Chapter Twenty

 

 

“FRIDAY AT five o’clock.” Kyle slipped his iPhone back into his pocket. Annie and her husband, Dr. Sullivan, were headed to their lake house for the long weekend, but he was more than willing to fit Mrs. Giordano in Friday before he left.

Forrester let out a sigh of relief as he turned the meatballs in the skillet per his mother’s detailed instructions. At the news, the tension visibly loosened his shoulders. “That’s great. Thanks, Kyle. Isn’t that great, Ma?”

The gratitude in his lover’s eyes was the next best thing to the hug Kyle would’ve received in private.

“Make sure you brown them evenly,” Forrester’s mother said.

“Forget about the meatballs, Ma. I know how to cook ’em. I’ll pick you up for the appointment at four.”

“I don’t know.” She hesitated. “Friday I take Nonna to bingo, and I know you boys have baseball practice—”

“I don’t care about practice. I’m taking you to the appointment, and you aren’t gonna give me any lip about it.”

“Well,” Mrs. Giordano said in a huff. “Look who’s so bossy. You’d think he was the parent all of a sudden.”

Kyle grinned. No matter how sad the circumstances, he thoroughly enjoyed meeting Forrester’s mother. Sarcasm and wit weren’t the only similarities between mother and son. He’d inherited her fair complexion and wavy dark hair, though the years had peppered her hair with gray. Despite obvious pain, she moved about the kitchen with poise and grace. Kyle hadn’t been kidding when he told her she was beautiful, having those same thick lashes as Forrester. He wondered if Forrester would age as well.

“You don’t like the cannoli, do you?” Mrs. Giordano said, startling Kyle out of his musings.

“Oh, I haven’t even tried it.” He picked up the pastry and took a bite. Feeding people was more than something she enjoyed, he realized—it was a great diversion tactic when she didn’t want to discuss something. “Wow, it’s delicious.”

“You serious?” She screwed up her face in such a remarkably similar way to Forrester, Kyle chuckled.

“Yes, it’s good,” he insisted. He usually avoided desserts, but not only did he sense it would be an unforgivable insult to Mrs. Giordano, but it tasted too good to put down. “If you think these are bad, I can’t imagine how good yours are.”

She patted his cheek, and he felt an embarrassed blush color his face at a motherly touch he’d gone too long without. “You’re a sweet-talker, just like my Forrester.”

Kyle caught Forrester’s pleased smile as he popped open a jar of homemade spaghetti sauce and poured it over the meatballs. In moments the pot of aromatic sauce made Kyle’s mouth water, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

Mrs. Giordano pushed to her feet and went over to check the progress of the food. “Yeah, that looks okay.”

“I know it does,” Forrester groused.

While she tasted it and added a little pepper, Kyle remembered how weak and tired his mom had been when she had her lumpectomy. Tough as nails, however, Mrs. Giordano stubbornly pretended to be fine. They had both calmed down, but Kyle could sense the unspoken anger and frustration still coming off Forrester. His gaze never left his mother for long. Kyle wished he could hug him or hold his hand for support.

A rustling on the back porch drew his attention, and then a man’s voice called out, “Mama, we’re home. Whose sweet ride is parked out front?”

Mrs. Giordano pointed a warning finger at Forrester. “You keep your mouth shut.”

Forrester looked at Kyle and threw up his hands. “Do you believe this shit?”

Kyle shrugged. He had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from saying all the Giordanos seemed to like to keep secrets, but he didn’t think the humor would be appreciated.

A tall good-looking man and a silver-haired old woman entered the kitchen.

“How were the movies, Joey?” Mrs. Giordano held her cheek out for a kiss before she said something in Italian to the old woman.

“The first one was terrible,” Joey said. “Shouldn’t have been nominated, but we liked the new Tom Hanks one.”

Kyle put down the pastry in his hand and instinctively sat up a little straighter.

