Chapter Forty Six
Francesca
My bridal shower goes off without a hitch, but Sal’s mom doesn’t come.
I offer to go to his mom’s Sunday for dinner, but he says no and we have dinner with my family instead. I know he really doesn’t mind spending the family day with my family every week, but considering I know he spent every Sunday before me at his mom’s, I have to imagine it’s not making her like me any more that he’s not now.
So I ask Mia to cover my afternoon at the bakery Monday and I drive over to Sal’s mom’s. He doesn’t know I’m going because I don’t think he’d approve. I told Maddie, but mostly only because I’m a little paranoid about how much his mom hates me, and if she sics some goons on me or something, I need someone to know where I went. Her daughter probably wasn’t the best choice, but Mia knows where I’m going, too, so one way or another someone will find out.
My heart pounds as I stand on the porch, waiting to see if she’ll even answer the door. I knocked and pushed the doorbell, just in case she didn’t hear one or the other. I know she saw me, because I saw the curtain move when she looked out to see who was on her doorstep.
I almost give up and go back to my car when the door finally opens.
“Mrs. Castellanos,” I say, offering a hopeful smile.
She’s scowling at me, the door only cracked open like I’m some potential burglar who might break down her door and steal her jewelry. Her gaze drops suspiciously to the white box in my hands, like maybe I brought hand grenades with me.
I guess it’s not impossible that she thinks any of this. I am a Morelli. There has been violence between our families. She doesn’t know me, so she doesn’t know I’ve never been involved in anything like that. My brother has a reputation for respecting tradition when it suits him and breaking with tradition the moment it doesn’t, so hey, if he could use a female, maybe he would. It’s not done in our kinds of families, but Mateo does whatever the hell he wants.
“What are you doing here?” she asks shortly, looking me over and settling her disapproving stare on my face. “Is Sal okay?”
“Oh, yeah,” I say with a quick nod. “Yeah, Sal’s good. Um, I was just paying a social call.” Now I hold up the box. “I ordered something for you; I was going to give it to you in case you came to the shower. It’s fine that you didn’t, I just still wanted to give it to you.”
She finally opens the door wide enough to peer out, looking around like she’s making sure I’m here alone. She really does not trust me.
“All alone,” I assure her, still smiling faintly.
“Well, you never know with your family,” she tells me, nodding her head at me. “That’s what my husband always told me, and it looks like he was right, doesn’t it?”
“My family… We’re not for everyone,” I agree, nodding.
She makes a noise of denigrating agreement but takes a couple steps back inside the house. “Well, come in so I don’t have to let all the cool air out.”
I step inside, awkwardly moving aside as she closes the door.
“How was your dinner yesterday?” she asks, eyebrows rising haughtily, accusing me of wrongdoing without words.
I feel oddly guilty, even though I’ve done not a damn thing wrong. I glance down at the box before looking back at her. “Family is important to me, so it’s nice to have the opportunity to introduce Sal to my loved ones. I know it’s equally important to Sal and I know it’s been stressing him out that he hasn’t been able to. He doesn’t know I’m here,” I tell her, a bit tentatively. “I didn’t want to stress him out more. I just thought maybe if you had a little time, we could talk.”
“What would I want to talk to you about?” she asks.
“The one thing we both have in common,” I tell her.
Her eyes narrow with dislike. “You and I have nothing in common.”
I meet her gaze unflinchingly. If she thinks meanness is enough to scare me off, she really doesn’t know a damn thing about my family. “We have one very important thing in common: we both love Sal.” Since there’s probably no better opening, I offer her the white box I brought with me.
She still acts like she doesn’t trust it, but also like she’s deeply inconvenienced that I brought her a present. She takes it anyway.
“When Sal and I were getting to know each other, there were obvious barriers. Talking about our families was sort of touchy since we were both a little leery about the other person’s interest for a while, but there were little things we could still share. I remember he told me how much you liked espresso, so I was going to get you this cute coffee mug, but I got this instead.”
She unwraps the small porcelain cup and looks down at it to read the message. It’s hand-painted with little blue hydrangeas—my wedding flowers—and it reads, “Thank you for raising the man of my dreams.”
“I don’t have a mom,” I tell her, awkwardly clasping my hands in front of me. “I never have; my mom died when I was just a baby. I had a very cruel father and he hurt her a lot, and I guess she just… she could only take so much pain, knowing there was no way out. That’s one of the things Sal and I could talk about, and his biggest regret about having to keep our relationship secret was that he couldn’t bring me home to meet you. I think he thought you would feel like you were gaining another daughter, and it would be a win for both of us. Right from the beginning I could tell what a wonderful mother you must have been, even before he told me, because Sal is so wonderful. He’s honestly the most incredible, loving, loyal man I’ve ever met, and I know it’s because you made him that way. He’s gorgeous and sweet and funny, and… and he could be spoiled, he could be selfish or uncaring, but he isn’t. Instead he’s protective and compassionate and strong. He has integrity. He has heart. He’s respectful. He’s the single greatest man I’ve ever met, and you made him that way, so I wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart.” I’m feeling unexpectedly misty, so I pause and look up toward the ceiling so I don’t embarrass myself by getting all teary.
