Chapter Twenty-Eight
“I’d like to go to Brooklyn. See my family. I haven’t really told them what’s been happening, not only with us, but with the job.” We’d left the meeting and were outside, having said good-bye to Presley.
“You sound as though you’re asking my permission.”
Frisco had been in a strange mood since his confession earlier. I couldn’t imagine what it had taken to get him to open up like that, but sometimes it happened. All you needed was that one tiny push to unlock the floodgates.
“Not your permission. I’m making conversation. Letting you know what I plan on doing for the rest of the evening since it’s only seven thirty. Are you coming with me?”
“Are you asking me to?”
He stood with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, his face grim, half in the shadows of the burgeoning night sky.
I put my hand on his arm. “Of course I want you there. What’s wrong? Was the meeting too intense?”
He grimaced and turned away from me, his profile stark and harsh in the gray light. “I didn’t expect to speak, but when I started, it was like I became a different person and couldn’t stop. And now…I feel empty.” His head bowed. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, please.”
I realized that was how Frisco dealt with his problems. By not dealing with them. But with him so raw from the discussion, I wouldn’t push.
“Then we won’t. I’m going to text my mom and tell her we’re coming. I know she’ll be happy.” I took my phone out from my jacket pocket and sent her a quick message.
He slanted me a look, and I caught the semblance of a smile. “We arenottaking the train. I refuse.”
I patted his cheek. “Okay. You win.”
Smiling broadly now and looking like his old self, he pulled out his phone and called for a car. “I always do.”
An hour later, after first making a quick stop at Frisco’s apartment to pick up the clothes he’d bought me, we were walking up the steps of the townhouse when Frisco paused and put his hand on my arm. “Are we telling your mother? That we’re together, I mean. I’ve never done this meet-the-parents thing, so I don’t know what I’m doing.”
I thought it was sweet to see the normally self-assured Frisco a little off-center. “I have a feeling she’ll guess. And if you don’t want to make any announcement, so to speak, we don’t have to. It’ll happen one way or another. Especially when you start spending more time here and staying the night.”
His gaze smoldered as it raked over me. “And I am. Staying the night.”
I kissed him. “Of that I had no doubt.”
When we walked inside the house, the aroma of garlic and other delicious smells hit my nose, and I sniffed. “Yep. She knows. She’s been cooking.”
“Torre, is that you?” I heard her call from the back of the house, followed by quick steps on the hardwood floor. “We’re all in here.”
“Who’s ‘all’?” Frisco muttered.
“The usual suspects. Everyone you met the other night when you came.”
“Seems like forever since then, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. Or no time at all.”
He took my hand and squeezed it, and my heart did a funny flip. The vulnerable side of Frisco had come as a shock initially, but now I understood a bit more of his makeup.
“Every minute with you is special.”
He squeezed my hand again, and together we joined everyone congregated in the family room. As predicted, my aunts and uncles were there, and Val and Tina, but I didn’t see Mike. My mother, smiling away, rushed up to us and gave us both huge hugs. She held onto Frisco’s shoulder.
“I’m so happy to see you again. And I hope you’re hungry. I made tons of food.”
“Mom, where’s Mike?”
Her smile faded, her eyes growing dark. “He’s still at Mangia. I’m so worried about him.” Her gaze shifted to Val, and then she pulled me aside. Frisco, of course, followed. “He’s working too hard and all these crazy hours. He doesn’t get to spend time with his family anymore. I thought it would become easier, but he refuses to slow down. I swear, sometimes I wish he’d never gotten those good reviews. What good is success if you can’t enjoy it and share it with your family?”
