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He grins and grabs a bottle of wine from my nearby bar cart while I grab the bag of food. When he reaches me, he pries the bag out of my hand and carries it with ease.
"You know, I have a feeling you're just using me for my strong arms," he jokes as we make our way to the door.
"Maybe," I tease back. "But don't get too cocky. You still haven't convinced me to take your offer."
"Oh, I'll convince you," Jacob says, opening my front door.
As I start to walk through it, my phone pings with Nonna's response. "Ha! You know me too well. Bring on the prune juice! And maybe some chocolate too ;) See you tonight!"
I chuckle and show Jacob the message.
"She has no idea that you're bringing something even better than prune juice," Jacob says, winking at me.
"Are you suggesting that you're better than prune juice?
"Absolutely. I am the ultimate cure-all for all your problems."
The smile on my face falters as I look at Jacob, really look at him.
If only that were true. If only that were really, actually true.
The air inside my lungs feels heavy as he closes the door and I lock it with my key before we start walking toward his car.
Chapter 6
Jacob
The scent of garlic and onions greets us before we even knock on the door.
Gabi's grip on the wine bottle tightens, her knuckles brushing against mine. I offer her a reassuring smile before reaching out to rap on the wooden door of Nonna Chiara's house. It's the same house I practically grew up in, and the familiar feeling of warmth washes over me even before the door swings open.
"Jacob? Is that you?" Nonna's voice is filled with the delight only a grandmother can muster.
"Hey, Nonna!" I say, dropping the food bag onto the porch and sweeping her into a bear hug.
"Oh, my stars! Has it really been that long?" She pulls back, her eyes twinkling as she takes in my five o'clock shadow and the fact that I've conveniently “forgotten” to get a haircut again.
"Not long enough to avoid your cooking," I tease. "I've been dreaming about your gnocchi for months."
Nonna chuckles, shaking her head. "Still a sweet-talker, I see. Come inside, both of you. We were just about to start on the second round of appetizers."
As we step inside, the familiar clutter brings a rush of nostalgia. The living room is a controlled mess—photos of Gabi and Giovanni grinning during various stages of childhood, knick-knacks picked up from countless garage sales, and, of course, multiple newspapers with Sudoku puzzles half-finished by Nonna.
In a plum-colored cotton dress that sweeps toward the floor, the five-foot-nothing, gray-haired spark plug bustles ahead of us before reaching for the bags of food in my hands.
She stops and stares.
"Did you bring the prune juice?" she asks with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Hush, Nonna. We're trying to introduce you to more refined beverages," I reply, holding up the wine bottle.
"Refined, my foot. Nothing beats good old prune juice for keeping things...moving along," she quips, making Gabi snort with laughter.
"You're incorrigible," I say, shaking my head even as a grin stretches across my face. "Just like old times."
Nonna pats my cheek affectionately before turning to fuss over Gabi. "Now, let's get you two settled. The night is young, and so are we. As for you, Jacob, the treehouse is still standing if you feel like reminiscing."
I chuckle, knowing full well that the treehouse holds some of my best memories. "Maybe later. For now, I'm here to help you, remember?"
