He looks at me. At Nonna. At our joined hands. "What news?"
"I've invited Nonna to come live with us after we're married!"
Complete silence.
Santino's face goes blank. Just completely blank. Like his brain has stopped processing information.
His mother's eyes go wide. His father leans forward in his chair.
"Isn't that wonderful?" I continue. "She shouldn't be alone in the guest house. She should be with family! With us!"
"Liana—" Santino starts.
"I know, I know, you're probably so happy you didn't think of it yourself." I beam at him. "But that's okay! I thought of it!And Nonna and I have been talking, and she's so lovely, and I just think it would be perfect."
"Liana." His voice is strained. "Can I talk to you for a moment? In private?"
"Of course!" I turn to Nonna. "We'll be right back!"
He practically drags me into the hallway. The moment we're alone, he turns on me.
"What are you doing?"
"What do you mean?" I blink innocently. "I'm helping. I love her. She’s great and reminds me of my grandmother who passed away."
"Helping." He runs a hand through his hair. "You just invited my ninety-two-year-old grandmother to live with us."
"Yes! Isn't it great?"
"No. It's not great." He's trying to keep his voice down. "Liana, newlyweds don't live with their grandmothers."
"Why not? If she needs care—"
"She has care. She has a caretaker. She has her own house."
"But she's alone at night. That's sad."
"She's fine. She's been alone for years."
"And that's terrible!" I put my hand on his arm. "Santo, she's your grandmother. Don't you want her to be comfortable? Cared for? Loved?"
"Of course I do, but—"
"Then what's the problem?" I tilt my head. "Unless you don't want her living with us?"
It's a trap. A beautiful trap.
If he says no, he looks like a terrible grandson. If he says yes, he gets his grandmother as a roommate.
He lets out a long sigh. "It's not that simple."
"It seems simple to me." I smile. "You love your grandmother. I love old people. We have plenty of space. It's perfect." In reality, I wouldn’t mind at all if she moved in, if our marriage was real. Which it won’t be.
"Liana—"
"Unless..." I let my smile fade. "Unless you don't think I'm capable of taking care of her?"
"That's not what I—"
