Chapter 2
“All I’m saying is, as a brother, it’s a little much!”
“Uffa! Leave her alone, Leonardo. Your sister is young and gorgeous. What she wears is none of your business.”
Leave it to my nonna to defend my outfit, smack my little brother on the back of the head, and stir her ragu without missing a beat. Leo scoots away from her second smack, plucking an apple off the counter and laughing as he hustles out of the kitchen.
“Don’t ruin your dinner! I’ve been babysitting this sauce for almost three hours!”
“You know as well as I do that he’s a bottomless pit.
” I can’t help but laugh at the idea of Leo ever being anywhere close to full.
All of my brothers have massive appetites, but he takes the cake, even if he’s the slimmest. I’m not convinced he’s stopped growing, and once he joins Gabri and Nikki in the NHL, he might end up with more muscles than they’ve ever had.
Nonna sighs and grabs the cheese grater, deftly handing me a salad bowl in the process. Taking the hint, I grab a head of lettuce and get to work, moving around my grandmother in a practiced nightly dance.
“He might be a bottomless pit, but he knows better than to come into my kitchen so close to dinner. And to talk about your cute little outfits like he isn’t running around here shirtless half the time!
” She’s gesturing with the wedge of cheese she’s grating, and I wonder which classic story I’m about to hear for the umpteenth time.
“You know, when I was your age, I wore even less, every chance I got! You’re only young once.
One day, you’ll look down and nothing will be where it used to be, and you’ll wish you had walked around naked more.
And my outfits were something special, let me tell you that! Sexy enough that I—”
“Kissed a Beatle!”
Mama’s interruption triggers a flurry of movement into the kitchen as she and my dad pile in, followed by both of my giant older brothers, taking up more than their fair share of space as usual.
“Yes, Giulia, I kissed a Beatle!” Nonna kisses my mom on the cheek and hands my oldest brother, Gabri, a stack of plates to take to the dining room.
“And I’ll never tell which one!” My middle brother, Nikki, finds himself with an armful of napkins and silverware, and Papa grabs the salad I’ve just finished to follow them and help set the table.
Mama helps Nonna add pasta to the sauce and yells for Leo, and before long, we’re all settled in for a family dinner that hasn’t changed much since I was a kid.
“So what was the impetus for the Beatles story today?” Mama winks at Papa as Nonna adds more pasta to Leo’s plate, admonishing him for ruining his appetite with his apple.
“Leo took exception to my outfit, again.”
“Well—”
“Ah, patatina, now that you mention it—”
“Too much boob—”
“That’s what I thought—”
“Excuse me!” I scoff as Papa and my brothers all chime in. “I don’t need any opinions, thank you very much.” Papa gives me more freedom than a lot of women in my position would ever get, but I sometimes think he’ll never see me as anything other than his little potato.
As always, Mama comes to my defense. “You look marvelous, Elia. Like your grandmother said, you’re only young once. If I had your body when I was your age, I would have flaunted it too!”
Papa stops eating to place a kiss on the back of her hand and looks at her with the same soft eyes that embarrassed my siblings and me when we were children. Now, I know it’s the special look shared between soulmates, and how lucky we were to grow up in a house full of love.
“Amore mio, you were then just as you are now. Perfection. My personal Picasso.”
Leo exaggerates a gag, but we’re all used to our parents getting lost in each other multiple times during a meal.
Nikki makes a show of slapping Leo on the back, and Gabri cracks half a smile, his equivalent of a belly laugh.
Nonna takes advantage of everyone’s distraction to bring her attention back to me.
“You know, Elia, with all these cute little outfits, I’ve been wondering if you’ve had your eye on someone special…?”
Disrespect isn’t tolerated in my family or in their business, but I can’t help a little sigh at my weekly interrogation.
I’m not even dressed up! It’s the same athleisure that everyone wears these days, but because I have boobs that require specially ordered bras and an ass that fluctuates, everything just looks sexier on me by default. “Nonna, you know I—”
“Will find someone perfect for her at the right time. Not a moment before!” Mama interjects and saves me, while Papa looks characteristically solemn whenever the subject of my dating comes up.
“She can date all she wants, but it’ll take a man I deem perfect to take my patatina away. She’s too good for them all. I’ve yet to meet anyone who deserves her. I don’t know why you feel the need to bring this up at our first family dinner of the new year!”
“Apparently, more than one of the guys’ teammates thinks they’re perfect for her, from what I’ve been hearing.”
