Allison smiled and bit her lip. She actually had plenty more she wanted to talk about. Maybe on the drive back. Running a finger over his lips, she eyed him seductively and asked, “How long do we have to stay?”
Before he could reply, the front door opened and Tony’s grandmother scowled at the couple. Allison dropped her hand to her side and stepped away from Tony. If looks could kill, Allison would be in Tampa Bay swimming with the fishes.
Tony’s grandmother was shorter than Allison, but she had a powerful presence—stout body, thin face, angular features. Based on what she knew about Tony’s family history, Allison put his grandmother at about sixty years old, but the deep lines on her forehead and her mostly gray hair made her look even older.
“I thought you were bringing Al. Who’s this,” his grandmother demanded to know.
Tony smiled and draped an arm around Allison. “I don’t know any Al. This is my girlfriend, Allison.” Allison did a double take when he called her his girlfriend. This was the first time either of them had formalized their status. Outwardly, she hid her smile, but inwardly, she was thrilled. Still standing in the doorway, Tony quipped, “You gonna invite us in, or are we eating on the porch?”
“On the phone, you said Al,” the grandmother repeated.
“I said Allison,” Tony insisted, “but your phone kept cutting out. When was the last time you charged it?”
“Oh you know I can’t be bothered with details.” His grandmother waved her hands and walked away from them. Tony motioned for Allison to enter. He closed the front door, took her hand and led her to the kitchen.
The earthy aroma of Italian cooking reached Allison’s nose—a pungent blend of tomatoes, peppers, basil, oregano, and beef. Until that moment, she didn’t realize she was hungry. “Mmmm. Something smells really good,” Allison observed.
Over her shoulder, she said, “So, Allison. How do you know my Anthony?”
She released Tony’s hand and took a step closer to the stove where his grandmother was standing. “Oh, um. We go to EFU together.”
The grandmother adjusted the heat on the burner while giving Allison a visual head-to-toe examination. From her sour expression, Allison decided the woman didn’t like what she saw. “You a cheerleader?”
“Well, no, not yet, but—” She glanced at Tony, then turned back toward his grandmother. “How did you know? Did Tony tell you?”
“Anthony tells me nothing.” She gave Allison another once-over. “You just look like a cheerleader. Blonde and pretty and skinny. I don’t think I’m going to like you.” Allison’s eyes widened. She looked over at Tony, not knowing what to say.
Tony let out a laugh. “She’s kidding! Mamma, tell Allison you’re just joking.”
His grandmother wrinkled her nose. “We’ll see. But come. Look.” She motioned for Tony to come closer. “I’m making your favorite.”
Tony stepped closer to the stove and peered into the large stockpot. Watching them side-by-side, Allison figured he must be an entire foot taller than his grandmother. He positively towered over the woman. “Mamma’s meatballs!” Tony gave his grandmother a hug.
Squeezing him back, she frowned. “Well, I only see you twice a month except when I come to your games. You think I’m gonna make something you hate?”
“There’s nothing you make that I hate.” He released his grandmother and looked at Allison. “And you should reserve judgment about Allison. She has a way of making you love her.”
Allison looked downward. She felt the blush to end all blushes coming on, but she tried not to focus on the fact that he just used the “L” word. This wasn’t the way she wanted to hear Tony say he loved her.
Tony reached for Allison’s hand and pulled her closer. The older woman picked up a large wooden spoon and proceeded to stir the pot. “You never brought a girl over before. What’s so special about this one?” Allison began to wonder if his grandmother knew she was still in the room.
Turning toward Allison, he muttered, “Told you she was blunt.” Then to his grandmother, he said, “Allison means a lot to me, and I want my two favorite girls to get to know each other.”
His grandmother’s eyes widened and she stopped mid-stir and set the spoon on the counter. “Then you’re gonna have to tell me more about her. In fact, why don’t you go get my cell phone and charge it. It’s in my bedroom on the bureau. Take your time.” She literally shoved Tony aside and surprised Allison by taking her hand. “Leave Allison with me so I can find out what’s so special about her.”
