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“Jesus Christ, Nonna!” Valentina nearly falls off her stool.
“Language,” Nonna chastises.
“Hey, Kat,” Nicky says, joining us. “I’m glad to see you again. Sorry if you weren’t treated kindly on your last visit.”
“It was fine; just a misunderstanding.” Hopefully being sorted now.
“Well, I gave Romeo and Luca a good chewing, regardless,” Romeo’s fiancée tells me.
I must look shocked, because Valentina chimes in, “I know, right? Romeo’s this big, bad guy, but a mushy-heart pushover for Nicky.”
“A thousand bucks if you say that to his face.” Nicky snorts a laugh.
“No fucking way.” Valentina shakes her head. “I’m not that desperate for cash.”
“Language,” Nonna says again, exasperated.
“Hey, everyone,” Lily says from the doorway. “Little ears approaching.”
“Aunt Kat!” Iris comes bounding into the room and runs to my arms.
“This is a nice surprise. I wanted to thank you for the advice: Uncle Fabio and I got married,” I tell her.
“Yay!” Iris cheers. “I knew he liked you.”
“What?” Lily gasps, hurrying over and hugging me.
“You should ask Uncle Fabio to get you a different ring,” Iris decides when I place her back on her feet.
“Why? Don’t you like this one?” I proudly show off my toy ring. Don’t get me wrong; I do want a real one, but I dare anyone to try and take this plastic treasure from me.
“Because my boyfriend already gave me one just like that,” Iris says.
I try not to die laughing, covering it up with a cough.
“Yeah, Darius handled it about as well as you would expect.” Lily sighs.
“Sorry, Kat. Agree with Iris on this one; you need a ring upgrade ASAP. Have Fabio take you to the Jeweler.”
“I’m not familiar with that shop,” I tell her.
“Not a shop, but a man with a briefcase he locks to his wrist. Now, since I have all of you here, which event do we need to discuss first? Nicky’s wedding or Kat’s wedding reception?”
“You’re just like your brother; all work,” Nonna chastises while rolling out pasta on a huge counter.
“Well excuse me, but amazing events don’t just plan themselves,” Valentina says.
“Kat’s wedding reception,” Nicky jumps in. “Sorry, take one for the team.”
“You act like I’m waterboarding you by making you pick out invitations.” Valentina rolls her eyes at her future sister-in-law.
“You pick the card stock,” Nicky says. “You pick the font. You pick the style. You pick the envelopes. You pick the stamps. I’m hereby delegating all wedding invitation details to you.”
Valentina looks like someone’s dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. “But the tiniest of details matter, and?—”
“Who’s hungry?” Nonna asks.
“Oh, I just ate at my mamá bakery,” I say.
