She steers me inside the white marble foyer and takes my coat off, then interrogates me about religion because I dared mention the wreath.
"Are you Christian?" She raises a brow, skeptical already.
"Eh no, not exactly religious," I admit, since I'm not supposed to lie. "I believe in order, maybe fate. Mostly the cosmos. Stars fascinate me."
"Ah. Same thing," Carmela declares swiftly, a slight disappointment in her voice. "Different name for God. You believe in horoscopes?"
I cringe. "Hate to admit it, but yes. Secretly, not so secretly."
"It's okay. Nonna believed that crap, too. Read my horoscope every week. Never once came true." She waves her hand. "Come. Come. Amaretti are fresh."
"First, we wash our hands," Ben interrupts, dragging me to the guest bathroom like a delinquent child. The faucet's already running.
I pout. "Why? I only touched your hand."
His smile turns wicked. "That hand's been very dirty these last two weeks."
I slap my hand over his mouth before his mother hears.
His eyes widen, and I can tell he's going through his whole mental germ list that just touched his lips.
"You're a menace." His lips glisten because he actually soaped them. Then he gives me a sharp look. "Wash your hands. Now."
"Wash your hands. Now," I echo in a pompous baritone, making a face in the mirror. "I'm Dr. Bellini. I have a stethoscope and a God complex."
He fixes me with deadly stare. "I'll enjoy the check-up on you later. Make sure it stings. A lot." He leaves me with those words and strides out.
When I step into the kitchen, it's lively.
Dino shouts, "Benito! Scopa! Antonio's cheating again." They clap each other on the back, all testosterone.
Then Dino sees me, and his hands fly open like he's been waiting for this moment. "Bomba d'amore!"
I bite my lip. "That sounds explosive. Not sure I should be proud of that."
"Be proud! Your heart's Italian." Dino laughs and hugs me warmly. "My Lucia once climbed a balcony in Venice just to slap me for flirting with her cousin. One week later—married." He snaps his finger.
Carmela's eye-roll could register on the Richter scale.
"Dio mio, everything with him is drama. Don't listen. She married him because he stalked her bakery like a stray dog. Like a—" She gives a spinning hand gesture. "A creep!"
I bite my cheek so I don't laugh but Carmela is funny.
Antonio emerges next, sweater red as Dino's, like they're a matching set. He crushes me in a hug. "You play Scopa?"
"Eeeh. No. Sorry."
"Come, I teach you, so you can lose to me properly."
"Papà, let Emma breathe." Mara floats in, her pink dress swishing, bow outrageous, smelling of sugared violets.
She pulls me in, kisses both cheeks, glowing as always. "Bomba d'amore, ciao babe."
I hadn't seen her since her wedding. She and Paul vanished into their honeymoon and only came back three days ago, so I sent her a dozen apology texts for my little fiasco.
She puts a hand on my shoulder. "Before you say a word—we loved it. Even Paul's parents keep talking about your kiss. It's a highlight of their life. More than our wedding, probably."
Paul's right behind her with cards fanned against his chest, both of them smiling. "Yeah. I told my Spice Queen how come she never claimed me like that."
