I’m not in the best mood when I finish my rounds and head home to see my dad.
To make matters worse, he’s taking forever coming to pick shit up. I just want to go home and kick back. I need to get in touch with Adrian, too. I should text Francesca and ask if he’s at dinner tonight. I hate to text him when he’s with Mateo, on the off chance he’d notice.
“Are you staying for dinner?” Ma’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. She moves around the kitchen, wiping down the already clean counters.
“Nah, I’m just here to drop off some envelopes then I’m gonna get out of here.”
“I got a girl I want you to meet,” she tells me. “Nice girl. You remember Mary from church? Her daughter’s single now.”
“I don’t want to meet any girls, Ma.”
“But she’s a nice girl. Pretty, too. Beautiful smile. A dental hygienist. She won’t be single for long, I’ll tell you that much.”
Jesus Christ, what is taking so long?
“She’s good with kids, too. I guess Mary said the moms always ask for her special when they bring in little ones because she’s so good with them.”
I couldn’t give fewer fucks about Mary the dental hygienist. “I don’t want to meet Mary, Ma.”
“No, not Mary. Her daughter, Lila.”
“Nope, don’t want to meet her, either.” Before she can further argue the case of the new daughter-in-law she’s clearly eyeing up, I quickly ask, “Did you ever find your old recipe book with the peanut butter cake I like? I’ve been craving one.”
Adequately distracted, she launches into the boring-ass story of where she found her misplaced recipe book and how it ended up there. She promises to make me a cake for dessert on Sunday, but honestly now I’m just thinking about Francesca’s cupcakes. I don’t know if it’s the cupcakes I actually like or just the delivery system, but all of a sudden I need to talk to her. Tugging my phone out of my pocket, I shoot off a text to ask how her day’s going.
Since she texts me on a separate phone that she keeps hidden, her responses are rarely prompt. If it’s dead at the bakery, sometimes she’ll sneak in the back and send a few, but mostly she keeps me waiting around like an asshole. That shouldn’t make me smile, but it does.
God, I miss her. How do I miss her so much? I only spent one full day with her. I wonder how impossible it would be to get two full days. Or would that be worse? Would I then desire three?
Fuck.
I can’t stand not being able to take what I want. I have her, and yet I don’t. It’s fucking infuriating.
Dad finally deigns to grace us with his presence. I’m in sort of a shitty mood, thinking about all I have to do, all I want to do and can’t, and now I’m aggravated that Ma’s trying to set me up with some random woman when I have a great one she would love, if only she didn’t know her last name.
“Here ya go,” I say, pushing off the counter and handing the envelopes off to him.
“All square?” he asks.
“Yep.”
Ma pipes in, “I told Salvatore about Lila, but he doesn’t want to meet her. You need to talk to your son about the joys of marriage and family.”
Yeah fucking right. He’s the last man on earth who can lecture anyone about appreciating their family.
Since he already knows that, he barely glances at her in acknowledgement. His gaze lingers on me, a knowing sort of smugness on his face. I will not participate in that bullshit. If he thinks I’m even remotely amused by his lifetime membership to the Asshole Cheaters of America Club, he is profoundly confused.
I head over to Ma, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I appreciate you looking out for me, Ma, but I can handle my own love life, all right?”
“You’re not leaving already?” she asks, like we didn’t just go over this. “Well, hang on. I made some sub sandwiches, let me send a couple home with you.”
Now Dad speaks up. “From what I hear, Sal’s already got himself a girl.”
My blood freezes in my veins. Thank God I’m facing Ma and not him, because she’s not suspicious of me, and she’d never rat me out even if she knew. Her face lights up though, and that makes me feel bad. Passing a hand over my mouth, I get my shit together and turn back to dad with a questioning frown.
“Isn’t that right?” he asks, as if innocently, raising a bushy eyebrow. “That’s what I hear, anyway.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask levelly. “And where did you hear that?”
“Perino saw you two out in New York yesterday.”
Ma gasps, apparently thinking out-of-town trips indicate a level of seriousness that could potentially lead to grandkids. “New York?”