Chapter Twenty-Five
Matt didn’t care much for Sundays.
Before Gina, he rarely gave the day a passing thought, but now, on the Sundays she was here, she’d wake with the sun to go to early Mass at St. Vincent’s with her family—her obligation, as she called it.
More often than not, she was back before noon, but on this particular Sunday, at well past two, she still wasn’t here.
He checked his phone and, finding no text, Matt sent one to her. Everything okay, bunny? Where are you?
The bubbles danced, disappeared, and then nothing. His spidey sense kicked into gear. He waited a moment, and just as he was about to send her another, the bubbles danced once again.
I’m still here. I’ll explain when I get back.
“When will that be, bunny?” Matt asked himself. And what the hell was going on? Something was. He could feel it. But rather than tell her that, he simply replied, Okay, I love you.
Then, he stripped the sheets off the bed.
Matt carried them into the laundry room. Stained with her blood, a mortified Gina had advised him to throw them away when she got up and saw the mess.
“Shit, that’s never going to come out.” She gasped at the sight. “Towel or no towel, I knew this would happen. It’s my heaviest day.”
“They’re just sheets, babe.” And he kissed her. “Besides, it was worth it.”
Didn’t she realize he loved every part of her?
A little blood didn’t repulse him, and quite honestly, with Gina, her period had the opposite effect on him.
Was that weird? Maybe. And there was a time he would’ve thought so.
But there was something about seeing them both covered in the mess they made together that made him feel some kind of way.
Undeterred, Matt loaded the sullied white cotton into the washer.
Sheets had to be white. And soft. It was one of the few odd quirks he had.
The fabric could be silk, bamboo, cotton, or linen—that part didn’t matter so much as long as it felt good on his skin, but they had to be white as the pure driven snow.
“Do your thing, OxiClean.” He lowered the lid with a chuckle.
His grandmother swore by the stuff. Addicted to infomercials, Matt fondly remembered finding her glued to the TV at two in the morning, watching Billy Mays hawk the latest, greatest miracle cleanser.
She bought damn near everything she saw, too.
Ginsu steak knives. The George Foreman grill.
Hell, they had an entire drawer of forgotten gadgets to prove it.
He missed her.
Maybe they didn’t have a lot, but his grandmother did her best by him.
Matt always had clean clothes, a home-cooked meal waiting on the table, and a hug whenever he needed one.
She was often sad, though, especially around his birthday, but then her daughter died the day he was born, and surely, the date only served as a reminder.
Twelve years later, her son was killed fighting a fire on St. Patrick’s Day.
So young, too. He was only twenty-four. God, he’d idolized his uncle. His tragic death completely gutted him.
So, Matt understood why she never made a fuss over his birthday.
No party. No cake with candles. And it was okay, because she’d lost a lot, and he knew she was hurting.
More importantly, he knew she loved him.
His grandmother was the one who always encouraged him to work hard, fight for what he wanted, and chase after all of his dreams.
She gave him his first guitar, after all.
Ten years gone now, Ellen McCready didn’t get to see the band’s success.
She passed away from Hodgkin’s lymphoma just months before they made it big.
Matt never got to buy her a big house or the fancy car like he promised her he would, not that she wanted any of those things.
In the end, she only wanted to go home and be with her family again.
He just wanted her to stay a little while longer.
Love you, Grandma. Tell my mom, Grandpa, and Uncle Mark hello for me, will you?
Matt heard a knock at his front door, and that was odd, considering people came and went as they pleased around here. It was annoying sometimes, but usually he didn’t mind it very much. When he opened it, he found Katie’s brother standing on his porch.
“Well, hey, Kev. What brings you here?”
“Hey, Matt.” With a lopsided grin, he picked at the hairs that clung to his forehead. A cool day in late September, and here, the poor kid was sweating. “I’m helping my aunt and Kodiak move in next door, and I was wondering if you could give us a hand. I swear, it’ll only take a minute.”
“Sure thing, buddy. Got all the time you need.” Swinging an arm around Kevin’s shoulders, they went down his porch steps. “What can I help you with?”
“Stuffing my new uncle’s big-ass couch through the front door,” he said, pointing to the leather culprit sitting in limbo on the walkway. “I keep trying to tell them it ain’t going in that way, but who’s gonna listen to me?”