If Joey lost thirty pounds and Forrester gained thirty, they could pass for twins. They shared those same sexy eyelashes and their mother’s sharp facial features and roman nose. While they had similar black, wavy hair, Forrester’s was its usual moppy mess and Joey’s looked perfect, like he spent a long time styling it. Kyle’s skin warmed a bit. After seeing three of the Giordano brothers, he wondered if the fourth one was just as hot.

“Ciao, Nonna.” Forrester greeted the old woman with a kiss. Her sharp eyes took in Kyle briefly, then went to her daughter. She said something in Italian, and Mrs. Giordano replied in turn.

Joey paused in the middle of kicking off his shoes when he spied Kyle. “Who’s this guy?”

Nonna whacked Joey in the back of the head so quick, Kyle actually laughed in shock. She scolded him in Italian, and Joey muttered something back, then said to Kyle, “Hello, welcome to our home.”

“Thanks,” Kyle said, still grinning.

“That’s Kyle. He’s a good friend of mine.” Forrester accepted a one-armed hug from his brother. Kyle couldn’t help it, but seeing them embrace, then kiss each other’s cheeks made him a little hot.

Forrester stepped back. “Kyle, this is my little brother, Joey.”

Making sure he had no pastry crumbs on his hand, he held it out. “Nice to meet you, Joey.”

Joey shook his hand and tossed his car keys on the table beside Kyle. “That your car out front?”

“Yes.”

“That car is titties, man.”

“Thanks.” Kyle’s brows rose at Joey’s choice in adjectives. He hadn’t heard that one in years.

Forrester helped his grandmother to sit. “Nonna, this is my friend Kyle. Kyle, this is my nonna.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kyle said.

“Ciao, Kyle.” The old woman pointed at the cannolis and said something in Italian. Everyone laughed.

“She can’t believe you’re eating the practice cannoli,” Forrester explained for Kyle.

“They’re not too bad.” Joey picked one up and took a bite, then mumbled around a mouthful, “You into cars, Kyle?”

“I love cars.”

“Did Frankie show you the Shelby? We got a GT350 Fastback with a K-code 289 big-block,” Joey said as Mrs. Giordano set a glass of milk in front of him. “Thanks, Mama.”

“No, I haven’t seen it.” Though he was more than curious to see such a rare and valuable car. And all original and one family owned? Talk about a white whale in the world of sports cars.

“After we eat, I’ll show you,” Joey said. “Maybe we’ll take it for a spin. Dino seems to think it’s his because he’s the oldest, but I got a set of keys too.”

“Not.” Forrester stretched his long torso out in the chair, seeming relieved to have a diversion from his mother. “The car is all of ours.”

“Actually, it’s my car,” Mrs. Giordano piped up.

“I wish I could afford a sweet ride. When I get in the union, I’m gonna get me something nice. The chicks love the Shelby, but I gotta share it.” Joey leaned in to whisper, “I bet you get a lot of pussy ’cause of that Challenger, don’t you?”

“Not as much as you think.” Kyle smothered the urge to laugh.

Joey studied him. “Where you from? You got an accent.”

Kyle chuckled, but Forrester slapped Joey’s arm. “Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“I’m deaf,” Kyle explained.

“Oh, sorry.” Joey took a huge swig of milk.

“How’s the new job?” Forrester asked.

“It sucks,” Joey replied, heedless of his milk mustache. “Detailing cars is a pain.”

“Better than getting arrested with Alfie,” Forrester countered.

Kyle looked at Forrester, curious what he was talking about. Then Nonna said something in Italian, and they all laughed.

Joey and Forrester had an easygoing rapport as they chatted about sports, bouncing in and out of Italian if Nonna joined in. Though Forrester nodded and agreed at the appropriate intervals, Kyle could tell his mind was elsewhere. Every time his mother moved, his eyes darted her way and stayed fixed until he assured himself she was all right.

The height of efficiency, Mrs. Giordano and Forrester had an entire dinner of spaghetti and meatballs prepared in less than thirty minutes. Forrester insisted he and Kyle set the table and she take a breather. The quintessential baby of the family, Joey waited for someone to serve him, which Kyle found amusing. Even Forrester didn’t seem to think his lack of help was out of place as he piled his brother’s plate with spaghetti and placed it in front of him.

