“Yes, this is my wife Amaya.” I realized I didn’t know her last name, so I decided to forgo it.
“Your wife,” Nonna repeated again and then turned to the scattering of cousins in the kitchen. “Go, take the food to the table. I need to talk to Kristo.”
“I can help with that if you—” Amaya tried to offer, but Nonna cut her off before she could say another word.
“No, I need to speak with you.” She turned to her and planted her hands on her hips. Even though she was a good six inches shorter than Amaya, she dominated the whole room.
“Okay.” Amaya shot me a panicked look, one that said I wasn’t to go anywhere and certainly wasn’t to leave her in here alone with my nonna. I closed the door behind me. Least I could do was keep this between us.
“So, how did you meet?” she demanded, and I dived in swiftly to cover Amaya’s tracks.
“We met a few months ago, while I was on a work trip,” I replied. “And we decided ‘hey, let’s just do it.’ We love each other, so why not?”
“And why didn’t you mention this young lady to me before?” she demanded, and I shrugged.
“I didn’t want to get your hopes up that I was going to marry this one,” I replied. “But here we are.”
Nonna nodded, apparently happy with what I’d told her and then turned her attention to Amaya.
“And you, what do you do?”
“Uh, I’m a librarian,” Amaya replied, her voice a little shaky. “And I take care of my sister.”
“Librarian? So you have a degree?”
“A master’s.” Amaya nodded.
“How old are you?” She eyed her, giving her a sweep up and down.
“Twenty-eight,” Amaya replied at once. Nonna nodded—young enough to give her some grandchildren, that was what she was thinking.
And the twenty questions continued like that. I was surprised at how deft Amaya was in knocking them back, sticking to her guns calmly and completely. By the end of it, even Nonna seemed satisfied with everything she had heard.
She ran out of questions and inhaled sharply through her nose as she peered at the two of us again. Amaya reached out to take my hand, and I squeezed it, silently thanking her for pulling this off.
“Well, I suppose there’s nothing I can do about the wedding now,” she sighed heavily, and I knew that was as close as I was going to get to her approval. I shot a look at Amaya and nodded, letting her know this was a win.
“Amaya, please, feel free to join the rest of the family at the table.” She waved her hand, and I went to follow her, but Nonna caught my arms before I could get out of the room.
“Don’t think I’m letting you get away that easily,” she muttered, and I was suddenly a kid again about to get chewed out by my grandma for stealing the halva before the rest of the family got a chance to get near them.
“What did you think you were doing, running off and getting married behind our backs?” she demanded, and I shrugged.
“You like her, don’t you?” I pointed out, and she sighed heavily.
“Yes, but I would have liked being at your wedding even more,” she replied. “We’ll throw a party, eh? How about that?”
“Sounds good.” I nodded, and finally, I was allowed out of the kitchen to join the rest of the family around the table. The worst was over. Just a couple more hours and we could be out of here.
She did well with the rest of the family, though I tried my best to deflect the majority of questions for the time being. I didn’t want her overwhelmed, not quite yet. At least she’d met everyone now. Well, not quite, as my sister, Cleo, hadn’t made it up this weekend, but that was only one person, and I could handle her. Probably. As long as I got to her before any of the cousins broke the news of my marriage.
It took us what felt like a lifetime to extract ourselves at the end of the party, but eventually, the family let us get away, and relieved, I headed back out to the car. As soon as the door had shut behind us, I let out a long groan of relief.
“Well, thank fuck that went well.” I turned to her.
“That was it going well?” She gave me a look. “I felt as though I didn’t impress them so much.”
“Oh, trust me, you did,” I promised. “If she hadn’t liked you, Nonna would have just kicked you out of the house.”
“Please tell me she’s done that to someone before.” She giggled. She’d had a couple of drinks, and I could see the flush to her cheeks telling me she was a little merry.
“Oh, the stories I could tell you about her.” I shook my head. “Come on, let’s get home. I’m tired.”
“Me too.” She yawned, and she leaned her head against the window and stared outside as we headed back down to my apartment. I tried to think how I would deliver on the promise that I would make it worth her while—wine, flowers, chocolate. Chocolate. I grinned to myself as we drove, pleased at how well it had gone. The next year would be perfect too.