Not wanting to be there when Jim gets home in a few hours after working his third shift at the fortune cookie factory, I climb down the steps. My pace increases and soon, I’m at a full run, weaving between buildings to bypass the throngs of people piled in the streets as the sweat pours off my body.
I fight the urge to hit something to purge the anger stirring in my body. My hands ball into fists, and my arms swing back and forth. I will not let this ruin everything I’m doing. In high school, I promised myself I’d make something of myself, and I’m so close I can taste it. My hand is on the key to my own restaurant. Newspapers and television stations will be demanding me and my culinary skills. I only need an opportunity to showcase my talent.
I run out of steam a mile later and stop to take a breath. A convenience store’s lights lure me its way to grab a water if I want to make it home. I stand in front of the cooler, looking at the array of water bottles. When did all these different water companies come into play? I remember when there was only tap water. My hands reach the coldness when someone taps on my shoulder.
I turn to my right and find Bruno, Noodle’s brother.
“I thought that was you.” He smiles, all dressed up in what I assume are going-out clothes.
“Hey, Bruno.” The refrigerator door shuts, and I shake his hand.
“What’s up, Todd?”
Noodle invited me to her parents’ house three months ago. Actually, Tatiana, her roommate, invited me one Sunday while we were outside our apartment door. I tried to refuse, saying I had plans, but she refused to accept my polite decline. Now, I go a couple of times a month. Her grandma is a killer cook, and I’m not about to pass up on food like that.
“Just out for a run. You going out?”
He glances back to a few guys at the cashier. “Yeah. You should come.”
“Nah.” I look down at my sweating body.
“You could meet us.”
“No, but thank you. Have a great night.” I walk down the aisle, heading straight to the cashier.
Bruno comes along behind me. “You coming to my parents’ tomorrow?”
“No. Lia didn’t say anything.”
“Come. I have a few things I want to talk to you about.” He steps to the right of me.
I’m wondering why he can’t talk to me about it right here. “Shoot.”
“Not here.”
His boys call out to him before leaving with packs of cigarettes.
“Call me. Lia has my number.” I pay the cashier for my water.
Then, he pays for his cigarettes.
“Those things will kill you.”
We leave the store and his buddies all surround a new Mustang, bullshitting about the motor. I’ve never been a car guy—just as Jim.
“Yeah, yeah. Just come tomorrow. Dinner’s at the usual time.”
It feels odd, going without Noodle’s invitation, but after this shit with Carol and Jim, I need a little family. And no family is as welcoming as Noodle’s family.
“All right. I’ll see you then.”
“Don’t be late,” Bruno warns.
“I won’t.” I laugh and nod at Bruno’s friends surrounding a Mustang parked outside.
CHAPTER FIVE
Amelia
“I wish I could go with you! You know I hate missing Sunday dinners.” Tatiana shuffles her belongings from one purse into another.
I swear, the girl is a walking fashion model. She could have a pile of mismatched items, but for some reason, when she puts them on, it fits, and she’s a knockout.
“I’ll bring you back some leftovers.” I swing my cross-body purse over my shoulders and grab my keys from the table sitting by our front door.
“Although I love Grandma Marie's cooking, it can pack on the pounds, and I just bought a dress that's skin-tight. I can't afford to have my monthly splurge purchase obliterated by Grandma Marie's lasagna.” She pats her stomach.
Tatiana and I are roughly the same size—plus-sizes. Some might refer to a size fourteen as obese, but I don’t much listen to those people.
“Let me know if you want to work out this week. I should have some time.” I open our door and hold it open with my back.
“Shouldn’t you be preparing for your bet with Davis, practicing up on that hot chocolate recipe?” She wiggles her eyebrows.
I shake my head. “Be quiet. I have it in the bag. I’ll win, hands down.”
“Maybe you’d rather lose.” Her eyebrows shoot up again.
I wave and step into the hallway. “See you, Tati.”
“Admit it, Lia, he’s delectable.” Her words ring out before the door slams shut.
A half hour later, I reach my parents’ doorstep. I stop at the top of the cement stairs and take a breath. I almost missed the train, and I jogged the last five blocks from the subway to here just to ensure I wouldn’t be late. As long as I beat my brother, Lucca, I won’t have to be on dish duty. Grandma’s rule is whoever is last to the table cleans. Lucca shares the late gene with me. Luckily, I’ve beaten him every time this year.
The minute I open the door to my parents’ small house, the smell of basil and herbs from my grandma’s sauce swipes away all my other senses. I stop in my tracks, close my eyes, and inhale the scent of home. Peace travels through my limbs. Home.
“Lia!” Lucca hollers.
My head whips in the direction of the dining room.
“No.” My mouth hangs open, seeing my whole family standing around the large table, holding holds.
They’re saying grace?
“Amelia, darling, come over and say grace.” My mom motions with her head as the rest of my family stops snickering.
“Yes, Mom.” I toss my purse onto the table in the foyer and rush over before linking hands with Lucca.
“Suds it up, baby,” my youngest brother whispers in my ear.
I glare.
I hold out my other hand for the person next to me, and it’s another strong grip. I look up, expecting to find another one of my brothers, maybe Marco’s callous palms from his long days at carpentry, but my jaw stretches down again when I find Todd smiling at me.
He winks and squeezes my hand. The question as to why he’s here since I didn’t invite him surfaces in my head.
“Amen,” I whisper after we finish grace.
Everyone slides their chairs out to sit down while my two nieces scurry over to their designated table in the corner.
I sit down and take the napkin on my plate to position it over my lap. “What are you doing here?” I lean closer to Todd.
“Bruno.”
He straightens his body back up, but I tug on his shirtsleeve and drag him back down.
“Why?”
He shrugs to release my fingers from his shirt. “I don’t know.”
He moves to grab the spoon in the meatball dish, but I yank him toward me again.
“You don’t find that odd, my brother asking you to come to Sunday dinner?”
He releases the handle of the spoon, and his eyes bore down into me with confusion as to why I’m asking such a question. “No. He said he wanted to run something by me, so I came. Thought you’d be happy to see me. I was going to swing by and get you, but with your lack of punctuality, I didn’t feel like being on dish duty tonight.”
He chuckles and I shove his shoulder, only making him knock into my brother, Bruno, the second oldest in the family.
“Leave him alone, Lia. He’s here as my guest.” Bruno threads his fingers through his long dark strands, pushing them away from his face, showing his bright blue eyes. He’s two years older than me, close to hitting thirty, and from what I’ve noticed, he’s scrambling to find a career.
My sight flickers between the two of them, and then I concentrate on the chicken dish that Lucca is patiently holding out for me.
“So, Amelia, why couldn’t you make it on time?” my mom asks.