“Thanks, Frankie,” he said, digging in while Forrester served everyone else.

Their family dynamic was one of love, camaraderie, and sarcasm, all mixed in at high volume and half in Italian. It was hard for Kyle to keep up. He had the distinct feeling that as quickly as they verbally snapped at one another, they would be even quicker to fiercely defend one of them.

Kyle hadn’t been in a setting like this in a long time, and it made him homesick—not that he had a family or home to be sick for anymore. Briefly the notion he could one day be a part of this family flitted through his mind. He didn’t allow himself to linger on the idea because it spoke to a place deep inside him he tried to ignore.

The need to have a family again.

Forrester had been talking about coming out the past few weeks, but Kyle wouldn’t push him. He wondered how differently today would’ve been had they known who Kyle really was and what they meant to each other. He took a glance around the modest kitchen. This home was not a showpiece—it was a home. He could imagine all the relatives Forrester spoke of wandering around, filling the house with happy chatter. If he tried hard enough, he could almost picture himself there with Forrester, exchanging Christmas gifts with his family.

He wanted it so damn badly his chest ached.

“You want one of your pills, Ma?” Forrester whispered as he set the pot of spaghetti back on the stove.

Mrs. Giordano nodded, and Forrester retrieved the bottle. The anesthesia had almost worn off, Kyle could tell, and the true extent of her pain finally registered with her. Standing by the sink, she seemed afraid to move because of it.

She accepted the pill and swallowed it with the coffee from earlier, then glanced over her shoulder where everyone else sat. Her gaze fell to Forrester’s untouched plate of spaghetti. “Why aren’t you eating, Frankie? Don’t you like it?”

“It’s fine, Ma.”

“Fine?” she repeated as if he had used a swear word. “What? You don’t like my sauce?”

“I like it.” He walked over and took an absurdly huge bite of pasta. “See? I like it,” he said around the mouthful.

“If you like it, why don’t you sit and eat?”

Hastily Kyle took a bite before she noticed he hadn’t eaten yet. His eyes widened in pleasure, and he pointed at the spaghetti with his fork. “You weren’t kidding. This is amazing. It’s way better than store-bought.”

Forrester’s grandmother said something in Italian.

“Don’t mention store-bought sauce in front of Nonna,” Joey warned him.

“Make sure you sop up the sauce with the bread. Like this.” Forrester stood behind him and reached over to soak a piece of bread in the sauce on Kyle’s plate before handing it to him.

“Yum,” he declared after biting into it.

“What’d I tell you? It’s good, right?” Forrester grinned and patted his shoulder, letting his hand glide down his arm as he sat. The gesture wasn’t any different than the brotherly way he hugged Joey, but the mere fact Forrester would touch him at all in front of family warmed Kyle’s insides.

By nature, Forrester was a toucher. He cuddled on the couch when they watched TV, held on to Kyle like a teddy bear as they slept. He always kissed and hugged him for no reason at all. Last week when they played darts at Reverends with Holly, Forrester had put his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her head as they waited their turn.

Yet despite his affectionate nature, a gay man who didn’t want anyone to know the guy sitting next to him was his lover usually went out of his way to never touch. Perhaps he hadn’t been thinking due to the stress of the afternoon or maybe, just maybe, Kyle had become as important to Forrester as his friends and family.

He couldn’t have wiped the smile off his face if he tried.

Mrs. Giordano looked at Kyle. “You’re a lawyer?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Are you single?”

“Ma,” Forrester warned.

“What?” she said. “Your cousins need to meet a nice guy.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Giordano.” Kyle glanced at Forrester as he added, “I’m seeing someone, and it’s pretty serious.”

Forrester shifted in his seat, suppressing a grin. Kyle couldn’t help smiling himself.

“It never hurts to have options,” Ma insisted. “I don’t see a wedding ring.”

Forrester scowled at his mother. “Jeez, why do you always have to set everybody up?”

“Better him than us, eh, Frankie?” Joey laughed.

“Oh, be quiet,” she told her youngest before turning back to Forrester. “You never had a friend I could fix up the girls with, besides that weird boy from the cartoon store.”

