“Mom!” Alicia squeals, launching herself off the couch the moment she appears with a luggage cart.
I jump to my feet, my chest swelling with a rush of relief and happiness. When I reach them, I pull Mom and Alicia into a tight hug, the three of us clinging to each other all at once. When we pull back, Mom cups our faces, studying us.
“My God, I missed you so much,” she says, her eyes shining. “Even talking every day wasn’t enough.”
Then she studies Alicia more closely and laughs. “And you... you’ve gotten taller.”
“Is there a hug left for your brother,” Uncle Mark calls from behind me, “or do I need to take a number?”
Mom laughs and pulls him in next. Uncle Mark closes his eyes as he wraps her up in one of those extra-long hugs.
“You’re glowing,” he says, then leans back with a grin.
“Don’t start,” Mom laughs, swatting at his arm.
“Mom,” Alicia says, staring at the luggage. “You left with one suitcase and came back with four!”
Mom chuckles and slips an arm around her shoulders. “Gifts. For all of you. And most of them are from Alexander’s family.”
There’s no missing the change in her voice. The way her whole face lights up when she says his name. I really want her happy... I just don’t want her broken again.
A hand squeezes my shoulder. I look over to find Uncle Mark.
“You don’t have to carry this,” he says. “You focus on college. I’ve got your mom and your sister. And you. Always.”
I nod, the knot in my chest easing just a little.
“No wonder it took so long to clear you,” Uncle Mark says with a laugh. “You brought half of Italy home in that suitcase.”
Mom tosses a package at him and he catches it mid-air, laughing.
We’re sprawled in the living room with three suitcases open on the floor, clothes and boxes everywhere. Alicia is in heaven, tearing through everything Mom brought back and squealing over every new thing.
“I brought stuff for you too, ungrateful child,” Mom tells Uncle Mark. “The Santoros sent gifts for you as well.”
“Oh yeah?” he grins. “And what exactly have you been telling them about me?”
“That you’re the brother life gave me,” she says without missing a beat. “And that I love you, even if you’re impossible sometimes.”
“You could’ve at least smuggled back a hot Italian date for me in one of those suitcases.”
That gets a laugh out of her. “Speaking of that... one of Alexander’s cousins started following you on Instagram after I showed him your picture. But don’t worry, I told him you weren’t available.”
“What is this,” Uncle Mark groans, “sabotage?”
“He’s not your type,” Mom says, scrolling on her phone before showing him the screen.
He studies it for a second. “Okay... he’s cute. But way too young. How old is he, twenty-three?”
“Twenty-five.”
“I’m not in the business of raising anyone’s kids,” he says, already digging into his gift.
Mom shrugs and says, “I told you he wasn’t your type. I know you’re not a cradle robber.”
We keep going for a while, opening gifts and laughing as we listen to Mom tell story after story about Italy, Alexander, and his family.
And with every sentence, with every smile... I know Mom’s friend is no longer just a friend.
