by Wood, Vivian
The way he says the last part gives me rage. But I do what I always do and stuff it down. I only see my parents every couple of years; there is no reason that the couple of days they’ll stay should be unpleasant.
I cross my arms and say nothing.
“Do you mind getting me that drink, dear?” my mom chimes in. “Or should I perhaps try that little place down the street? It looked like an adorable sort of wine shop—“
“Your mother needs to sit down,” my father says, looking around with a frown. “Preferably somewhere that’s not in a dusty old attic.”
My jaw clenches. I shoot a look at Bradford, then raise my arms toward the doors. “Yeah, that wine bar is fine. Let’s go there.”
My mother is already heading for the exit before I finish the sentence. I roll my eyes, wishing like hell that Luna was here. She is the golden child and usually helps to bail me out of this kind of situation.
I almost make it out the door before I hear Cate behind me, calling my name. “Wait, Luca! If you’re going home, I need a ride there—”
I cringe and then turn toward her. “Not now, Cate.”
My father doesn’t miss a single trick. “Who is this, Luca?” He casts an eye up and down her body. “Some kind of angel that you know?”
I’m surprised by that. I hadn’t thought to introduce Cate to my parents. Honestly part of me fears whatever kind of judgment my parents will pass on her. They have always hated anyone I chose to introduce them to as my girlfriend.
Especially Madisyn.
But my mother comes tottering back inside the front door to see what’s holding us up and now she and my father are looking at me expectantly.
I clear my throat. “Mom, Dad, this is Cate. She’s… uh… living with me.”
Cate flushes, extending her hand to my mom. “It’s temporary! Just while I figure out… you know, what needs figuring out.”
“Nice to meet you,” my father booms. “You’ve got a nice handshake there, sweetheart.”
My eyebrows rise. Sweetheart? And since when does Cate have such a magical handshake?
“So nice to meet you guys,” Cate says. “I was just trying to catch Luca—”
My father barks at her. “Nonsense! You must be close with Luca here if you’re staying at his house. Come have a drink with us.”
“Oh yes!” my mom says, lighting up. She grabs Cate’s elbow and starts steering her out the door.
“Oh no,” Cate tries to protest. “I am still working—”
My father claps me on the back so hard that it stings. “Luca will forgive you for cutting out early. Isn’t that right, son?”
He doesn’t wait around for me to agree though. He pushes through the heavy door, rushing to catch up with my mom and Cate.
I trail after them, watching anxiously as my mom leads the way into the dimly lit wine bar. The place is pretty romantic and intimate, with lots of little black leather booths and a few tables peppered here and there. Behind that is a wall of wine bottles, organized by wine varietal and region.
Without waiting to be seated, my parents pick a booth, my dad squeezing in with my mom on one side. I sit beside Cate across from them, a sigh on my lips.
“Is there even service here at all?” Mom asks, peeling her coat off. “I swear, Luca, once you’ve been in the Greek Isles for a while, you get used to their style. They like fast service, bam bam bam.”
She squints around. A waiter comes up as she is saying it, smiling pleasantly.
“Good evening,” he begins.
“Yeah, look. We need a bottle of your finest beaujolais, stat,” my dad interrupts. “And some kind of bread.”
The waiter looks unruffled. “Very good, sir. Four glasses for the table?”
“Yes!” my mother says. “Now go, go go.”
She shoos him away. “I’ll tell you, I wish we were back home. They know our order without asking us. When we get into any restaurant, they have someone opening our bottle before we even sit down.”
She waves her hand. I glance at Cate, who looks like she thinks that if she’s quiet enough, she will legitimately disappear.
Under the table, I put a reassuring hand on her knee. She blushes but when she looks at me, she seems grateful.
I repress a sigh. “That’s nice, Mom. Speaking of that, why are you two in town? And with no notice on my part…”
The waiter comes back, pouring the bottle of wine into four glasses and setting down a basket of breadsticks. My mom immediately gulps her wine, so my father steps up to answer.
“We have to spend at least three days here to maintain our residency. Don’t worry, we’ll be on a plane tomorrow to Hawaii.”
My mom smiles. “We haven’t been there for almost eight years! Aloha.”
“Wait, I thought you had to be here for three days?”
“Well, we have been. We’ve just been busy.” My father sips his wine, staring at his glass. “I’m not sure that this is what I asked for.”
So they were in the state of Washington, they just couldn’t be bothered to tell either of their children? I would be shocked, but honestly that’s pretty typical for my parents.
“Cate, dearest, tell us all about you,” my mom says. “Where did you grow up?”
Cate goes red, pushing her dark hair out of her face. “Here in Seattle.”
“Oh really?” My mom takes a sip of her wine. “Where did you go to high school?”
“Gatewood High.” She blushes again. “I have been friends with your daughter for eight years, ma’am.”
“Luna?” my dad says. “You have good taste in friends, then.”
Cate ducks her head. “Yes sir.”
He laughs. “And polite? I’ll wager this is the best girlfriend you’ve even introduced us to, son.”
“I’m not—”
“She’s not my—”
We start protesting at once, but my parents don’t listen. Truth be told, they aren’t even paying attention. My mom drains her wine glass.
“Be a darling and flag that waiter down, will you?” she asks my father.
I glare at them, unsure how to even respond. Then I feel Cate put her hand on my knee.
I glance at her. She gives me a sympathetic look, squeezing my hand.
Then she puts her hand back on my knee and sits up straight. “You know, Luna and I went to college together too.”
My father and mother both look at her.
“Oh yes?” my mother asks, beaming. “Luna is so smart, isn’t she? Going for her medical school degree is tough stuff.”
Cate smiles. “Totally. I’m always in awe of that. When we were in college, I had one semester of biology before I cried uncle.”