Tony chuckled. He kissed Allison’s forehead before stepping away from her. He squeezed his grandmother’s shoulders from behind and leaned in for a stage whisper. “Go easy on her, Mamma. We don’t want to scare her away.”
As soon as he was gone, Allison asked, “Um. Is there anything I can do to help with dinner, Mrs. Ramos?”
Releasing Allison’s hand, she said, “Come sit.” She pointed at the small round kitchen table. “And my name’s not Ramos. It’s Russo.”
Allison’s brow knit. “Oh. I— Um. It is?”
“Ramos was Anthony’s father’s last name, not mine,” she explained. “After his mother left, poor kid was so angry with her, he decided to use his father’s last name instead, even though he never met the father. He insisted everyone call him Ramos, even in school.”
“Really? Even in school,” Allison asked with surprise. “And his teachers went along with it?”
Grandma Russo shrugged. “My Anthony can be very persuasive when he wants something. If you ask me, his teachers were afraid of him. He was always big and strong, even as a boy.”
This was all fascinating to Allison, learning a whole different side of Tony’s life. “Did he change it legally? His name, I mean.”
“No. At least I don’t think so.” She looked toward the stove, contemplating Allison’s question. “He’s over eighteen now so I guess he could of.” She sighed and looked at her guest. “Anyways, go ahead and call me Barbara.”
Allison took a deep breath and felt herself relax. She decided she liked Tony’s grandmother, a lot. She saw so much of Tony in this woman who was all tough and gruff on the outside, but warm and caring where it counted. Hmmm. Allison suddenly realized she had a golden opportunity to learn things about Tony he might not tell her himself. “Um. I noticed Tony calls you Mamma, not Grandma.”
Barbara laughed. “Yeah. When he was little he couldn’t say grandma, so he just started calling me Mamma.”
“And his mother? What did he call her?”
Squinting, she waved her hand like she were trying to get rid of a bad memory. “I can’t really remember. She left us a very long time ago.”
Allison looked down at the table and fingered the lacy tablecloth. “I’m sorry. I… Tony told me about that.”
A pop-pop-popping sound coming from the stove interrupted their heart-to-heart. Barbara jumped up from her seat. At first, Allison feared she’d gone too far with her questions, but it was just the sauce bubbling on the stove that diverted the older woman’s attention. His grandmother picked up a wooden spoon and gave the sauce a stir as she lowered the heat on the burner.
“I tried, I tell you. I tried like hell but somehow I failed,” she mused. “Christine was such a wild child, and it only got worse after me and her father got divorced. She was fifteen then. Only seventeen when she met Anthony’s father.” Shaking her head from side to side, she recalled, “I knew he was trouble the minute I laid eyes on him, and I was right. Only a few months after she met him, he was arrested for stealing a car and deported back to Cuba. She swore up and down he’d come back for her, but he never did. Never even tried to call her and she didn’t know how to get in touch with him. He never even knew she was pregnant.” She looked over at Allison and hit the kitchen countertop with her palm. “We were supposed to be talking about you.”
Allison smiled shyly and shrugged. “There’s not much to talk about.”
Barbara reached into a cabinet for a bowl and ladle
d a little sauce into it. “Here, try this. It’s hot.”
“Smells amazin’,” Allison said before blowing on a spoonful. She took a taste. “Mmm. Oh my God, that’s so good. Wish I could cook like that. My mom, she ordered out a lot.”
“Well, ain’t nobody makes sauce like me anyways.” Barbara took a seat across from Allison. “If you stick around long enough, I’ll teach you my secrets.” She laughed. “So Allison, I hear an accent. Sounds southern. Where you from?”
“I spent most of my life in Georgia. You have an accent as well. Where are you from?”
“New Yawk.” She looked annoyed. “Quit trying to get me off topic. We were talking about you. What are you studying in school?”
“Oh.” Maybe Allison had things to talk about after all. “I’m majorin’ in Psychology with a minor in Spanish.”
“You know, Anthony took Spanish,” she sighed, “but he cut more classes than he attended.”
It was hard not to notice that Barbara adored Tony, or “Anthony” as she called him. Allison was truly happy that Tony had someone strong in his corner. “Is it true you made him take dance lessons?”
