“Are we having our first fight already?”
In spite of myself, I laugh. “No, man. Shiton my mind. What’s up?”
“We need food. I’m helping the team bring inthe furniture and shit. Stop at some supermarket and load up.”
“I’m the domesticated one?”
“Man, you wear twelve-hundred-dollar boots.Yeah, you’re the domesticated one.”
He hung up and I stared at my boots, forwhich the entire team has given me shit since day one. Little dothey know these are the old boots. I haven’t broken in the new onesyet, and I’m leaving them in my closet in my apartment.
Right. Decision made. I can’t pull out of theinvestigation, though I want to in a way that makes me ache not to.But the plan is set. We’re moving in. Tomorrow we’re being visible.We’re having a couple of sofas delivered to sell the move, and keepus open to meeting the neighbors. We have new identities, creditcards, driver’s licenses, gym memberships, photos of us togetherphotoshopped against stock backgrounds from all over Europe. He’sDrew and I’m Nick, and our last name is Mason. We own an onlinetech company together, and we work from home.
Everything is set to protect our covers, andto allow us to surveil those motherfuckers across the street.
After I sigh about ten times, I put the mailin a kitchen drawer, slide the laptop back into the messenger bag,sling it across my chest, then pull on my jacket, pick up theduffles, and head out.
On the way to Melrose, I pull an agency SUV,now registered in my new name, into the parking lot of a Stop andShop and proceed to spend three hundred FBI dollars on food. I madesure to buy a couple of six-packs. We can’t drink, but we have tokeep at least some beer in the house in case neighbors drop by. Ihave my protein powder in one of the duffles, and I bought plentyof fruit and veggies.
Maybe I am the domesticated one.
Shit.
I want to go to Connecticut more than I’veever wanted to do anything in my life.
Dutchford, Connecticut
Theresa
Wedding Bells
Sofia is making her mother andNonnacrazy because they’re making Sofia crazy. I know this because Ihear about it three times a day. Another morning call is coming in,but today I’ve had enough, and I have a patient in an hour, so I’mputting my foot down.
“Hey, Ter. I know I’m being a pain in theass, and I know you’ve explained this to me about ten thousandtimes, but I’m bugging, so let me have it again. Aside from me andMatt, there are going to be nine people at this wedding. Why areNonnaand my mother making such a fuss?”
I’ve tried sweet. I’ve tried guilt, and I’vetried practical. Today, I’m trying dead honest. “Because you’re thefirst one to get married, and because you’re young and pregnant andthey’re worried about you.”
Sofia starts sputtering to say something andI have to stop the oncoming tirade and calm that downalmomento.
“Not that you’re making a mistake,” I rush tosay. “They adore Matteo, and they know he’ll be good to you.They’re nervous because they want you to be happy. They’re bothwomen who’ve had or are in long marriages. They want that for you.They don’t know how to express these feelings without hovering andtrying to control every aspect of this wedding. They don’t care ifnine or nine hundred people are coming. It’s all the same to them.They want to give you their love any way they can, andunfortunately, they’re coming at you like tanks on a field ofbattle. I say, roll with it. Don’t give on the dress, but if theywant to you to have a makeup artist and a hair stylist, say yes. Ifthey want to dictate the menu and fight with the restaurant, sayyes. If they want to have Gio and Nat take me up to Boston in theircar, I’m fine with that.”
“This is one of the three million reasons Ilove you.”
“Not to sound big-headed, but you’ve told methat already, and you’re still freaking out.A basta. Letmost of the things that are aggravating you go, and concentrate onyou.”
“I know.” She sighs.
“Listen, I can’t shrink them into calm. Theyare who they are, and you better than anyone know dramarama is theDi Caro women’s stock-in-trade. Break the cycle, at least for this.You can carry on as usual for the holidays.”
She’s laughing. I take that as a goodsign.
“Okaaay. They can have their way oneverything but the dress and my headpiece.”
“Excellent. Now, have you bought the dressand the headpiece?”
“No. But I could do that this weekend if youhelp me.”
“Soph. Emotional blackmail? Really?”