“Hey, Kelly.” He greeted the newlyweds, his new neighbors, with warm hugs and a kiss to the ice queen’s cheek. “Kodiak. Welcome, my friend, and congratulations on your nuptials.”
Dillon rolled his eyes.
Having come to his senses, the dude returned from his sojourn in Ireland a few weeks ago.
Like a bookmark holding a place in a story that’s moving too fast, Dillon had always loved Linnea.
Kyan’s death had been a mind-fuck for everyone, but for him most of all.
Losing a brother? Playing house with his widow?
Caring for his infant daughter? That had to have messed with his head.
Matt was just glad they both sorted through their shit and were happy.
It’s what Kyan would’ve wanted for them.
“I don’t understand why you can’t get it in.” Linnea studied the couch, Charlotte bouncing in her arms. “Chloe and I moved that sofa into Oak Street all by ourselves.”
“As I recall, you had a lot of help, gorgeous,” Dillon said, taking the baby. “It took me, my brother, Brendan, and Bo to lift that thing.”
“Well, what seems to be the problem, then?”
Oh, here we go.
“Gee, I dunno, Kelly.” Dillon returned her mocking stare. “Let me think… the width of the door, maybe?”
“Or maybe you’re not as strong as you used to be.” She pursed her lips with a shrug. “Been skipping the gym?”
This was going nowhere fast. Before Dillon could open his mouth and no doubt say something he’d regret, Matt stepped in between them. “Why don’t we try taking it in through the back?”
“Now, there’s a novel idea,” Kevin dryly intoned, his hands going up in the air. “I’ve only been telling them that.”
“C’mon, Kev’s right,” Kodiak said, taking a corner. “It’s not that it’s heavy so much, but the size makes it unwieldy, so it’s gonna take all four of us.”
Two pretty fit dudes on each end—piece of cake, right?
Wrong.
Matt lifted, his muscles straining, and he hadn’t been skipping the gym. Kodiak lied. The fucking thing was heavy.
“My sister damn near fainted when I told her I was going to be living next door to you, so be prepared.” Carrying a box in her arms, Kelly walked along beside him. “Kara still tells anybody who’ll listen that you called her pretty.”
“And she is, but I’ve got a girlfriend, so…” Don’t be getting any ideas.
“Kara’s going to be crushed when she finds out.”
“I don’t think so.” Couldn’t she see he was focused on keeping his grip on her stupid sofa? “And she already knows because I told her.”
He had to tell her to get her to stop fangirling all over him. But that was his own fault for being nice.
“Can’t you dudes move any faster?”
Says the nineteen-year-old.
“I promised Matt we wouldn’t keep him long, and there’s half a U-Haul to unload yet.”
“It’s okay.” Not like I’ve got anything better to do.
“Luca was gonna come help, but he had to bail.”
Oh?
And his spidey senses reactivated. “How come?”
“His mom made him stay home because they’re having company… and some bullshit about World War III.” They put the sofa down in the empty family room, and Kevin shrugged. “But that’s every family dinner at the Rossi house. You ever been?”
“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”
“Yeah, well, they’re loud,” he said, his head bobbing up and down. “Luca said his sister might need him for backup—and Teo, too.”
“Why?”
Spill it, Kevin.
“Um, uh… shit.”
Gina didn’t want to hang around here any longer than necessary, and wasn’t that sad?
She should want to spend time with her brothers and enjoy having dinner with her family, but her mom made that impossible for her.
Always shoving Vinny down her throat as if Matt didn’t exist. And so, she spent most of her days off at Park Place.
Hell, much to her mother’s chagrin, she practically lived there.
Rosemary insisted they attend Mass together as a family, though.
That was non-negotiable, even for Nick and Tony, who had families of their own.
She thought it would look bad if they didn’t.
Gina couldn’t fathom why, but her mom was always concerned about appearances.
She and her friends would chit-chat about silly things like how many cars were in old Mrs. Cavarelli’s funeral procession.
Any number less than fifty made it look as if a person hadn’t been that well thought of.
Or how could Lydia Santucci allow her daughter to get married in a gown that wasn’t white? People will know she wasn’t a virgin.
As if.
Chrissakes, the gown was this gorgeous blush.
So, to appease her mother, Gina went to church with them every Sunday and either went to sleep if she was working, or back to Park Place if she wasn’t, shortly thereafter.