Barbara’s eyes widened. “He told you about that?”
Yikes. She didn’t realize this was a sensitive subject. “Well, yes, in passin’. Why?”
“Because,” Barbara said, with her regional accent growing thicker, “he made me swear on every family member he could think of that I’d never tell a soul he took dance lessons.”
“Oh, please, he knows I won’t tell anyone,” Allison answered quickly. She was dying to hear the whole story.
Barbara thought about it for a minute. “Well, I suppose it’s all right then. So, see, I didn’t make Anthony take dance lessons. It was the other way around.”
Squinting, Allison said, “I don’t understand.” She just assumed his grandmother was the one who initiated the lessons. Now she was super curious.
“Wanna hear the story?” When Allison nodded, Barbara said, “It was about six years ago, I think. Anthony was fourteen and I got an invite for my thirty-fifth high school reunion. I wanted to go, but I’m not the type to go by myself, I mean without an escort. My Anthony felt bad for me and offered to be my escort.”
“Aw. That’s so dang sweet!”
“Yup. That’s my Anthony.”
Every time Barbara said “my Anthony,” Allison felt like there was a little competition going on, like his grandmother wanted to make sure Allison knew that Tony belonged to her, not to Allison. Of all the women Allison thought she might someday have to compete with for Tony’s affections, his grandmother wasn’t one of them—until now.
“So then he goes on the Internet and looks up high school reunions. He sees there’s dancing, so he does more research and finds out they give free lessons at the Y. The Y is two busses away mind you.” She held up two fingers. “But twice a week for a month, Anthony would come home from school and off we’d go. And let me tell you, that boy had some moves,” she said with a laugh. “Ya know, that’s when I told him he should go out for sports.”
Allison propped her chin on her fist, fascinated by the stories she was hearing about her new boyfriend. Gazing at the woman across the table, Barbara’s face told a story all its own. The lines on her forehead revealed a hard life filled with worry, mostly about her daughter and grandson, Allison guessed. But when Barbara talked about Tony, it was obvious she adored her grandson. Her eyes sparkled, her posture straightened, her face became animated and the color rose in her cheeks. It was easy to see that he was her whole life.
“I tell you I was real relieved when he found a sport he loved,” she continued. “Got him off the streets and away from those bad seeds he hung out with.” She got up again to tend to her sauce. The spoon hovered above the pot and she stared at the wall behind the stove. “Sometimes I think Tony feels he was a burden to me, but he wasn’t.” She submerged the spoon and slowly stirred. “Don’t get me wrong. He was no angel and he gave me fits, but my life would have been pretty boring without him. And who knew an old bird like me could learn to like football?” She laughed and looked over at Allison. Her expression grew serious. “You might not know it to look at him, but my Anthony has a good heart. He’s a sweet boy.”
“Actually, I do know.” Allison rose from her chair to bring her bowl to the sink.
Grandma Russo squinted at Allison and stared at her for longer than was comfortable. Allison wanted to look away, but she knew Mamma was sizing her up, so she forced herself to look directly at the woman. She was surprised when Barbara blurted, “You’re in love with my Anthony, aren’t you?”
Allison’s lips parted. Wow, the woman really was blunt. And perceptive. Allison felt her face warm, but she wasn’t about to reveal the depths of her feelings to Tony’s grandmother, especially when she hadn’t even told Tony. “Tony means a lot to me. And I agree with you. He’s a kind and carin’ man.” Tears sprang to Allison’s eyes as she spoke. “Mrs. Russo—I mean Barbara. You might think you failed your daughter, and I don’t know enough about that to say anythin’ one way or the other, but I do know you did an incredible job raisin’ Tony.” She blinked back tears. “You should be proud.”
Barbara set her spoon on the counter and pulled Allison into a hug. Allison responded by putting her arms around the older woman and resting her chin on Barbara’s shoulder. Maybe they weren’t in competition after all. Maybe Barbara just needed to get used to the idea of Tony having a girlfriend.
“I approve,” Barbara said.
