The Italian's Doorstep Surprise

Her grandfather’s two-bedroom apartment was above a pizza shop on the avenue. She punched in the code, and once inside, they went up the stairs.

As she reached into her purse to get out the key, the apartment door suddenly opened in front of her. Her gray-bearded grandfather stood inside the doorway. He was still in his morning robe, though it was late afternoon.

And he wasn’t alone.

“Mrs. Kowalczyk?” Honora gasped at sight of the sweet widowed lady who owned the flower shop where Honora worked part-time. “What are you doing here? Er...?”

Even to her innocent mind, it was obvious what Phyllis Kowalczyk had been doing. The plump, white-haired woman looked flushed and disheveled, as if she’d dressed in a hurry, with the buttons of her yellow blouse done up in the wrong places. The older couple stared back at them in shock, their cheeks red.

“How did you get here so fast?” her grandfather demanded indignantly. “You must have broken the speed limit!”

“Patrick,” Phyllis said quietly, “you might as well tell them.”

Her grandfather sighed. “Fine.” Waving them inside, he led them into the tiny living room, with a window directly over the pizza shop’s neon sign. “You should sit down.”

Staring at her grandfather, Honora thought she had better. She fell heavily into the small, slightly saggy sofa. Nico sat beside her, neither of them touching.

Across from them, Patrick sat in his old chair and Phyllis in the chair beside him. They glanced at each other, smiling tenderly.

Holding her breath, Honora looked between them. “Are the two of you...?”

Patrick Burke looked proud and shy all at once, puffing out his chest like a teenager. “I’ve asked Phyllis to marry me.”

Honora blinked, feeling dizzy. “I didn’t even know you were dating.”

“We weren’t,” Phyllis said. “We met sometimes in the shop, and around the neighborhood over the years. I fell hard.” She looked at him. “But he wasn’t free to be in a relationship. Not when you needed him.”

Honora turned to her grandfather, flabbergasted. “I did?”

Patrick looked embarrassed. “My duty was to you, Honora. You’d already been through so much. I couldn’t bring someone else into our apartment, into our lives. I couldn’t be in a relationship. Especially when you were pregnant and alone.” His wrinkled face lit up. “But when Nico agreed to take responsibility last night, and with the two of you starting a family of your own...” His eyes looked dreamy as he turned to Phyllis. “Now I’m free.”

Honora felt an ache in her throat. It was just as she’d thought. She’d been a burden, keeping her grandfather from living the life he wanted. “I never meant to...”

“First thing I did when I got back here last night was tell Phyllis I loved her.” Patrick looked at Phyllis. “I’d wanted to say it for so long.”

“I know,” Phyllis said, reaching out for his hand. “I know.”

Honora stared at the grandfather who’d raised her. She barely recognized him in this moment.

“You love her?” she whispered. Granddad had never said those words to her, not once, not even when she was a child. She felt suddenly more alone than she ever had. Taking a deep breath, she pasted a happy smile on her face. “So you’re moving in together?”

“Moving in?” Patrick looked shocked. “Like a couple of hippies? My intentions are honorable!” he protested, then gave Phyllis a sly glance. “Though last night, one thing led to another. This afternoon, too...”

“Patrick!” Phyllis was blushing. “Stop!”

“Anyways...” He cleared his throat with a harrumph. “We got the license this morning. We’re getting married tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Don’t worry, dear,” Phyllis said kindly. “We won’t steal your thunder. We’re going down to city hall. No big ceremony or fuss. Just a couple of witnesses, then we’ll leave on our honeymoon.”

“Which is more to the point.” Patrick grinned. She gave him a mock glare.

“I’d signed up for a horticulture cruise,” Phyllis rushed to explain. “Two weeks down the coast, and it leaves tomorrow night. We’re going to take it together, as a honeymoon.”

“It all seems so fast.” Honora’s voice was a little hoarse.

“Not fast enough.” Her grandfather looked at Phyllis. “We’d be married already if it weren’t for the twenty-four-hour waiting period.”