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Right after lunch, things went deadly quiet for about half an hour, which was the worst. Usually my dad clears out the kitchen when he makes his red sauce. He says it’s to keep the recipe a secret, but it’s really because he hates having anyone try to give him advice. The rest of the family rests for a while, some napping, some watching television, and some sitting out in the yard if the weather’s nice. But where was Hudson during that time? I am so hoping he was watching TV with my mom, and not stuck in the kitchen with my dad, who I’m guessing would’ve done his Goodfellas razor blade garlic thing while he gave him a cryptic ‘stay away from my daughter’ lecture.
Glancing at the clock, I see that it’s almost time for dinner. I tap away at my keyboard, trying to teach Frank how to ignore what we call cosmic microwave background radiation, which is basically the afterglow of the Big Bang. The trouble is, my mind keeps wandering back to that gorgeous hunk of a man every few seconds, which is so much worse than yesterday, when it was only wandering back to him every few minutes. The awful, horrible truth is that him showing up today has tipped me over from crushing hard to falling for him. Like honestly, the second I saw him in my kitchen holding that case of wine, I could feel my heart and soul just swell up with joy, which is just so, so bad because there’s really no possible scenario in which this ends well for me.
A knock at the door interrupts my not working and I call for whoever it is to come in, except instead of my usual bark of “Who is it?!” I opt for a soothing, friendly “Come in!”
When my mom opens the door, she says, “You can drop the act. It’s me.”
“Is supper ready?”
“Yes,” she answers. “That Hudson’s a very nice boy.”
I shut off my desk lamp and stand up. “Yeah, he’s not what I was expecting.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know. He’s a lot more down to earth than I thought he’d be.”
“Do you think he might have some Italian in him?” she asks, which is Mom for ‘you should marry him and make me some grandkids.’
“No idea,” I tell her, following her out of the room. “Say, where was he when dad was making the red sauce?”
She gives me a look that tells me exactly what happened.
“Noooo, seriously?” I ask, my face already hot with embarrassment even though I don’t know with one-hundred-percent certainty what happened.
Nodding, she says, “Yup.”
I let out a groan. “Did he give him the pepper and tomato paste talk?”
“Oh yeah, but don’t worry because I came in and put a stop to it.”
God, I hope so.
For some unknown reason, everything tastes amazing tonight, especially the wine Hudson brought. It’s a red from a region in the northwest part of Italy called Piedmont, and I can tell by how impressed the older generation is that it’s fancy schmancy. It’s going down so nicely, I’m getting a little tipsy, which I know I shouldn’t do since I have to go straight back to work when dinner’s over. Only, I’m a bundle of hormones and nerves right now, so maybe a few more sips won’t hurt.
Oops, that was more of a glug.
“Say, Hudson, do you want to see my science project after supper?” Matteo asks.
Hudson is just about to say yes when I cut him off. “No, you do not. It’s a trick.” Giving Matteo a hard look, I say, “A nasty one at that considering that Hudson just got out of the hospital two days ago because of … one of those things.”
Matteo snaps his little fingers together. “Nuts. You’re wrecking all my fun, Zia.”
Lucia sighs and gives her son a death glare. “We’re not going to have fun at Hudson’s expense. Especially since he saved Zia Allie’s life and spent the entire day helping us.”
Thank you, Lucia. For once, you’ve come through when I need you.
She turns to Hudson. “This wine is incredible, by the way.”
“Oh, I’m glad you like it. The man at the store said it was Italy’s best red.”
“He was right,” she answers, lifting the glass while giving him a smile that definitely means she’s thinking about cashing in her one free celebrity bang card.
Vinnie glares at him. “So, Hudson? You ever do any MMA fighting?”
Oh crap, Vinnie clearly hasn’t forgotten about the list.
“Uh, no, can’t say I have. You?”
