Chapter Twelve
As happy as I wanna be to be back in Chicago, saying goodbye to Francesca is the worst part of my day. I got spoiled with over 24 hours of nonstop Francesca. I already want to see her later, so I suggest a late dinner, but she says no. Since she disappeared yesterday, she has to show up for dinner tonight so as not to arouse suspicion. She’s right; I just don’t want her to be. I don’t want it to be early afternoon and already know the soonest I’ll see her again is tomorrow night.
I’m not in the best mood when I finish my rounds and head home to see my dad.
To make matters worse, he’s taking forever coming to pick shit up. I just want to go home and kick back. I need to get in touch with Adrian, too. I should text Francesca and ask if he’s at dinner tonight. I hate to text him when he’s with Mateo, on the off chance he’d notice.
“Are you staying for dinner?” Ma’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. She moves around the kitchen, wiping down the already clean counters.
“Nah, I’m just here to drop off some envelopes then I’m gonna get out of here.”
“I got a girl I want you to meet,” she tells me. “Nice girl. You remember Mary from church? Her daughter’s single now.”
“I don’t want to meet any girls, Ma.”
“But she’s a nice girl. Pretty, too. Beautiful smile. A dental hygienist. She won’t be single for long, I’ll tell you that much.”
Jesus Christ, what is taking so long?
“She’s good with kids, too. I guess Mary said the moms always ask for her special when they bring in little ones because she’s so good with them.”
I couldn’t give fewer fucks about Mary the dental hygienist. “I don’t want to meet Mary, Ma.”
“No, not Mary. Her daughter, Lila.”
“Nope, don’t want to meet her, either.” Before she can further argue the case of the new daughter-in-law she’s clearly eyeing up, I quickly ask, “Did you ever find your old recipe book with the peanut butter cake I like? I’ve been craving one.”
Adequately distracted, she launches into the boring-ass story of where she found her misplaced recipe book and how it ended up there. She promises to make me a cake for dessert on Sunday, but honestly now I’m just thinking about Francesca’s cupcakes. I don’t know if it’s the cupcakes I actually like or just the delivery system, but all of a sudden I need to talk to her. Tugging my phone out of my pocket, I shoot off a text to ask how her day’s going.
Since she texts me on a separate phone that she keeps hidden, her responses are rarely prompt. If it’s dead at the bakery, sometimes she’ll sneak in the back and send a few, but mostly she keeps me waiting around like an asshole. That shouldn’t make me smile, but it does.
God, I miss her. How do I miss her so much? I only spent one full day with her. I wonder how impossible it would be to get two full days. Or would that be worse? Would I then desire three?
Fuck.
I can’t stand not being able to take what I want. I have her, and yet I don’t. It’s fucking infuriating.
Dad finally deigns to grace us with his presence. I’m in sort of a shitty mood, thinking about all I have to do, all I want to do and can’t, and now I’m aggravated that Ma’s trying to set me up with some random woman when I have a great one she would love, if only she didn’t know her last name.
“Here ya go,” I say, pushing off the counter and handing the envelopes off to him.
“All square?” he asks.
“Yep.”
Ma pipes in, “I told Salvatore about Lila, but he doesn’t want to meet her. You need to talk to your son about the joys of marriage and family.”
Yeah fucking right. He’s the last man on earth who can lecture anyone about appreciating their family.
Since he already knows that, he barely glances at her in acknowledgement. His gaze lingers on me, a knowing sort of smugness on his face. I will not participate in that bullshit. If he thinks I’m even remotely amused by his lifetime membership to the Asshole Cheaters of America Club, he is profoundly confused.
I head over to Ma, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I appreciate you looking out for me, Ma, but I can handle my own love life, all right?”
“You’re not leaving already?” she asks, like we didn’t just go over this. “Well, hang on. I made some sub sandwiches, let me send a couple home with you.”
Now Dad speaks up. “From what I hear, Sal’s already got himself a girl.”
My blood freezes in my veins. Thank God I’m facing Ma and not him, because she’s not suspicious of me, and she’d never rat me out even if she knew. Her face lights up though, and that makes me feel bad. Passing a hand over my mouth, I get my shit together and turn back to dad with a questioning frown.
