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“So were you.”
I snort. “Yeah, right. I have a theory that my mom only had my brothers because she was trying to get a girl.”
“That must have been something…the youngest and only girl.” He pauses and chuckles. “Do I have to be worried about your brothers since I’m screwing their little sister?”
They wouldn’t care if I ended up in his basement, and my murder was on the news. Of course, I don’t say that. Maybe my youngest brother, number three in our lineup of offspring, would care. He’s the only decent one. The older two are jerks who spend their free time hiding at my parents’ and watching football or whatever’s on to avoid their wives and children. No wonder both of them are divorced.
I look down at my fingers and brush my thumb over the surface of one of my gel-covered nails. “No.”
“Well, I don’t have siblings, but I have a million cousins who mostly still live in Napa. We all got along pretty well, and growing up, my mom never knew how many kids would be at dinner. But it was cool. Whenever my uncles and aunts went on trips, my parents always ended up watching my cousins,” Robby explains. “And when my parents went on their anniversary vacation, I stayed with one of my uncles.”
Sounds like how a family should work.
“That’s awesome.”
“We’re all loud, by the way. Like really loud. My dad and his brothers just kind of yell at each other from across the vineyard to communicate,” Robby adds and laughs.
“’Cause what’s a phone?” I joke.
Robby laughs again. “Exactly.” He lets out a small groan. “And my cousins are crazy. We’re all boys except for one, but she lives in San Diego. Um, my dad’s brothers stayed in Napa, but their sister went to San Diego for college, met her now-husband when he was a law student, and they stayed there.”
“Wow, only one female cousin?”
“Mm-hmm, she’s great but definitely spoiled.”
“So, does this mean we’re cursed to only have boys? I mean, if you want kids.” I quietly ask. I haven’t put much thought into future children, but one or two would be nice someday.
“I can’t wait to be a dad and, um, not necessarily. Some of my cousins have kids, and there’s a couple of more girls in the mix now.”
“What’s your mom like? Also excited to be a grandmother?”
Robby smiles. “Very, but she respects that I’ve stayed single to enjoy my twenties. But she has no idea…” he trails off. “She’s quiet. Peaceful. An anchor in a lot of chaos.”
I get goosebumps again and rub my arms to settle them. “Must be nice having a mom like that.”
“Are you cold? I can adjust the AC?” he asks.
“I’m always cold. Don’t worry about it,” I answer.
“So, what’s your mom like?”
I lightly rub my temple at the question.
There’s not enough time in the day.
“Um, the worst. Classic narcissist combined with passive-aggressive Southern Christian-ness,” I rant.
I wish she were like Robby’s mom.
“Hmm, I see why you didn’t go back to Georgia.”
I just nod in response. “Is all of this pizza for us?” I ask.
“The first two. This one is for my neighbor. He’s older and recently widowed.”
And in that moment, I see Robby’s mom come through in him, and my heart warms my chest.
“That’s nice of you.”