She’d love to stay, help with the cooking, and have dinner if Matt could be here too, but Rosemary made it abundantly clear he wasn’t welcome at their table.
“And just where do you think you’re going?”
Gina had been gathering some things to take to Matt’s when her mother barged into her room.
“I’ve got plans this afternoon.” She didn’t, but her mom didn’t need to know that. “Matt’s waiting for me.”
“Well, he’s going to be waiting a while.” Rosemary meant business. Tapping her foot on the wood floor, she crossed her arms in front of her. “We’ve got company downstairs, so you’ll be staying for dinner.”
Dammit!
“It wouldn’t look right if you just up and left now, would it?”
“Let me invite Matt to dinner, then,” Gina said, tossing an extra box of tampons into her bag.
“Absolutely not.”
“Why not?” She had to make her mom see reason. “He’s my boyfriend, I love him, and he’s not going anywhere.”
“Do you think I want people to know you’re involved with that man?” Moving in closer, she emphatically shook her head. “No, no, no. Whatever feelings you think you have are going to fizzle out. Mark my words.”
“Why do you hate him so much?”
“Hate is such a strong word, Gina. I don’t hate him, but I don’t want to see you with him, either.” Her mom sat on the bed beside her and smoothed her hair. “People will talk, honey. Everyone knows where he came from.”
“Yeah, from around the corner. What the hell are you talking about?”
“Never you mind.” And back to business, she stood. “Now, put on a pretty dress and get downstairs.”
Figuring the sooner she complied, the sooner she could get back to Matt, Gina changed into a casual mid-length burgundy dress.
With long sleeves and a scoop neck, it hugged her curves without showing too much cleavage.
Heaven forbid! She giggled and added a taupe leather belt and a pair of matching boots.
Teo met her at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m sorry, Gina.”
“Sorry for what?”
But the moment she glanced into the living room, she knew. “What the fuck is he doing here?”
“Guess.” She didn’t have to. “I was just coming up to warn you. Luca and I can distract them while you slip out the back door.”
“Fuck that.” She’d had it with her mother’s meddling. “I’m putting an end to this bullshit once and for all.”
And holding her head high, with a smile plastered on her face, Gina strode into the room.
“Why, hello, Mrs. Passarelli. Isn’t this a pleasant surprise?” Not. Politely, she hugged the woman, then glanced over at her son. “Vinny.”
“Wine?” Tony smirked, and putting a glass in her hand, he leaned into her ear. “Don’t you dare make a scene and embarrass Mom, capisce?”
Wouldn’t think of it.
She would, but she’d save it for later.
“Vinny, can we talk in private for a minute?”
“Sure, babe.” Vinny grinned like he’d already won. She wanted to smack it right off his face. “We’ll be right back, folks.”
“It’s going to work out.” Gina heard his mother say.
“I think so, too.”
He followed her into the den, closing the door behind him. Then, she laid into him. “What do you think you’re doing, Vinny?”
“Getting my girl back,” he said with a shrug, stalking toward her.
“I’m not your girl, and I haven’t been for three fucking years.”
“Gina, baby, it’s what our parents want. It’s what I want.” Vinny picked up a strand of her hair, and twirling it around his finger, he grinned again. “And when did you get such a foul mouth?”
“Well, it’s not what I want.”
“You did once.”
Gina smacked his hand, watching her hair unravel. “Yeah, and then you showed me who you really are.”
“Madone, do you see the tits on the blonde over there?”
“Stop looking, Vin. You’ve got a girlfriend with amazing tits.”
“So?”
“Didn’t you tell me you’re gonna marry her?”
“Gotta marry somebody, right? She gives decent head. I could do worse.”
Disrespected. Humiliated. She threw a drink in his face and walked away.
“C’mon, Gina, you know I didn’t mean it.”
“You meant it.” And with her gaze locked on his, she nodded. “The look on your face when you saw me standing there told me everything I needed to know.”
“I’m sorry, and I swear I’m gonna make things right.”
No, you’re not.
“You can’t. And anyway, it’s too late.” Her gaze and her voice never wavered. “I love someone else.”
“Unlove him, then.”
“Impossible.”
“Gina?” Luca poked his head in. “Matt’s here.”
“Take care, Vinny.”
And she smiled.