AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She walked into the kitchen. Her grandfather was speaking, his hands moving faster than his mouth, and when he spotted her, he froze in mid-sentence. His brown eyes lit up. “Fabriella!” he exclaimed, calling her by her given name and then chorused by the rest of the group.
“Hi gentleman… and Grandpa,” she said, making her way around the dining room table that was moonlighting as a poker table, and kissed him on the cheek. She rested her hand on his shoulder, and he patted it before giving it a good squeeze. He turned and met her gaze, dark eyes softening. “Everything okay?” he asked, his words smothered in his thick Italian accent.
“Everything is good.”
“Good!” He kissed her hand before letting it go. “Have some lobster,” he said, motioning to the kitchen.
The last thing she wanted was lobster. She swore with the amount of lobster she consumed, she’d one day turn into a crustacean herself.
“I already ate,” she lied, unless she counted black jelly beans as a meal which she gladly would, but her grandfather on the other hand, probably not. He’d have her sitting down at the table with a plate piled high in front of her.
“What’d you eat?”
She should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. It never was.
“Are we playing cards here?” Stan asked. A man in his early seventies with a thick white mustache and matching hair that caused his blue eyes to sparkle. He took poker night very seriously and hated when they got interrupted. He had bark, but he was a kind man who always had nice things to say to Ella.
“Of course we’re playing,” her grandfather grunted.
Stan held his cards up over his face and gave Ella a wink.
She smiled and mouthed thank you, realizing he was just trying to help her out. “I’ll leave you guys to it then,” she said. “Good luck.”
Dominick’s mouth curved upward, his rosy cheeks puffing up. While Stan had a head full of white hair, Dominick was balding and kept what little hair he had short. “They need it,” he said.
“Only because you cheat!” Stan declared.
Dominick slammed his cards on the table. “Do not!”
“Here we go,” Wilson said.
Alfonso, the quiet one, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair.
“You do, too, and one of these days I’m going to catch you,” Stan said. “You just wait and see.”
“Oooh, I’m scared. Shaking in my boots.”
“More like shaking in your Dr. Scholl’s,” Stan remarked.
“Boys…” Ella said, trying to swallow down the laugh begging to come out. “Play nice.”
“You heard the girl. Knock off your crap,” Dominick said.
“What’s wrong with you?” Stan demanded.
“I don’t know. What’s wrong with me?”
Stan shook his head. “Watch your mouth in front of a lady. Sheesh.”
“Since when is crap a bad word?” Stan eyed Dominick until Dominick let out a defeated breath. “Fine.” Dominick bowed his head, holding his arm out in front of him. “My apologies.”
“It’s okay, Dominick. My brothers have a worse mouth than you do.”
“Don’t make it right,” Stan argued, and Ella couldn’t help but laugh this time.
“Goodnight, gentleman,” she said, giving them a wave.
“Buona notte,” her grandfather said, and Ella headed up to her bedroom. She peeked in Tony’s room, but he wasn’t home. Or, most likely, he was out in his art studio in the backyard that he, Marco, and Enzo built last year. He spent most of his time there, creating and painting.
