“Marco! Marco, wake up,” she yelled at my father. He grumbled in the background. I pictured her poking him in the ribs until he was conscious. “Evelyn says she got married last night. Married.”
I covered my eyes with my palm and lowered my head. It didn’t matter that I was thirty. It wouldn’t matter when I was fifty. I was always going to be their child. That didn’t seem to fade with age. If anything, the older I got the harder my mother held on. I saw it with Frannie. I felt it with the daily phone calls. And in this moment, I had shattered something between us. I had stolen a milestone, and I couldn’t give it back. I took away a memory we could never share together. The elopement had taken care of that.
I started to speak faster. “I’m in New York with Jeremy now. It’s amazing here.”
“I’m putting you on speaker,” she announced. “It’s Evelyn, Marco. Wake up.”
I sighed. Shit. “Hey, Dad.”
“Did you get married last night?”
“I did. We took Jeremy’s jet to Asheville. And we’re in New York. He has work here that’s important.”
“More important than talking to your father and asking permission to marry his daughter?”
I flinched. “I’m thirty. I don’t need permission to get married. That sounds really sexist, Dad.”
“It’s courtesy, Evelyn. It’s a sign of respect. You know we value Italian tradition. Don’t call me sexist,” he barked. “Put him on the phone.”
“You want to talk to Jeremy?” I eked.
“Your father said to put him on the phone,” Mama echoed. “He needs to speak to him.”
“We’ll have to call you back. We have dinner plans,” I lied. “Reservations are a big deal in the city. So, I’ll call tomorrow? We can talk then. I really have to go. Love you both.” I hung up and turned my phone off immediately. I knew they would call back within seconds. If it wasn’t them, it would be Frannie. My sister was going to freak out. It wouldn’t take much nudging from them for her to start blowing up my phone.
The abrupt ending to the call made me feel uneasy, but so did lying about my relationship.
I threw my messenger bag over my shoulder and walked outside. I was only two blocks from Jeremy’s building. By the time I reached the penthouse all I wanted to do was crawl in bed and sleep. Crying wasn’t out of the question.
“Where were you?” His voice hit me before I had closed the door.
“Hi to y
ou too.” I glanced up. I didn’t know Jeremy could look so tense. There was darkness in his eyes.
He scowled. “Where did you go?”
My shoulders slumped, letting the bag touch the floor. “I wanted to explore a little. I lost track of time.” I was almost too weary for words.
“There wasn’t a note. No message from you. Not even a trail of damn breadcrumbs, Evie. How was I supposed to know where you were?”
My eyes narrowed. “I didn’t realize you would worry. I also didn’t realize I had to check in with you, roomie.”
He groaned. “You can’t just disappear like that.”
“I didn’t disappear.”
“I came home to an empty apartment. What do you call that?”
I exhaled. “I’m too tired to fight with you. I’m also too tired to explain why I’m not going to stay up here in your icy tower like a prisoner.”
“You aren’t a prisoner.”
“Really?”
He followed me down the hall. I walked into the master bedroom, grabbed my suitcase, and rolled it out of the room into the hall.
“Where are you going with that?” he asked.