She looks at the cup again, then places it down on the counter. There’s less aggression in her now. I don’t know if it’s because of what I said or the fact that I almost cried like a ninny, but it doesn’t matter.
“Anyway, I know you’ve had doubts about whether or not you want to come to our wedding. I understand why you feel that way, but I really hope you’ll come, and I know it would mean everything to Sal. He hasn’t even been sleeping because he’s so anxious over all this, and it breaks my heart. He’s been… the single greatest thing to ever happen to me, and I love him so much. It hurts that my presence in his life is creating a rift with you, because I know how important you are to him, too. So I hope you’ll come share that day with us, but if you can’t, our door is open if you ever change your mind. I’m sure we’ll have lots of pictures of the day, so I could send you an album if you wanted. I don’t think it’d be the same as being there, though.”
She doesn’t say anything, and if I keep standing here it’s only going to get more and more awkward.
“So, that’s all I wanted to say. I have to get back to work now, but I hope you enjoy the espresso. We’re a coffee household so I didn’t really know what to buy, but the stuff in the box is supposed to be really good.”
She still doesn’t speak, and I don’t really expect her to. It’d be really nice if I managed to say the right thing, but I guess at least I didn’t say the wrong thing, because she’s not screaming at me.
I offer one last tentative smile, and she offers nothing back, so I slip out the door and make my way back out to my car.
---
Mark is inexplicably at the bakery visiting Mia when I get back.
It’s inexplicable because he shouldn’t have even known she was there—I’m supposed to be working, but at least his shine doesn’t dim when I come in and interrupt.
“Hey, future friend-in-law,” he says, reaching out and tapping me on the arm.
“What are you doing here, persona non grata?” I fire back, raising my eyebrows and cocking my head pointedly toward the camera.
Waving dismissively, Mark says, “He doesn’t watch that. If he did, he’d have known about Sal a long time ago.”
“He might since you whisked Mia off to a hotel,” I inform him.
Mark smiles at Mia across the display. “She makes it sound so naughty.”
“Why are you here?” I ask again, wanting to clear him out of here.
“My fault,” Mia says, sheepishly raising her hand. “I was bored and hungry. He offered to bring me a burrito. I’m cheap.”
Lifting an eyebrow, I nod at her $600 sandals. “Tell that to your shoes.”
“I haven’t paid for shoes in over a year,” she informs me.
“Perks of being a gangster’s sugar baby,” Mark teases.
Rolling her eyes, Mia swats him in the arm. “Shut up.”
“Hey, I’m not hatin’. If I had Mateo money, I’d buy you shoes, too.”
“Shh,” she says, pressing her finger to her lips.
I know she’s not doing it to draw his attention there, but she does anyway.
Poor Mark.
“Of course, your actual boyfriend probably wouldn’t approve,” Mark goes on, like he’s not now wondering what she would look like giving him a blowjob. “But hey, he’s the asshole who doesn’t buy you shoes, so it’s really his own fault.”
“Does Sal know you’re here?” I ask sternly. “He’s not supposed to know I left. If you blew my cover to stalk Mia, I’m going to be so pissed at you.”
“I am not stalking Mia,” Mark informs me. “I know she’s not as freaked out by that as most women would be, but I do try not to be a creepy motherfucker more than absolutely necessary.” Mia rolls her eyes at this commentary, but Mark goes on. “Sal does not know I’m here, but why are you secretly leaving the bakery? You better not be steppin’ out on him; only men are allowed to do that shit.”
“I am. I’m stepping out on him with his mother. It’s quite scandalous.”
Mark’s dark brows shoot clear up his forehead. “You were out with Mama Castellanos?”
“Don’t tell him. I don’t think it worked. I wanted to see if I could convince her to come to the wedding, but she still hates my Morelli guts.”
Nodding grimly, he says, “It’s really easy to hate Morelli guts. Sorry about that.”
“Spoken like a true outsider,” Mia says haughtily. “The Morellis are fine, you just can’t be such a whiny little bitch. ‘Treat me with respect, stop playing with my mind, don’t ruin my life.’” She mocks rubbing her eyes like a crying baby. “Wahh, wahh, wahh. Bunch of babies.”
I nod, pointing at Mia. “See, you’re just not badass enough to hang with us.”
Gaping dramatically, Mark argues, “I am so badass, you don’t even know. I popped a cap in some guy’s ass right in front of you.”
Mia pulls a look that tells him she’s not impressed. “Eh, behind me. I never saw proof. You probably faked it.”
“All right, crazy; I guess if you’re gonna keep playing with fire, at least you can laugh about your third degree burns,” Mark states.
Nodding, Mia flexes her ankle. “Look how well they complement my shoes.”
I smile, walking around the display and going to the back to put my purse in the office while Mia torments Mark. Mia adapts to her surroundings and I’m so used to her around Vince and Mateo, I forgot she was more light-hearted and fun when Mark was around. It really is too bad he can’t date her. They’d be great couple friends.