I sigh and cross my arms. “I’m looking for 2847 Primrose Lane. Is this it?”
His smirk falters. “Nah, this is 2847 Primrose Court. Lane is like two streets over. People mix ‘em up all the time.”
Why the fuck would they name them like that?
“Court? Shit,” I mumble. “I’m sorry but I need to rescue my boyfriend from your family.”
I gesture toward the dining room, where Damon is being accosted by no less than three women of varying ages. Vinny shrugs. “Looks like he’s doing fine to me.”
“Look, I?—”
“Ah, Vin, there you are!” Frank spots his son and walks over, holding a freshly poured glass of red wine. “You didn’t say you invited a girl! Your Ma wouldda gotten out the good plates.”
The teenage girl follows sans baby, giving me a look of solidarity. “I can’t believe you two… Dumb and dumber, I swear.”
“Hey! Mouth like a trucker on this one,” Frank says, with a drop of wine dribbling down his lip.
“You looking for Lane?” she asks.
“Yes. We got the wrong address.”
She smiles. “Happens every few months. Whoever named these roads were—” Frank’s brow shoots up and the girl doesn’t finish her thought.
“Let me get your boyfriend before Nonna ropes him into joining us for midnight mass.”
I laugh, just picturing that. “Thank you, and I’m so sorry for the confusion.”
“No worries.” She starts heading toward the dining room, then pauses. “What’s your name, by the way?”
“Blake.”
“I’m Sofia. Nice to meet you, even if it was an accident.” She grins and disappears into the crowd.
While she gets Damon, I pull out my phone to check the time. 8:24 PM. My stomach squeezes… It’s been in knots all night butwe didn’t need this delay. We’re supposed to be at the actual address at 8:30, and we still need to find it, park, and get into position.
A text comes through from an unknown number.
Unknown: Dr. Hyland, confirming your arrival at 8:30. 2847 Primrose Lane. Please don’t be late.
Shit. We need to go.
I’m about to push my way through the crowd to get Damon myself when Nonna materializes in front of me like a tiny garlic-scented ghost.
“Sofia said you’re leaving?” She looks genuinely upset, with her hunched shoulders and wide eyes. “But you didn’t eat anything!”
“I’m sorry, it smells delicious and I’d love to but we have to?—”
“No, no, no.” She grabs my arm with a death grip. What is it with this family and their hand strength? “You came all the way here on Christmas Eve. You can’t go out into the night air without eating. You’ll starve! Frank!” She turns and hollers. “Get them plates!”
Vinny’s back. “Nonna, they said they have the wrong house?—”
“So? They’re here now! And look at her—” She gestures toward me. “She’s so skinny! When’s the last time you ate?”
“This afternoon?—”
“This afternoon!” She looks horrified, like I just confessed to murdering the family pet. “Frank, did you hear? This afternoon! The poor girl is starving!”
“We’re not starving, really—” I try, but she’s already dragging me toward the dining table.
