Vote Then Read: Volume I

by Carly Phillips

  This is a first for me. I’ve never brought a girl to my parents’ for Sunday dinner. Not even Jenna. Ma never really cared for Jenna. Women’s intuition I think.

  Opening the door to my parents’ place, the aromas that still make my mouth water hit me full force. I still feel the anticipation of sitting down for a meal that will stuff me full for days. Okay, I’ll eat the leftovers she sends us home with later tonight.

  Madison’s hand is clammy in my own. I squeeze it to tell her not to worry, but her teeth are still nibbling at her bottom lip like they did most of the drive over here.

  I purposely got here before Luca and Cristian. It’s a rarity that we’ll all be present for the dinner—usually one or two of us are on shift.

  My dad comes out of the kitchen, his apron already stained red but sadly not enough to cover up the writing on it.

  Madison giggles but tries to hide her response when she sees the words, If you like my meatballs you should taste my sausage. I’m not sure my mom understands the humor in the English language sometimes.

  “Madison, the smarty pants. Welcome.” He extends his arms, gripping her by the shoulders and pressing a kiss on each cheek. “Mauro.” He ruffles my hair and kisses me on each cheek as well. “Come. Come.” He disappears through the archway of the kitchen, where I know Mama will be found.

  Our house is small, a typical Chicago bungalow with three bedrooms. Each room smaller than the next. My bedroom moved to the basement as soon as I could escape Cristian at fourteen.

  I’m eager to give her the tour, wanting more alone time with her even though we just got here.

  In the kitchen, my mom is breading and frying chicken breasts while gravy simmers on the stove. She has all the salad preparations for Cristian on the small butcher block.

  “Ma,” I say, coming up behind her and pressing my lips to her cheek. She pats my hand on her shoulder. The one she’s not currently using to hold the chicken.

  “Mauro,” she says my name like she usually does, with love pouring out of every syllable, like I’ve done something to make her proud just by saying hello.

  “Madison is here,” I whisper and she must’ve momentarily forgotten because she seems a little alarmed.

  “Oh.” She whips around, chicken dripping down to the floor. “Hi. Hold on.” She hems and haws on what to do so I take the chicken from her hands and place it on the plate.

  Rushing to the sink, she thoroughly washes her hands for thirty-seconds—as always—singing the happy birthday song in Italian. Madison probably already thinks we’re a bunch of nut cases.

  “Hi Madison, right?” she asks before greeting her much the way my father did except she pulls her into her arms catching Madison by surprise.

  “Maddie is fine. Thank you for having me.”

  “I’m so happy you came. You’re welcome anytime.” Her eyes find mine across the room and she smiles her proudest grin, the one that says I did good, like when I joined the Chicago Fire Department.

  I wash my hands at the sink, drying them on a towel.

  “Can I help?” Madison asks like the good guest I knew she’d be.

  “No. You go sit and enjoy yourself with Mauro.” She shoos us out of the kitchen as usual. It’s her domain.

  We leave my parents much to Maddie’s argument about helping and earning her meal.

  “Come on, I’ll show you where I slept in high school. Your fantasy come to life.”

  She swats me in the stomach and I corner her before the basement stairs, caging her into the wall like I love to do. “Tell me no part of you wants to know where I slept in high school. Did you ever imagine it for yourself?”

  Her cheeks redden. “Keep it up and you’ll be using your hand like you did in high school instead of my mouth,” she whispers in my ear.

  My head falls back in laughter. “This is me backing off.” I hold up my hands in the air and nod to the basement stairs.

  She follows behind me down to the wood-paneled basement. The smell down here is the same as I remember it and it makes me a little nostalgic for a time when this house was crawling with so much testosterone I thought it’d bust the walls down.

  My parents haven’t changed the space at all. My bed still sits in the corner, a small table next to it with an alarm clock. The guitar I pretended to play to impress girls in the corner. The chair I played my video games in sitting front and center of the television.

  I drop down to the bed. “This is where it all went down. Lube, my hand and a lot of dirty magazines lost their lives here.”

