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I love that she’s comfortable with my brother, but damn, I don’t know how she’s going to feel around everyone else. I can’t very well kick her out to avoid having her meet the rest of my family.
“Annie…” I approach her, but the knock sounds once more.
“Enzo, get the door.” She turns her attention to Carm. “Why were you knocking like there was a fire?”
Carm laughs. Like bent over in a fit of laughter laughs. I can’t blame him. If roles were reversed, I’d be doing the exact same thing.
“I need you to go into my bedroom.”
“Why?” she asks.
I should have known she wouldn’t just take my direction without arguing. “Because my ma is on the other side of that door.”
Her face pales and she flings the blanket off her lap. “What? Tell me you have a fire escape.”
Carm sits on the couch, putting his feet up on my coffee table and resting his hands behind his head. “This is so fun to watch.”
“No, you’re coming to Sunday dinner, and I’m fairly sure you don’t want to meet Ma in my old sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts.”
“Ugh. You couldn’t have called?” she says to Carm.
He holds up his hands. “I tried. You two were obviously too busy fucking. Next time, answer your phone.”
She narrows her eyes and runs down the hall.
Another knock.
I blow out a breath and head to the door.
“That was ridiculously long. Were you sleeping?” Ma asks. I take the tray of food from her, and she touches my forehead. “No fever.”
“No.”
I put the tray in my kitchen, and Ma spots Carm on the couch. “Carmelo Mancini, I know you are not sitting there while your poor father is trying to bring up five trays of food.” She thumbs toward the door, and he jumps from his seat.
“I might as well just give up my gym membership,” he mumbles as he passes by.
“Now you, go put a shirt on. You’ll catch a cold.”
I look down. Shit. I’m a mess, and I can’t believe Ma can’t tell what I’ve been up to all morning. “Yeah, well…”
I debate in my head if I should come clean now or just surprise her with Annie. I could ask Annie to stay in my bedroom, but Ma tends to clean my condo when she comes, which means she’ll end up in that room at some point. I have no choice but to tell her about Annie.
“Now, don’t go getting your hopes up, okay? I don’t want to hear anything about marriage or babies or love coming out of your mouth.”
She takes the silver top off the tray of bread. “What are you rambling on about?”
“I have a woman here.”
Her eyes light up and she flings her arms around my body. “Who? What’s her name? Do I know her?”
So much for not overreacting. “No. You don’t know her, but did you hear me, Ma? No marriage and baby talk.”
She smacks my chest. “I won’t embarrass you. Is it serious?” She leans closer to me. “Is she Italian?”
I don’t even know, but I’m going to go with no, Annie is not Italian. “Please stop. I’m not even sure she’s going to want to come out of my bedroom.”
She ties her apron around her middle and smiles at me. “I’ll go make her welcome.”