“Isn’t that right?” he asks, as if innocently, raising a bushy eyebrow. “That’s what I hear, anyway.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask levelly. “And where did you hear that?”
“Perino saw you two out in New York yesterday.”
Ma gasps, apparently thinking out-of-town trips indicate a level of seriousness that could potentially lead to grandkids. “New York?”
Motherfucker.
“What’s her name?” Ma demands, so happy she could burst. She swats my arm with the back of her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me? This is why you don’t want to meet Lila. That’s a good reason; you should’ve just told me that.”
“It’s nothing serious,” I say, not having to feign my look of irritation. “It’s just a casual thing. No one new—Vivian, from a long time ago. Please don’t get carried away, Ma. It’s nothing to get excited about. We’re barely more than friends.”
“Well, I don’t have any friends who take me on romantic trips to New York,” she says, all smug and knowing.
I sigh. I glare at Dad. He smirks.
“Think you can keep your old man in the dark, but I know, see? I actually remember Vivian,” he remarks. “Nice rack on that one.”
Grimacing, I shake my head. “Dad… no.”
He shrugs, like what do I expect? “She was the one who posted all the pictures with her tits out for everyone to see.”
“Okay, I’m leaving.”
“Antonio, you’re disgusting,” Ma tells him, shaking her head disapprovingly. “That could be the mother of our grandchildren you’re talking about.”
“It isn’t.” God. I give Ma one more kiss, then I’m forced to linger long enough for her to grab two foil-wrapped subs out of the fridge so I don’t starve.
“You should bring Vivian around for dinner this weekend,” Ma tells me, following after me as I head for the front door. “I’d love to meet her.”
“She won’t be in town. She likes to travel, and just so happens she has a trip this weekend. But again, this isn’t a serious thing, definitely not serious enough to bring her home.”
Her face drawn with concern, Ma grabs my free hand, pressing it between both of hers. “I worry about you, Salvatore. You’re not getting any younger, and you need to find yourself a good girl.”
Before I met Francesca, this would’ve made me roll my eyes. I needed to find myself a good girl like I needed an extra hole in my head, but it turns out good girls are, in fact, pretty fucking awesome.
God, I wish I could bring her home to meet Ma. I don’t need the approval of my family to have a relationship with her, obviously, but more for Ma’s benefit than anything. Being raised in the family she was brought up in, Francesca would be able to fit right in. Ma’s always been deeply traditional—that’s why she won’t leave my dad, even though she should’ve many, many years ago. Francesca’s everything Ma would love in a daughter-in-law. She’s kind, funny, smart, and brought up in a frankly sexist family. If she has to have a business, Ma would approve of it being a bakery.
Just not the Morelli family bakery.
Even that Francesca doesn’t shorten her name. Ma has a weird pet peeve about nicknames. She says your mother goes to all the trouble of picking you out a beautiful name, and people have to go and ruin it by hacking it up with a shortened version. She’d love that Francesca doesn’t go by Franny or Frankie or any shortened version—just Francesca. Elegant, like she is.
Ma would love her. I’m surprised by how much I want that, since it’s never meant a damn thing to me before. I’ve never been even remotely tempted to bring a girl home, and now here I am.
It’s impossible, though. Unless Dad ever lets go of his beef with her brother, it’s impossible. He won’t, because Mateo’s a disrespectful upstart who stands for everything he hates, but if he’d just let it go, I could make everyone happy. Ma could finally see I found a good girl to bring home. Francesca wouldn’t have to long for family connections—she could make connections in mine. It’s the craziest fucking thing I can imagine, but without having even slept with her, I’m ready to bring her home to meet my family.
Except, you know, there’s the off-chance if I did, my dad might start plotting against her. I can just see him being pissed off that she’s even sitting at his dinner table. Morelli scum, he’d call her. He’d be an asshole to her. Then everybody would abruptly stop liking her, because I’d be the one lacking respect as I took Francesca’s side against my own father. Then I’d have to watch him like a hawk to make sure he wasn’t plotting anything, and if he was, I might not find out until it was too late.
It’s too big a risk.
Goddammit.
Why does this have to be so fucking difficult?