I glance down at the timer and warn. “You have eleven minutes.”
A look of sheer determination comes across her face. “I’ve done more with less,” before sprinting for the door.
Once I hear the pad of her feet up the stairs, I bury my face in my hands. “I feel all of sixteen again.”
“Your taste wasn’t as good at sixteen.”
My head snaps up in surprise. “You’ve talked with her once.”
“And chatted with Vinnie.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
My mother stands and moves around the counter to pour her own coffee. “She’s lovely, Troy. Intelligent. Insightful.”
“You got all of that from a ten-minute conversation?”
“Plus from reading about her work online.”
“Let me guess, you also read other things.”
She shrugs. “When a woman has survived public speculation the way she did, and is still full of grace, I’m not worried about her being good enough for my son.”
“Thanks, Mama.”
“I’m worried about my son being good enough for her.”
Shock rips through me. She pats my cheek like I’m twelve again. “Don’t ruin this one,figlio mio.”
Before I can express my outrage, the door flies open behind me. An entirely different Maya appears. The sight hits me like a punch to the chest.
Gone are my old cut-off shorts and sweatshirt. Now, she’s sporting a cashmere v-neck sweater paired with dark-wash jeans, and ballet flats. Her face looks freshly washed, and she has twisted her hair up in a clip. Smugly, she snatches up her coffee and takes a drink. “With a minute to spare.”
My mother shoots me a smile—soft, knowing, and more than a little smug. Before I can say a word, Zia Vinnie opens the side door after her habitual morning walk. “Ah, breakfast.Perfetto.”
I quickly serve up the casserole. During the meal, my mother behaves—mostly. She lets me limit the conversation to how her trip with my father was and what’s been happening on theproperty. Vinnie’s chimed in a few times about gossip in town and local happenings.
Maya mostly stayed silent. Observing with her keen photographer's eye the interaction between the family.
Still, it wasn’t too long of an inquisition I had to endure before my mother and Vinnie stand and walk around the table to give me warm hugs goodbye—leaving me with the dishes; I note grouchily. With a wink in Maya’s direction, my mother remarks, “Next time, I’ll knock first,” before breezing out the door.
I’m afraid to assess the damage my mother left in her wake when I hear a giggle behind me. I whip around in shock to find Maya biting back her laughter. “So… that was your mom?”
I sigh, knowing my ears are going to burn all day because my mother and aunt will be gossiping about me and Maya. “Yeah. And congratulations.”
“For what?”
“Judging by how my mother treated you, she has officially baptized you into the family. Honestly, I’m impressed that you weren’t embarrassed to be caught in my clothes.
If no one has proven it’s possible to choke on thin air from wheezing in embarrassment, Maya is doing an exceptional job of contributing to medical knowledge because of it. I whack at her back a few times before she shouts, “I’m fine.”
I pull her close. “It’s okay. You’re part of the family now.”
“Well, this part of the family is going to go take a shower. I can still feel you between my legs.” She breezes out the door, leaving me standing there, jaw dropped like a damn rookie.
Yeah, forget cleaning the kitchen. I race off after her.
28
