Chapter Fifty-Four Tom
Chapter Fifty-Four
Tom
“Well, this is not awkward at all,” Tierney said cheerfully from her seat next to her husband.
My first dinner at the Ferrante mansion in Long Island was in full swing. I knew every nook and cranny in this house by heart, but this was the first time I’d been technically invited here.
Enzo sat by my side, the color high on his tan cheeks. He looked a little embarrassed and out of his element, like he’d brought a sack of wild badgers home for dinner instead of a boyfriend, but I cut him some slack. It was his first relationship with a man. And, in many ways, mine as well.
We were out in the open. Having dinners in restaurants, catching movies together, holding hands when we got our coffee downstairs every morning. We hit the gym together, flirted next to the Smith machine, and squabbled over the micronutrients of prepackaged meals at Whole Foods.
I dragged him to the theater and made him read the New Yorker and signed us up for interesting lectures.
He made me watch reality TV, booked us fun vacations, and made me less conscious about driving in his eye-watering luxury cars.
He’d moved into my apartment about fifteen hours after our reunion, and only that late because we had a month’s worth of fucking to cram into our schedule.
Now, I was breaking bread with Achilles, Chiara, Luca, and the rest of the Ferrante clan.
I slung an arm over the back of Enzo’s chair. “I agree, Tierney. It’s not awkward at all. We are a room full of grown-ups, sharing a meal and pleasant conversation.”
Enzo’s cheekbones stained red.
Chiara shoveled her peas around on her plate. The fork made a terrible sound as it scraped the fine china. “How old did you say you were again, Agen—Tom?”
“Forty.”
“That’s old.”
“Mama!” Enzo groaned.
“Mama, behave,” Luca admonished her, placing his hand over his wife’s on the table.
Sofia looked up from where their hands touched, meeting his gaze. Something passed between them. I was impressed by Luca’s ability to save his marriage. But I supposed, after the devotion he’d exhibited the last few months, it was no surprise Sofia had given him another chance.
“Am I to ignore the fact Agent Rothwell is over a decade older than my son?” Chiara huffed.
“Please, call me Tom,” I said easily, and not for the first time. We’d met several times before, and she always insisted on reminding everyone of my job.
“Mama,” Enzo said, “please.”
“Tom.” She tried the name again on her lips, making an effort. “But if Enzo is happy, I’m happy. Bambino mio, are you happy?”
Enzo bit down on his lower lip shyly. “I’m walking on clouds.”
“How’s Iris doing?” Lila asked me. I’d made an unlikely ally in the youngest Ferrante. She and Tierney had been the first to reach out and try to connect when Enzo and I announced we were together. I doubted we had much in common, but she was Enzo’s favorite, and therefore mine.
“Iris is good, thank you.” I tore a piece of bread, dabbing it in the delicious sauce of the homemade scampi. “She accepted Josh’s proposal. The wedding is a month from now.”
“That’s soon.” Tierney whistled.
“Bitch, you eloped in Naples.” Enzo snorted.
“Enzo, language!” Chiara cried.
“I think they’re going to try for a baby,” I said. “And because they’re religious…”
“They need a license to pork,” Achilles concluded, winding the pasta into his fork expertly. “Gotcha.”
“Achilles!” Chiara moaned again. Everyone ignored her. Questionable language was the least of her children’s sins.
Enzo still looked too tense for my liking, so I snuck my hand under the table and squeezed his knee reassuringly. That only made him blush harder. The man looked so petrified you’d think I was sucking his cock on live television.
“Enzo, why aren’t you eating your food?” Chiara barked. “I made your favorite!”
“Yeah, man.” Achilles sipped his drink. “Eggplant parmigiana.”
Luca snorted. Tierney kicked Achilles under the table. He gave her an apologetic face.
“I’m not hungry, Mama.”
“What’s the matter with you?” she said. “Of course you’re hungry; you’re a growing boy.”
“If he grows one more inch in any direction, this house will burst,” Tierney mumbled into her wine.
Achilles choked on his bite. Lila laughed. I smiled to myself. I’d spent the last three and a half years trying to put all of these people in prison, but the truth was…I liked them.
They were dysfunctional to say the least, but they were a real family.
And they cared about each other deeply. I’d grown up in a so-called functional family, with two parents who were together and held respectable jobs, and we had no dinnertime banter, no jabs, no hearty food, no involvement in each other’s lives.
Life was cold and clinical. For decades, I’d imitated what I’d seen at home, even long after I’d left and actively washed myself of it.
I now understood why Enzo wanted a big family, with lots of kids.
He wanted this.
The mayhem. The laughter. The never-ending connections that just kept weaving into each other with every interaction.
The relationship between these people reminded me of a nest—on the surface, a collection of independent twigs with different origins, stories, widths, and lengths.
But together, they made something sturdy.
Something that held itself together, that sheltered its occupants from harm.
Enzo squirmed next to me, taking a big gulp of his water.
“Please, can you put this fucker out of his misery and give him a kiss?” Tiernan threw a hand in Enzo’s direction. “He looks like he is about to cry or some shit.”
“I think he’s being shy,” I said dryly, pouring Enzo, and myself, more water.
Sobriety was a measly price to pay in order to have the man that I loved while keeping my demons at bay.
“I think he’s wondering if you still want to be with him after meeting his family properly,” Achilles countered. “This is a mild evening, by the way. This is us on our best behavior for you.”
Turning to my partner, I asked, “Is it true? Is this why you’re two seconds away from jumping out of your skin?”
He winced. “I know my family can be…a lot.”
“Uncalled for.” Tiernan tipped his Guinness in Enzo’s direction. “Maybe other families aren’t enough, but we’re definitely the right amount.”
“Just kiss and be done with it!” Tierney chanted. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
And then the entire deranged family hammered their fists against the table and repeated the word together. Even Sofia joined the chants.
Kiss!
Kiss!
Kiss!
“You’re never getting rid of me.” I dragged his chair closer, tipped his chin with my fingers, closed my eyes, and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, thinking of the word I thought of every time I saw his face, from the moment I’d hung a picture of him on my office board.
Mine.