  She sits down in the chair, watching me like I’m a different person than the one she walked in with.

  “Come.” I pat the spot next to me. “I promise I don’t bite.”

  She laughs, standing and coming over to my side. “I kind of like it when you do.”

  Rolling her over, I kiss her lips, nibbling at her bottom lip. “You know I aim to please.” I gently bite all over her neck and jaw.

  She swats me away. “We are not doing this in your parents’ house.”

  I slide my hands up her sweater, finding a camisole that’s fitted to her body. “Double wrapped? Not cool. I’m supposed to have easy access all the time.” I let my thumbs trace over her breasts, finding two peaked nipples hungrily looking for attention. “Maybe I’m wrong.”

  “Maybe you should reserve judgment until you’ve investigated the situation.” She eyes me, smiling over the fact she’s not wearing a bra under her camisole.

  Great. Now I’m hard.

  “You going commando on me, too?” I fiddle with the button and zipper of her jeans.

  “You’ll have to wait to find that out.” Her hand lands on mine, stopping me.

  “You expect me to go all day without knowing?”

  She slides out from under me. “This is my first time in your parents’ house. I’m not about to let you get to third base.” As she stands at the side of my bed, footsteps start to sound from overhead. Seconds later they’re joined by loud Italians talking.

  Madison winks and unbuttons her jeans and pries the edges open. A simple pair of red panties greet me that say, Hose Connection Here with an arrow pointing down.

  “Come.” I wave her over, sitting on the edge of my bed now, adjusting my hard-on.

  Surprisingly she obliges and stands in front of me as I pull down her jeans a little bit.

  “I love them.” I press my lips right below her belly button.

  She doesn’t fight me, so I take the opportunity to slide my finger under the crotch of her panties, feeling how wet she already is.

  “Hey.” She backs up, zipping up her jeans, my obsession quickly covered up.

  “What did I do to you that you’re punishing me so?” I haul her onto my lap and she winds her arms around my neck.

  “Gotta keep you on your toes.” She kisses my cheek and the scent of her perfume overwhelms me in the best way possible.

  I will never get enough of this, of us.

  Small feet scurry down the stairs and she bolts up off my lap.

  “Uncle Mauro! Uncle Mauro!” Devin runs across the room right into my arms.

  I’m surprised to see him, but I hug him back. “What’s up Little Man? I didn’t know you were coming today.” I ruffle his blonde locks and hold my hand up for a high five. “This is Madison, my girlfriend.”

  He stares her down and turns back to me without saying hello.

  Another set of footsteps come down the stairs, a voice calling for Devin and my entire body tenses.

  Cailin turns the corner and her head rears back in shock for a second.

  I know things are about to get complicated when I hear Madison’s sigh.

  28

  Madison

  “Hey, Cailin.” Mauro stands, holding her son, Devin, in his arms.

  “Hi. We were at the sandwich shop and your mom invited me to dinner. I hope it’s okay that we came.”

  Mauro glances at me, letting Devin slide down to the floor. He runs to his mot
her as Mauro settles at my side. “You remember Madison?”

  Cailin’s eyes set on Mauro’s hand on my hip and then raises to meet my eyes. “I do. Nice to see you.”

  “You as well.” I slide an inch closer to Mauro.

  Jealousy? Maybe.

  As if the uncomfortable static suffocating the room wasn’t enough, two more footsteps sound on the stairs and Luca stops at the bottom, a piece of bread in his hand.

  His gaze investigates the scene, his eyes shifting in each of our directions.

  “What’s up guys?” He steps farther into the room, leaning toward Cailin and placing a kiss on her cheek. “Ma said you were coming today. How are you doing?”

  Cailin kisses his cheek back and the sad expression that crosses her face has me feeling bad for feeling possessive over Mauro. She’s grieving and here I am thinking she wants to steal my boyfriend. She just needs support from someone who understands what she’s going through.

  “What’s up, Maddie?” Luca greets me with the same kiss on the cheek. “Mauro.” He nods.

