The door opens and Livia appears. Ben’s grandmother. Isotta’s mother. She’s got that old-world Italian elegance that makes me feel like I showed up to a wedding in sweatpants.
“Marco.” She kisses both his cheeks. Then her judging eyes land on me. “Jessica.”
Not Jess. Not J. Jessica. Said as if she there’s a bug in her mouth and my name is the bug.
Cool.
“Good morning, Mrs. Caldarelli.” I try for warm and professional even though I’m pretty sure she can smell the sex on me from last night. Or maybe that’s just my paranoia talking.
Actually, it’s definitely paranoia. I showered. Twice. And I’m wearing a turtleneck sweater to hide the hickeys on my neck, even though it’s a fairly hot day.
“Ben is finishing her breakfast,” Livia says, stepping aside to let us in. “Enzo made her specialsfogliatelle.”
The conceited way she says sfogliatellejust makes me cringe. Seriously, I want to swear off that particular pastry for the rest of my life, thanks to her. Too bad Ben likes them so much. Says they remind her of ‘snail shells,’ which make sense, considering they’re vaguely shell shaped, though more of a flat clam shell than a spiraling snail shell.
Inside, the house smells like butter and powdered sugar. Reminds me of the cloying scent of bakeries. It’s actually kind of... homely, to be honest.
We follow Livia to the kitchen where Ben’s at the table with pastry crumbs on her face and Frederick propped in the chair beside her.
“Daddy! Jess!” She launches herself at us. I catch her mid-air while Marco steadies us both.
I quickly blink away tears.
When you realize you’ve become part of a unit without actually trying.
“Hey sweet girl.” I set her down and brush crumbs off her navy jumper. “Did you have fun with Nonna and Nonno?”
“Somuchfun!” She’s bouncing enthusiastically now. “We made seventeensfogliatelleand I only ate four. Maybe five. Frederick ate one, too.”
“Frederick’s very brave,” I tell her seriously.
Enzo appears from the bakery side of the house. He’s got flour in his hair and that warmenergy that makes you want to hug him. Unlike his wife, he actually smiles when he sees me.
“Jessie!” he says. “You take good care of our girl this weekend, yes?”
“Always,” I promise.
Livia makes a small sound. Not quite disapproval, but not quite approval either.
Just.
A sound.
Marco’s already moving toward Ben’s overnight bag. All business. “We should get going. Want to beat traffic.”
“Of course.” Livia’s watching me now. Staring at me, basically. “Jessica, a word?”
Oh no.
This is where she tells me to stay away from her son-in-law.
Or calls me a gold digger.
Or both.
Here we go.
I follow her into the hallway while Marco helps Ben into her coat. The whole time, Marco keeps giving his mother-in-law suspicious looks until we’re finally out of view.