Forrester rolled his eyes. “Comics, Ma. They’re comic books, not cartoons. And you know his name is Lucas. You’ve only met him a million times.”

“Lucas’s mothers are lesbians,” she whispered as if it were a dirty word.

“So I’ve heard.” Kyle kept his reaction noncommittal, curious why she felt the need to mention that.

Joey laughed, spitting bits of breadcrumbs out as he talked. “They’re not the hot kind of lesbians either, Kyle. They’re those fat, ugly women who are only lesbians ’cause no man would go out with them.”

“Being gay is not a choice, Joey,” Kyle said without hesitation. “You don’t choose to be gay because you don’t have any other options. You are either born gay or you aren’t.”

“So they say,” Joey said with a disbelieving laugh.

Nonna said something in Italian, and Joey quickly said, “Scusa, Nonna.”

Kyle wondered what the old woman said but saw the relief on Forrester’s face.

“Love the sinner, hate the sin,” Mrs. Giordano intoned. “You shouldn’t be judging people, Giuseppe. Lord knows you do enough sinning of your own.”

Kyle looked at Forrester, but his face became completely expressionless at the backhanded insult. Hoping to change the subject, Kyle pushed his plate away. “If I eat another bite, I’ll slip into a food coma.”

Smiling, Mrs. Giordano stood and reached for Kyle’s empty plate.

He took it before she could. “Please, let me clean up. It’s the least I can do after such a wonderful dinner.”

“Thank you, Kyle.” She offered no argument like he’d expected. Her skin looked paler, and her brow was damp with sweat. Her pain had obviously increased. Kyle wondered how long she would keep up the act.

“No problem, Mrs. Giordano.”

“Ma, you okay?” Forrester asked, concerned.

“I think I might have food poisoning,” she said suddenly. Then she fled the kitchen. With a glance at Kyle, Forrester hurried after her.

She had taken a pain pill, but Kyle hadn’t seen her eat anything. It must not have sat well.

“How did Ma get food poisoning?” Joey asked Kyle.

He fell speechless under the piercing gazes of Nonna and Joey.

A cell phone rang.

Joey scooped up his phone, saying something in Italian to Nonna, then hurried away. “Hey, what’s up?” He stepped onto the back porch, leaving Kyle alone with her.

But Nonna was watching the doorway where Forrester and Mrs. Giordano had disappeared. Kyle wondered who Mrs. Giordano thought she was fooling, because it wasn’t the woman sitting across from him.

At that exact moment, Nonna shot Kyle a sharp look. “How long have you been dating my grandson?” she asked in perfect English.

Kyle blinked several times as his brain processed what her lips had said and what he’d heard.

His discombobulation seemed to amuse her, and she let out a soft snicker. “Oh, that boy’s not fooling me. And neither is his mother. What’s going on?”

“You know about Forrester?”

She smiled and patted him on the arm. “My Forrester and I knew all about Frankie. We never said anything because that son-in-law of mine was a bigot. Gave me four beautiful grandsons at least. Is Frankie good to you?”

“Yes, he’s wonderful.”

“Of course he is. He’s my sweet one. Giuseppe too.” Then she sobered in the sage way of ancient women. “Now tell me what’s going on with my daughter.”

Not wanting to get into trouble with either woman, Kyle shook his head and pointed at his ear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear your question.”

She scoffed, then opened her mouth to speak, but the sound of pounding footsteps on the stairs drew their attention.

Nonna gave Kyle a piercing glare, this one with a sharp edge of warning. “You say one word and you’ll regret it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Kyle couldn’t be sure, but he was pretty sure the woman was giving him the evil eye Forrester had warned him about.

Forrester joined them in the kitchen, mouthing to Kyle, “The pill upset her stomach.”

Nonna said something to Forrester in Italian, and he responded in kind. She said something else with more inflection, and Forrester shook his head. “No, I don’t know where Ma got food poisoning.”

Nonna scoffed and shook her head at Kyle.

Kyle wisely stayed quiet.