"Behind your wife?"
"Behind my very brave, slightly insane wife, yes."
Nonno motioned toward Quentin. "You're the groom?"
"Yes, sir."
"You married my Julia?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well." Nonno extended a shaking hand. "Congratulations. She's a pistol, that one."
"Poor word choice, Nonno," Vinny muttered.
Quentin slowly came out from behind me and shook Nonno's hand. "Thank you, sir."
"You take good care of her, or you’ll answer to me. Got that?"
"Yes sir."
"If you don't, I'll—" Nonno paused. "What was I going to do?"
"Shoot him," someone supplied helpfully.
"No!" Carlo said sharply. "You were going to give them your blessing."
"I was?" Nonno considered this. "Okay. I give you my blessing. Now where's my cake?"
"They haven't served it yet, Mr. Nico," the nurse said. "That's what they were doing when you—when you interrupted."
"Oh." Nonno looked embarrassed. "Sorry."
"It's fine," I said.
"I love cake."
"I know you do."
Carlo caught my eye and mouthed:Send him home.
I nodded.
"Nonno." I knelt beside him. “How about we get you a big piece of cake to take home? You can have it in your comfortable chair, watch your shows."
He let out a breath and nodded. "That sounds good. I can’t see that well anymore, and this chair is hurting my back."
"Then let's get you home." Vinny signaled to the nurse. "We'll wrap up a huge piece."
"Two pieces," Nonno negotiated.
"Three pieces," I offered. "Because you look so handsome in your suit."
"You're a good girl, Julia.”
"Yes, Nonno."
The nurse began to wheel him toward the exit while Vinny hurried to get the cake.