Allison leaned away to look at the woman and saw she was looking over Allison’s shoulder. Allison turned her head to find Tony standing in doorway to the kitchen. Smiling, he said, “I knew you’d like her, Mamma.”
Allison’s eyes widened. “You were listenin’?”
Tony smiled but didn’t answer. “Mamma, what time is dinner?”
She looked in the pot and gave it another stir. “Oh, I’d say about an hour or so. Sauce still needs to reduce some more.”
Tony held his hand out to Allison. “Ready for the Tony Ramos celebrity walking tour?” Allison nodded with a smile and took his hand. This was turning into a really good day. He looked at his grandmother, touched two fingers to his lips and held them up. “Love you, Mamma. We’ll be back in an hour.”
»»•««
It was about four in the afternoon and Allison grew a little uncomfortable when she spotted a group of rowdy teenagers down the block. She squeezed Tony’s hand and glanced over her shoulder as they walked around the neighborhood. “You think they’re in gangs or somethin’?”
He looked in the direction of the teenagers. “Maybe some of them.”
“Um. Were you in a gang?” She never really thought about it before, but she had to ask.
“Not officially,” he said with a shrug, “but some of the kids I hung with were pretty rough.”
When Allison didn’t respond, Tony clamped his arm around her and squeezed her closer. He kissed her temple and whispered, “I’m not that kid anymore.”
She leaned into him and nodded. “I know you’re not.” Just then, that same group of teens ran by, causing her to grasp Tony’s arm. “Think we’re safe here?”
“Hey. Look at me, Allie.” He smiled warmly and told her, “I’m a big, powerful guy. No one’s gonna mess with me, and I won’t let anything happen to you. Ever.” He wrapped both arms around her. “You’re safe with me, okay?” Allison melted into the embrace and exhaled. Whatever she was fretting about this morning evaporated in that moment. Tony was everything she could have ever hoped for in a boyfriend but nothing she ever expected. He was strong and tough, yet warm and caring and sweet and romantic. She was falling more deeply in love with him by the minute. Why didn’t everyone in the world know what a wonderful man he was?
She leaned away to look at him. “You know what I think you need to do?” He shook his head no. “You need to let the rest of the world know who you really are.”
Wrinkling his brow, h
e asked, “What do you mean?”
“I mean you should stop projectin’ what you think other people think.” She realized she sounded like a Psych major, so she tried to explain a different way. “I’m sayin’ you shouldn’t bow your head in shame ’cause of what you think others think about you. Rise above it. Be proud of the man you are, the man you’re tryin’ to be. You’re an amazin’ guy, Tony, and you have the power to change perceptions.” He grew quiet and she could see from his watery eyes that her words had an effect on him. He took her hand and kissed it.
∙•∙
As they continued walking down the street, Tony stopped in front of an old schoolyard. He laced his fingers through the openings in the chain link fence and stared inside. “I went to grade school here.”
Allison’s eyes widened. The tarred pavement was uneven and there were curses written in chalk. Wooden benches were missing planks. Where the swings once were, only the metal framing remained, and the sides of the building were covered with graffiti. “For real? Looks like no one goes to school here anymore.”
“School’s been closed for like ten years,” he told her. “Neighborhood kids have been using this yard for a drug store ever since. It’s where I smoked my first joint.” He looked over to see her reaction. “Ever wish you could go back in time and give your younger self advice?”
Allison nodded. “We talk about that in my Psych class. So, what would you tell your younger self?”
He took a deep breath. “I’d tell that twelve-year-old boy to just say no.”
Allison grasped his arm. “You had a hard childhood.”
“Not as bad as some.” He shrugged. “I mean, this wasn’t the worst place in the world. I have some good memories, but—” he laughed a sad laugh “—the playgrounds on TV shows didn’t look like this. They had grass to run on, swings that swung, benches that weren’t falling apart. This place oughta have grass and ball fields and a clubhouse.” His voice cracked. “You wind up with a lotta rough edges when you grow up without a mother or a father and your sole caregiver works day and night.”
Roughing the Passer (Quarterback Sneak Book 2) Page 11
