She cackled, clearly delighted, and gestured toward the back of the house. “Let’s go into the kitchen. I have coffee and treats for your men.”
Max and I took our jackets off and left them on the hooks with Luca’s, then followed the two mischief makers. Max took my hand and squeezed. I smiled at him. He still looked nervous, but he was relaxing slowly.
The kitchen had clearly been renovated in recent years. I realized that what we’d seen of the three-story house, little as that was, seemed to be in great condition.
“Sit, sit,” she said, gesturing at the small kitchen table. “How do you boys take your coffee?”
“I can make it,” Luca said. “I know their preferences and if I don’t make myself a small cup, one of them will drink theirs black so I can have some.”
“Aww,” Stefania cooed. “Well, then. How do we feel about biscotti and lemon cookies? Because I have both.” She moved a plate of goodies to the table while Luca worked a coffee machine.
“Those smell amazing,” Max said, his expression almost begging her to like his words.
My brother was so damn sensitive and eager to please. I hated that it all came from never really being accepted by anyone before Brodie came back into our lives.
“Thank you, dear.” She took a seat across from us and let Luca wait on us all. “I like to batch bake cookies. I always have some at hand.”
“I appreciate the scent of the biscotti even though I can’t eat them anymore,” Luca said as he moved the coffee to the table. “And the strong, Italian coffee.” He smiled as he sat next to his grandma.
She leaned to his shoulder, and the love between them was palpable. Gods what I would’ve given to have an elder like that in my life at any point.
“So, you got very ill. Didn’t tell your poor nonna. Then you got yourself saved, and still didn’t tell your nonna the whole truth. All the while I was thinking that you were just sad about losing Will, but….” She picked up her coffee and raised an eyebrow at him.
“Should we be here for this conversation?” I asked, grinning as I picked up a cookie.
“You’ve chosen to hitch your wagon to him, so yes,” she replied, her eyes twinkling with humor. “Also, this Rian? He seems lovely. A good man. I would love to pick his brain about some European history sometime.”
“I will let him know. I’ll have him visit the next time he’s in New York,” Luca promised, and I knew Rian would come over without question.
“How have you been, tesoro?” she asked then, taking Luca’s hand.
He smiled, then looked at Max and me over the table. “I’ve been so good.”
“Good.” She kissed the back of his hand. “That’s all I want to hear.” She took a sip of her coffee, then added, “And that daughter of mine? Well she’s a bigot and a speciesist, and I do not tolerate that in this house. All I want is everyone to be alive and happy, and you’ve succeeded in that.”
“Thank you, Nonna.” A brief sadness at the mention of his mother flashed through Luca’s expression.
Max and I both reached for his hand at the same time. Instead of one of us pulling away, we joined our hands and held onto him for a moment.
Stefania wiped her cheek. “Mannaggia. I tried not to cry and now you’re being like… like this.” She gestured at our hands.
We chuckled together. I practically felt Max relaxing completely next to me. I tapped my shoe to his. He tapped mine back.
Luca, hearing the quiet sound, smiled and squeezed our fingers harder for a moment. Then he picked up his coffee and took a sip.
“Oh this is so gooood,” he groaned out the words. “I really need to get some to take home.”
Stefania made eye contact at me and raised her brows, then looked at Luca. “Home, huh?”
He smiled. “Yeah. I… yeah.”
“I’m so happy,” she whispered and squeezed him briefly.
“So, what can you tell us about baby Luca?” Max asked, and I knocked my shoe against his again.
Chapter Thirteen
Luca