  “Hey.” Devin tugs on Luca’s Bears jersey.

  Luca pretends to circle around completely missing Devin. Cailin smiles watching the scene unfold as Devin runs to the other side of Luca, but he turns around the other direction.

  “Here!” Devin yells, his hands reaching up in the air.

  Luca finally glances down with a surprised look on his face. “Oh. I didn’t see you down there.” He picks him up and flies him around the room like he’s an airplane, complete with zooming noises.

  Devin laughs uncontrollably, drool falling from his mouth. “Let’s go steal a meatball,” Luca whispers and the two fly upstairs.

  Leaving the tension to suffocate us again.

  “I’m going to go insist that your mom let me help in the kitchen.” I kiss Mauro on the cheek, his hand firm on my hip in a gesture that tells me he doesn’t want me to leave. But I can’t handle this tension and if Mauro can trust me after what Jenna did to him, I can surely trust him.

  “She never lets anyone help her,” Cailin comments as I pass her by to reach the stairs. “I’ve tried and she always pushes me out of the kitchen.”

  I didn’t really need her opinion. I mean, I’m doing this to be nice so she can have some alone time with Mauro. I’d much rather be here in the basement making out with my boyfriend than cutting up lettuce.

  “I’ll give it a shot. I think she’s just used to having boys around. Maybe with a woman coming around now, she’ll appreciate the help.”

  “And that woman is you?” A hollow laugh leaks out of her. “Slow down there, Madison, you two aren’t married.”

  “Cailin,” Mauro warns, his eyes shooting me a look of apology.

  “What? I was just saying you guys have been dating for like two days…”

  Mauro removes his attention from her causing her gaze to fall at her feet.

  “Madison, I’m sure my mom would love the help. I’ll be right up to join you.”

  I walk up the steps wondering what their conversation will consist of now.

  “I thought we were clear about this,” Mauro says to Cailin before I’m out of earshot.

  “I know you said you like her, but come on, Mauro, you just broke up with Jenna. She’s a rebound and she’s acting like—”

  “Enough, Cailin. I’m not sure where you think you get any say in the person I decide to spend time with.”

  Not really interested in hearing any more from Cailin’s mouth, I wind my way back to the kitchen. I will busy myself with whatever task Mrs. Bianco deems me worthy of.

  I wasn’t expecting the small space to be packed full of people, all speaking Italian with their hands moving around like rapid fire. There are mostly women, but a few men are sprinkled around the table, eating the samples the women are shoving in their faces.

  “Welcome to Italian life.” Cristian’s voice from behind surprises me and I jump. He grins. “Where’s Mauro?”

  “He’s downstairs with Cailin,” I say.

  His lips draw straight, but he smiles to try and cover it up.

  Yeah, I feel the same.

  For the next three minutes, Cristian introduces me to his aunts and uncles, cousins and family friends who don’t have family nearby. Everyone seems confused as to why if I belong to Mauro, Cristian is the one introducing me. I ignore the ache in the pit of my stomach as I wonder whether Cailin might always be a problem for us.

  Quickly, I refute my assumptions. She lost her husband, I can’t be that heartless to not have empathy for what she’s going through. Finding comfort with the man closest to her husband doesn’t seem that strange. Even if her husband was a piece of shit, but she doesn’t know that.

  Mrs. Bianco sits me at the table, placing lettuce on a cutting board. “Salad?” she asks like this is the only thing I could really help her with.

  “Got it.”

  She smiles, her palm rubbing on my shoulders before she walks away.

  I’m busy cutting the lettuce and the tomatoes up while running through the possibilities of what could be going on downstairs. Eventually Mauro appears in the doorway.

  At this point I’ve worked myself up so much I’m not sure I can even look at him. All those doubts from ten years ago have resurfaced. Cailin is the tall, curvy blonde that someone like him belongs with.

  “Mauro!” an uncle hollers and pulls him into his arms. He smacks his cheek, says something in Italian and both their eyes wander to me.

