“Are you and Uncle Joel fighting again?”
“No.”Not exactly. “We don’t fight.”
She rolls her eyes as she opens the back door of the truck. “Sure you don’t.”
Bailey and Chloe climb out of the other side and I step out. “We’re too grown for fighting.”
Abi turns as she climbs the stairs, hand on the rail—that I still haven’t made it over here to fix, dammit—and glares at me dubiously. “I heard men’s brains don’t develop until they’re in their forties.”
I point one finger at her, trying not to laugh. “That’s not accurate. Don’t believe everything you read online.”
Mom opens the door just as the girls get to the landing, ushering each of them inside. She wraps one arm around my waist as I reach her on the threshold. The tantalizing aroma of garlic bread greets me and my mouth starts to water.
“Xander and Teddy will be here next week with the kids,” she says, leading me into the kitchen.
Joel is leaning against the kitchen counter, head down, phone in hand. His head pops up and he grins. “He is alive. Was starting to wonder.”
I flip him off and he pretends to catch it, stuffing his closed fist in the front pocket of his jeans.
“Thanks, I’ll save this for later.”
“Boys…” my mother warns, sighing and shaking her head.
“What’s for dinner tonight Nonna?” Bailey asks, stepping up to the counter.
“Lasagna, salad, and garlic bread,” my mother says, following Bailey to the counter where a glass baking dish is full to the brim with a homemade lasagna. The cheese is still bubbling, like she just pulled it out of the oven. “Just waiting on the garlic breadto toast up a bit in the oven. Hope you’re all hungry. Girls, why don’t you get started on setting the table?”
Taking a couple beers out of the fridge by the necks, I hand one to Joel and then pop off the cap as the girls get to work setting the table. Grumbling around a swallow of beer, “Why do they help here without whining but at home they act like I’ve asked them to do something to personally ruin their lives?”
“Because taking out the garbage would be the worst thing to happen,” Joel chuckles. “Don’t you remember arguing about doing chores as a kid? Or have you just been a grumpy stick in the mud since you were in diapers?”
“Boys,” Mom warns again, glaring at us over her shoulder as she takes the garlic bread out of the oven. The tinfoil the loaf is wrapped in crackles metallically as she opens it, and the delicious scent gets stronger. My stomach growls. She eyes me. “Do you not feed yourself?”
“Nah, he just has the gorgeous new neighbor come over and cook for him,” Joel mutters under his breath behind his beer, and once again I have the urge to kick his feet out from under him.
“Oh? New neighbor?” Mom asks, glancing between us before landing on me. “She’s been over?”
I glare at Joel before answering. “She watched the girls the other night when we had that big apartment fire and you were out of town. She stayed until I was up and moving the next morning, and yes, she fed the girls.”
“And us.” Joel adds, grinning. Goddamn this motherfucker. “She made sure to feed both of us, too.”
“I’m going to kill you,” I mouth over to him behind Mom’s back as she slices the loaf of garlic bread on a cutting board. “Slowly.”
“Well, I think it’s great that you’re finally out there meeting someone new,” Mom says, nodding as she focuses on her task.“You’ll bring her to family dinner next week when Xander and Teddy are home, yes?”
“Mom, it’s not like that, she—”
“Hey, what Mom wants, she gets, right?” Joel asks, stepping over to Mom and sliding one arm over her shoulder and squeezing. “So you’ll bring Lou to family dinner.”
“What I wantis for all of my boys to find someone nice and settle down,” she grumbles, looking up at Joel pointedly. She uses her knife to point at him, “Sometimes I think you’ll never settle down.ButI thought the same thing about Xander and look at him now. So, I guess if there was someone out there that could win over his heart, there must be someone out there for you, too.”
“Wow, thanks Mom,” he laughs, feigning hurt. “That’s the most inspirational thing I’ve ever heard.”
I’m trying—and failing—to hide the laugh that’s shaking my shoulders when she turns and points that knife at me, too. I hold up my hands wide in surrender, laughing out loud this time. “What did I do?”
Her lips thin and she narrows her eyes at me. “You’ve been alone for too long.”
“I’ve been married for ten years!” I argue, still laughing.