Leo has never learned to keep his mouth shut, and we’ve all enabled him for too long.
The baby of the family, the only one who takes after Mama’s lighter features instead of the olive skin and dark hair that mark the rest of us as Sicilian like Papa.
He greased his path by being the most angelic baby I’ve ever seen, a cheerful temperament and a tuft of blond hair earning him Nonna’s favoritism and the nickname “Cherubino,” which he’s never been able to shake.
“That’s not even true. I—”
Gabri interrupts me with an honest-to-God growl, and Leo’s eyes widen as Nikki smirks.
“What our dear Gabriele is trying to say, Cherubino, is that you can tell whoever is spreading those rumors that they have no change with our darling sister. There will be no more hockey players in this house. She deserves better than a degenerate like us.” Gabri must agree with Nikki’s assessment because he doesn’t say anything more than a final grunt as he goes back to eating.
With that final word on my dating prospects for this week, the conversation turns to business, mixed with hockey updates: both Leo’s college team and my brothers’ professional careers with the Thunder Bay Rising Tide.
I’m proud of them all, especially this year.
Gabri made captain, Nikki is having his best year ever as the alternate captain again, and with the regular season coming to a climax soon, they’re all but guaranteed a top seed in the playoffs.
We’re hoping Leo will get drafted here, too, and based on what the team will need next year, he should be a perfect fit.
“Niccolò, tell me more about this new goalie you have—”
Papa is interrupted by the shrill ring of our landline, a number that’s only used by a few people for very specific reasons. After a few years of relative peace, it seems to be ringing more often lately. I see Mama and Nonna exchange a loaded look.
Gabri and Nikki rise to follow Papa from the room, the latter giving Mama a kiss to the temple and apologizing that he won’t be here to do the dishes tonight. Leo is half out of his chair, unsure if his recent increased exposure to the business includes involvement in whatever is happening tonight.
Papa pauses in the archway of the dining room, seeing the hopeful look on Leo’s face and sighing. “Leonardo, come.” My little brother’s victorious fist pump earns him an eye roll from Mama as Nonna makes the sign of the cross and starts gathering the remains of the meal.
“You’re the only one I get to keep, Elia. Everyone else is busy with hockey, and if it isn’t hockey, it’s this…”
“I’m not going anywhere, Mama.”
“She’s not going anywhere, Giulia. But she needs to bring you another son! One who isn’t involved in this or hockey, and can just help us around the house and make grandchildren!”
Knowing there’s no way to tell Nonna that there hasn’t been a man anywhere close to deserving my children, I keep my mouth shut as we clean up from the meal.
Mama goes to take her bath and relax as much as she can while the boys are out with Papa, and Nonna goes to her room to watch her show in bed and pretend she likes the plot.
We all know she just wants to ogle Tom Selleck. Who can blame her?
In my room, I wind down during my evening routine and take stock of the week ahead.
Tomorrow is a full day of baking, with every hour accounted for.
I signed up to make gift baskets of breads, cookies, and homemade jam for the raffle at the Emerald Sunrise retirement home, where I visit every Tuesday.
That’s on top of my usual weekly haul for the residents and staff.
I’ve been going for so long that many of them feel like my adopted family.
At this point, I can make everyone’s favorites with my eyes closed.
Tracy will want sprinkle cookies as always, and Horace told me he’s in the mood for pizzelles this time…
A glance at my desk calendar confirms the rest of the week: a visit to the neonatal unit at the children’s hospital to take baby hats Nonna and I knitted, two of Leo’s games, and a gala to raise money for protection against beach erosion.
My schedule is typically full, and as I stretch and fill myself with positive thoughts for the week, there are plenty.
My loving, healthy family. Our beautiful home, filled with food and laughter.
The ability to choose how I fill my time almost every day, and the fact that I’ve built my life around community outreach and projects that give back.
The irony is not lost on me, with that last one.
But, generally, I have everything. I shouldn’t covet anything else.
Shouldn’t.
Even my lavender diffuser and soft rain sounds can’t stave off the guilt I feel as my automated window shades lower, signaling it’s time for bed.
Deep shame, hidden and only accessed at night when my brain slows enough to feel it.
All my practiced deflections, smiling at Nonna’s comments and continuing as if they don’t bother me…
My bedside lamp turns off right on time, and I pull my eye mask down with a huff.
You don’t need a man, Ellie. Stop your nightly pity parties. You have everything you need, and people would kill to have your life.
Maybe not if they knew the risks of being killed themselves.