He’s already made more emotional contact in the last half hour than he’s made in the last decade, so I’m not at all surprised when he smirks and replies, “I know.”
I don’t know if I’ve just made him so uncomfortable that he’s breaking his own habits, or he’s already setting things in motion, but he pulls out his cell phone. Mateo doesn’t typically pull his phone out in company, but now he types out a text while I stand here in front of him.
I don’t glance at his phone—I would never—but I do ask, “Are you doing it now?”
He shakes his head. “No, I need a little time to make that happen. This is Vince.”
My eyes widen. “Vince? You’re texting Vince?”
Flicking an amused glance my way, he says, “He does work for me; I have to talk to him on occasion.”
“Oh. I thought you meant… Never mind.”
Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Mateo rises. On instinct, I do, too. I can feel him about to dismiss me. I’ve gotten far more out of him today than I ever expected to, and now he’s done. That’s fine. I know he’ll always be who he is, but I won’t lie; it’s reassuring to get these little glimpses of humanity. My brother is not always easy to love, he’s not always easy to root for, but every once in a while he does something to convince me he’s worth standing by.
Chapter Forty Three
Salvatore
It feels wrong coming to Ma’s Sunday afternoon without Francesca.
Since I met her, I’ve been looking forward to the day I could bring her home with me to meet my family, to be loved by Ma, to joke around with Maddie. Now that I finally can, Ma doesn’t want her here.
Up ‘til now, I told Ma if she didn’t want Francesca here on Sundays, I wouldn’t be here either. We went to the Morelli family dinner instead. I felt terrible not even coming home to visit on my usual Sunday visit so shortly after Dad’s passing, but I have to stand up for Francesca. I have to let Ma know she’s here to stay, that we all need to put the past behind us and start a fresh chapter in our family. Of course she’s going to feel the loss after so many years with him, but she still has so much to look forward to—starting with my wedding.
We haven’t discussed it since the funeral, and that’s why I’m here without Francesca. I don’t want to put Francesca through a whole ordeal, so I’m here for lunch and to talk to Ma, then I’m heading over to the Morelli mansion to talk to Mateo about my wedding present.
That should cheer me right up.
“You’re getting married when?”
Ma is spitting mad. Her eyes are big, her pupils dilated, and she’s turning tomato red.
“I would say your father would roll over in his grave, but his body isn’t even cold yet!”
Nodding, I reach across the table to clasp my hand over hers, but she’s not having it. “I know. It’s sooner than I wanted, but it’s—”
“You’re the one getting married—whaddya mean it’s sooner than you wanted? Is that girl pressuring you? I can’t believe this Salvatore. This is absolutely unacceptable.”
“No, Francesca didn’t want to do it so soon after the funeral, either. It’s a business decision, Ma.”
This just makes her eyes go even wider. “You don’t get married for business!”
“No, not…” I stop, my head lolling back. “I’m marrying Francesca because I love her. But our marriage is also going to serve as a public proclamation that we’re burying the hatchet and making peace with the Morelli family. That can’t wait a full year. We’re just going to have a small, intimate wedding, close friends and family, nothing over the top.”
“Well, I won’t be there.”
My stomach bottoms out. “Ma, come on.”
“No.” She takes the napkin from her lap and balls it up, throwing it on the table and standing.
I stand and follow her out of the room, glancing back at the table. Maddie grimaces sympathetically, but makes no move to come help. I nod my head pointedly and she sighs, pushing the chair back and dragging ass to follow me.
“I don’t like what this girl’s turned you into, Salvatore.”
Maddie finally pulls up beside me, hugging her midsection in anticipation of fighting with Ma on my behalf. This is a bridesmaid duty, right?
“Ma, you’re not going to skip Sal’s wedding,” Maddie says, shaking her head. “That’s absurd. He’s your favorite child.”
I roll my eyes at her. “I’m not her favorite,” I mutter.
“Well, not today,” Maddie mutters back.
“I won’t go,” Ma insists, shaking her head as she grabs a wet cloth from the sink and begins needlessly wiping it down. “It’s not right. Maybe you kids don’t care about the way things are done, but I do, and I won’t be a part of it.”