  Mauro’s lips tip down and he nods to his uncle, responding in Italian. An aunt smacks him on the back of the head on his way over to me, but then grabs his head and kisses him on the cheek. The entire way, Mauro ignores the pats, hugs, and kisses from his family as his gaze stays glued on me.

  Once he reaches me, I’m a ball of nerves, trying to cut up a cucumber nonchalantly. I don’t even know how that’s supposed to look, but I don’t want him to know all the messed up things that have been going through my head.

  Bending down, he kisses my cheek. “Sorry about that,” he whispers and sits down next to me. The air between us crackles with electricity like it usually does when we’re less than six feet apart.

  I shrug, continuing my job of making the salad.

  “So Ma gave you a job?” He smiles, watching me.

  “I think this might be the only thing she trusted me with, but it’s something.”

  His arm stretches across the back of my chair, his lips landing right below my ear. “I want you so bad right now,” he says softly.

  The heat he stirs in my body rises up to my cheeks. “Sure, elbow deep in lettuce? That’s your turn on?” I whisper.

  He slides his chair closer to me, his knee pressing against mine, his hand finding my thigh. Way too high on my thigh I may add.

  “I want you every second of every day, but the fact that my mom trusted you to make anything says how much you already fit in here. My uncles scorned me for leaving you alone. Said I’m lucky my uncle Mikey isn’t here. He’d kick my ass. Or hit on you.” He winks and I can’t help but smile. “They’re right. I shouldn’t have left you alone.” His teeth snatch my earlobe and when he pulls, shudders travel all the way down to my clit.

  I hope this phase of never getting enough of one another never dies. Though I know in the back of my head that I’m bound to lose my shine as far as Mauro is concerned at some point.

  “Mama!” Cristian yells and Mauro bolts up out of his chair.

  I turn to find Mrs. Bianco’s hand on the counter as though she’s holding herself up. Cristian grabs her by the waist and she lets him hold her until Mr. Bianco comes over and takes the place of his son.

  “Maria. Maria,” he says her name like it’s a prayer.

  “LUCA!” Mauro yells. Everyone else is looking around for the paramedic in the family.

  “A fire again? That’s Mauro’s department…” His voice dips seeing his mom in the arms of his dad, pale and tired. “What’s going on?” He rushes to her side, his
fingers already on her neck. “Ma?”

  She shakes her head, speaking in Italian and shooing all of them away from her.

  “No. Let me grab my bag.”

  “I’ll get it.” Mauro claps him on the shoulder and then weaves through the throes of people.

  “It’s too hot, that’s all,” his mom says. “Everyone give me some space.”

  The aunts and uncles yell at one another or what sounds like they are since it’s all in Italian and I’m quickly figuring out that if I want to come to more of these dinners, I really need to learn the language.

  I join the family in the dining room right as Mauro comes back in with his brother’s backpack. He shoots me a look of worry, but I try to reassure him with my eyes that she’ll be fine.

  “I’m sorry, Madison,” Cailin says, coming to stand next to me as I wait along the wall.

  I give her a small smile. She seems sincere and I have no choice but to give her the benefit of the doubt.

  “It’s just his last girlfriend treated him so poorly. Always making him do everything, making him take her to the latest restaurants and shows. He spent so much money on her it was ridiculous. I mean firemen don’t make a ton of money, I’m sure you know that.”

  “It seems unfair since the job they do puts their lives at risk.”

  She nods, looking behind her to find Devin playing with Legos with one of the aunts.

  “Exactly. She liked him for the title he had, not that man he is.”

  I desperately want to ask who she thinks that man is, but that would be wrong. If I want Mauro to be part of my life, Cailin and Devin come with him, so I need to learn to play nice.

  “Well, I assure you that’s not me. If anything, his profession scares the crap out of me.”

  Her lips dip to a frown.

  “I’m so sorry, Cailin. I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have…”

  “No, you’re right. The danger is there every time they leave the house. I think I took the years of safe returns for granted. It becomes a part of your life. I wish I would’ve hugged him hard every day he came home. Instead, I usually handed him Devin and said he’s yours for twenty-four hours now.”