Noah mussed Jake’s hair and stepped in to greet Angela’s grandparents.
Nonno and Nonna—Tomaso and Maria Russo—were talking to Angela, but when Maria spotted Noah, she immediately pulled him into a hug.
“Noah! Every time I see you, you get more handsome.” Her voice was smoky, her English flawless, though every word ended with a consonant so heavy it nearly became a vowel again. Maria was short and plump, like Angela, with curly white hair piled high on her head. Her face was lined and suntanned, but her hands were strong as she pulled his face down to kiss his blushing cheeks.
“Every time I see you, you get more beautiful,” he said in response. Granted, he hadn’t seen her since the wedding, but she looked lively and happy and every bit how he’d imagined Angela looking as they grew old together.
Maria let out a musical laugh and swatted his chest. “How was the trip up? Any problems with the barca?” She shook her head. “The ferry?”
“No, it was great,” Noah said. “We actually ran into an old friend of mine. Ramin?”
Ramin had tucked himself into a corner, where he was looking over a wall of bottles, a look of pure awe on his face.
“Huh?” Ramin blinked and shook himself. He approached, a shy smile making his dimples pop. “Sorry. Your store is beautiful. I was just looking at all the Gaja you have.”
Nonna’s limpid blue eyes lit up. “Oh, a man who knows his wine!”
Ramin offered a hand to shake, but Nonna pulled him in and kissed both cheeks. Ramin kissed back, like he’d done it a million times.
“I try.”
“Allora, let’s open a bottle.” Maria dragged Ramin back toward the shelf.
“Nonna, we’re supposed to go have lunch!” Angela called.
Maria waved her free hand, swatting the complaint away.
Noah had never been able to derail Angela’s plans so smoothly. Angela shot him a look, but he just shrugged and joined Maria and Ramin.
“I don’t want to be any trouble,” Ramin said.
“It’s no trouble.” Maria glanced along the rows of bottles, each withGAJAin white block letters at the top of the label. “Noah’s family, which makes you family.”
Noah’s chest warmed, and he looked away to hide his blush. Sometimes it annoyed him how much Angela took her family for granted, when Noah’s own was a toxic mess.
“Tomaso! Portaci i calici!” Maria shouted at Tomaso, who was nodding along at a story Jake was telling. “And some chips!”
Tomaso was nearly as tall as Noah, though age had stooped him just a bit. He had kind brown eyes with little baggies under them that gave his whole face a friendly, slightly befuddled aspect. Or maybe it was his bushy dark eyebrows, which were still jet black despite his wild silver hair.
He set five glasses atop one of the wooden barrels that served as tables and pulled Noah into a hug. He smelled like musk and Irish Spring.
“What’re you opening, Maria?”
“Noah’s friend wants to try the 2016 Conteisa.”
Ramin squeaked—actually squeaked—and shot Noah a panicked look, but Noah just shrugged as Angela brought Jake over. With practiced grace, Maria cut the foil and began opening the wine, but as she levered the cork out, it broke in half.
“Ah! Tomaso, grab another?”
“Please, it’s fine! I don’t mind,” Ramin said.
“Nonsense. Don’t worry, we’ll try this one later. Maybe it’s still good.”
Ramin gave another one of those squeaks. Noah pressed his lips together to hold in his laugh.
Nonno swapped out the half-opened bottle for a fresh one. This one, Nonna opened with no problem.
While she poured the inky purple wine, Angela caught Noah’s eye with aLet’s talklook. He sidled away while Jake tucked himself between Nonna and Ramin. He looked right at home.
