him with an expression of surprise.
“You do, Giovanni?” she asked. As the oldest, my brother was named after my father, which was why we called him Vanni … unless he was in trouble.
“Yes, my dear. For your birthday next month,” he paused for effect, “I am taking you to Italy!”
Our mother’s eyes got big, before seeming to roll back in her head as she passed out and slid onto the floor.
“Oh my God!”
“Mom!”
“Somebody help her!”
The room erupted into chaos as everyone moved and shouted. I made it to my mom first and maneuvered her so her head was in my lap.
“Here.” A cool cloth was placed in my hand and I ran it along her forehead.
“Ma,” I whispered.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked momentarily confused before giving me a sweet smile.
“Luca, I had the most wonderful dream,” she said softly.
“No, it was real, Ma. Dad’s taking you to Italy.”
My ma shook her head and said, “No, in the dream you told me you were getting married.”
I chuckled and assured everyone, “She’s fine.”
Seven
Whitney
I was running solely off of coffee and nerves.
I’d been too anxious to eat anything before getting my kids off to school and myself ready for my first day of work. Instead, I’d downed three cups of coffee back-to-back, which, in retrospect, was probably not the best idea.
Not only was I extremely caffeinated, but my full bladder made the elevator ride extremely uncomfortable.
At least I look good.
Yesterday, while my kids were off with their friends living their lives, I’d decided to splurge on myself. I hit my favorite stores and put a good dent in my saving. The result was the sharp, yet, if I did say so myself, subtly sexy pants suit I was currently wearing.
It was slate gray with beautiful lines, and I paired it with a pretty pink blouse and matching heels. The last of which I’d probably be crying about later tonight when I soaked my sore feet, but for now I felt fabulous.
Other than the bladder, of course.
I smiled absently at people when they got onto the elevator with me as I squeezed myself into the corner and prayed the next twenty stories would go by quickly. Unfortunately, the more people who got on, the more buttons were pushed, so I resigned myself to the fact that the bathroom was a good five minutes away still.
My leg jiggled periodically, and my eyes stayed glued to red numbers as I watched them increase until finally it hit twenty-five. I breathed a sigh of relief, murmured, “Excuse me,” and turned so I could push my way out.
Remembering the layout of the lobby from my interview the week before, I spun on my heel and hurried to the right toward the restrooms.
Just as I was about to reach my destination, relief in sight, a man stepped out of the men’s room, causing me to pull up short.
“Sorry,” I managed, as I started to walk around him, intent on the door to the Ladies’.
“Whitney?”
The sound of my name in that smooth, sexy voice had my head whipping up, even though I knew immediately who had spoken.
“Luca,” I breathed.
You know how your world tilts when you see someone in a place you never expected to see them? That’s how it felt to see Luca, looking hot and dapper, in the lobby of my new job, rather than in the restaurant by the jukebox.