“Unfortunately, we can’t go back in time and ask him to do that, so as things are, what would make you less apprehensive?”
He growls in frustration. “I don’t know.” The words are terse, but they’re aimed at himself rather than me. “Maybe if I understood why they’re moving so fast. I know Mom is naturally impulsive, but I don’t see why they’re in a rush. Two weeks ago I didn’t know he existed, and now they’re planning an engagement party? I’ve got whiplash.”
I wriggle closer to him, offering what comfort I can, and enjoy the way his arm firms around my waist. “Have you thought about talking to your mom? I’m sure she’d be open to discussing it with you.”
I expect him to dismiss the suggestion, but to my surprise, he seems to consider it. “Maybe. I haven’t said anything yet because I didn’t want to upset her, but I think she’d be more upset if she knew I was secretly stressing out.”
“Exactly.” I smile. “Give it a try and see how it goes. She loves you, and your approval probably means something to her.”
He kisses my forehead, and butterflies cluster in my stomach. There’s a new ease between us and a sense of intimacy we haven’t previously had, but we haven’t discussed what it means. I’m trying not to worry. All I need to know for certain is Tony sees me—really sees me—and appreciates the way I am. Anything else can come later.
Chapter Seven
Tony
When I wake the following morning—from a surprisingly good sleep despite the pain in my shoulder—I’m more emotionally balanced than yesterday. I dress in sweatpants and a T-shirt and open the curtains in the main bedroom. The view of the beach is stunning, with a few glimmers of gold on the water and pink streaks in the sky above it. I soak in the serenity for a few moments, listening to the gurgle of waves on the sand and watching the seabirds soar on a light breeze.
Last night, I decided I’d call Mom today. I’d expected to feel more nervous about it, but find I’m at peace with my choice. I sit on the edge of the bed, tap Mom’s number on my cell phone, and wait for the call to connect.
“Tony!” she exclaims. “You’ve caught me just before work.”
Oops. I’d forgotten about work and the time zone difference between us. I guess I’ve started to take the relaxed pace of beach life for granted. “Do you have a minute for a quick chat?”
She scoffs. “I always have time for my children.”
“Thanks.” For all that she’s a hurricane of a woman, she is a loving and devoted mother. “I just want to say that I’m happy for you, and I’d like to hear more about Kevin. I want to get to know him if he’s going to be an important part of your life.”
“Ourlives,” she corrects. “But yes, I understand your meaning. If you suddenly had a fiancée, I’d be curious about her.” She makes a sound of displeasure. “But darling, you were the one who took yourself off to Massachusetts. If you’d stayed here, Kevin and I could have visited every night to check on you, and you’d have had plenty of opportunity to get to know him better.”
She has a point. But perhaps part of the reason I was so eager to leave is I didn’t want to spend more time with Kevin. I’d hoped if I buried my head in the sand, he might vanish. But clearly that wasn’t the right approach.
“I know. But will you tell me more about him anyway?”
“Yes.” She’s unusually quiet for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “He’s an accountant. I met him during a business meeting at Moretti’s.” Moretti’s is the Italian diner where Mom works as a cook. “He has two sons around your age. He’s lovely, Tony.” She sighs happily, and I feel bad for being a cynic. “He opens doors for me and listens to what I have to say. He’s a gentleman. I didn’t think I’d ever find one of those, but somehow I have. He likes to cook too. We’ve been teaching each other recipes. And he has a gorgeous dog.”
I grin at the thought of Mom with a dog. She’s never been the type for pets. But then my smile fades. What if the dog becomes a bone of contention for them? You never know what might cause problems. Overlooking a potential issue when it arises is another pattern of hers.
“I assume he’s divorced,” I say, getting back on track. Something obviously wasn’t right with perfect Kevin, or he’d still be with his ex.
“He’s a widower.” Mom’s voice is soft and a little sad. “He loved his late wife very much. She died of cancer five years ago.”
“That must have been awful.” Once again, I feel like a jerk for making assumptions.
“Yes.” She draws in a shuddering breath. “We’ve talked about it a lot. He has photos of her around the house.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“Why would it?” She honestly sounds confused. “She was an important part of his life, and he loved her with all his heart. I would never interfere with him remembering her the way she deserves to be. The fact he loved her doesn’t mean he can’t love me too.” Her tone turns chiding. “The human heart has an infinite capacity for love. He can love both of us, the same way I have enough love for you and your sisters. There is no limit.”
“Love you, Mamma.” This conversation hasn’t gone the way I intended, but I can’t bring myself to regret it. She’s said things I needed to hear. “We should get together for a meal when I’m back in the city.”
“I’d like that.” There’s warmth in her voice, and I’m glad I’ve made an effort to reach out.
“Goodbye. Have a nice day.”
“Ciao.” She ends the call.
I slip the phone into my pocket and head to the living area. Lucia is sitting on the sofa, her laptop on her knees, totally engrossed. I walk past her to the kitchen, and she doesn’t seem to notice. For once, the story seems to be coming easily to her, and I don’t want to interrupt, so I leave her to it and prepare a batch of coffee. While the coffee is brewing, I search the cupboards for a waffle iron, pleased when I find one. I mix together ingredients for basic waffles and locate maple syrup in the pantry and bacon in the refrigerator. I add a few strips of bacon to a frying pan and serve two mugs of coffee. Then, when the waffle iron is hot, I pour batter in and wait for it to cook.