“She gets that from me,” my father brags. “I could’ve gone to med school if I wanted.”
“Definitely,” Cate says, nodding. “Luna is really smart. She’s going to make a great doctor. And she’s also very pretty…”
My mom reaches across the table and grabs Cate’s hand. “She is so pretty! And I am so glad to meet you!” She shakes a finger at me. “You hold onto this one, Luca. She’s a keeper!”
“Luca actually does really well with his bar,” Cate says.
My dad actually bursts out laughing, slapping the table. “Did you hear that, darling? She stuck up for her man! I love that quality in a girlfriend, don’t you Luca?”
My dad slides his glass of wine in front of my mom and my mom takes it, sipping it right away. He orders another bottle, though Cate and I don’t really touch our wine. Cate spends the next hour praising Luna and defending me. I spend the whole time quietly watching; she seems to have things well enough in hand.
By the time my parents leave, drunkenly staggering to a cab, my father has decided that they love Cate. “She’s a keeper,” he intones. “You’ve got to put a ring on that one, son. Best decision you could make.”
He hiccups as I roll my eyes.
“Okay, Dad.” I tuck his head into the backseat of the cab, feelin
g an incredible sense of relief when it finally pulls away from the curb.
I look down at Cate, a sigh on my lips. “Thank you. You saved the night, somehow.”
She blushes and looks away. “It’s alright.”
“No, it’s not. I owe you an apology. I’ve misbehaved since we hooked up. But you…” I shake my head. “You saved me tonight anyway.”
“Yeah, well.” Her lips twitch and she glances up at me. “It wasn’t that bad for me. As it turns out, they just want to hear about how great Luna is.”
I groan. “Yeah. They’ve always been like that. My parents could not be more self—involved, except for cheering on Luna.”
Her smile falls. “I am really sorry that you have to deal with that, Luca. I mean, I would argue that at least your parents are alive… but I don’t think you have the same kind of relationship with them as I did with mine.”
I frown. “No. Not even remotely.”
There is a flash in my head, of Cate and her mom arguing just before Cate got into my car years ago. I wish I had a parent that cared, even just for a little while.
Cate surprises me by pushing up on her tiptoes and kissing my cheek. Then she steps back, her face burning.
“What was that for?” I ask, perplexed.
She shrugs. “You just seemed like you needed it. That’s all.”
Before I can say anything, my phone starts vibrating in my pocket. I dig it out, trailing after her toward the Attic. It’s one of the band managers that I have desperately been trying to get in touch with.
“Shit, I should take this,” I say, although Cate is a few feet ahead of me by now. “Do you want a ride home in a bit, though?”
She flashes a grin over her shoulder. “Yeah, that’d be great.”
Then she disappears into the front door of the Attic, leaving me to argue on the phone.
Chapter Twenty
Cate
C—
Had to leave early to make a partner’s meeting at work. See you there later.
— L
I stare down at the note Luca left for me, my mouth pulled into a frown. It’s not a big deal that I didn’t get a ride to work.
No, my issue is that I’m starting to feel like he knows me a little too well. Especially when I found the note pinned to the coffee maker.
Yeah, he would’ve had to have known my morning routine. He set this note out and ground some coffee just for me…
And I don’t like it one bit.
I mean, I would’ve figured out that Luca had left even without this note. And the coffee filter and pre-ground coffee just seem mocking to me.
That, or like Luca thinks that he has a grasp on me and what I like. The thought makes me vaguely nauseated.
This is only supposed to be for four more weeks. That’s one month. Then things go back to normal, whatever that means. And one thing that is normal is that Luca and I hate each other…
Certainly the feeling I have in the pit of my stomach, which is not hate and is instead some mixture of lust and longing and a drizzle of starry eyed wonder… I am not supposed to feel this way.
Non-hate feelings were never part of the arrangement.
I still have hours before I have to be at work, so I ignore the coffee Luca laid out for me. Instead, I take the bus back to my grandmother’s house. While I’m on my way there, I lapse into daydreaming a few times.
Well, by daydreaming, I mean remembering what sex with Luca was like.
Every time my mind wanders off and ends up in the gutter, I pinch myself on the back of my hand. It’s the same technique that I used to stop biting my nails…
But it isn’t working, thus far.
When I finally get to Grandma’s house, I have to hunt her down. I finally find her in her outdoor greenhouse, kneeling between rows of mint and sage. It smells heavenly out here, especially when I pluck a tender shoot of mint, crushing it between my fingers.
Grandma turns around at the sound of my footsteps approaching.
“Cate!” she says, beckoning me closer. “Just the person I need. Here, grab a pair of gloves and help me weed.” She yanks a weed from the row of sage. “These damned weeds.”
I pick up a pair of gloves, kneeling beside her. “Hi Grandma.”
“Hello, sweetheart. Grab that tool there, will you?” She points to a hand tool and I pick it up. “Mmm. Doesn’t the earth smell good today?”
I can’t argue with that. “Yep.”
Pulling some weeds out by the roots, I toss them in the pile she’s made. Grandma presses her lips together, glancing at me.
“How are things going with your man friend?”
All the while her hands are busy, using the tool to dig up a fresh clod of earth.
I blow out a breath. “Complicated.”
Grandma’s lips lift. “They usually are.” She pauses, yanking on a particularly intractable weed until it comes free of the earth. Then she tosses it onto the pile. “I was under the impression that you didn’t like him. What is his name again? Luke?”
“Luca,” I say. I grunt as I tug at a weed. “And I don’t. Or at least, I didn’t.”
My grandmother slides me a look. “You know, your parents hated each other before they became a couple.”
I stop pulling a weed. “Mom and Dad?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Grandma sits back, adjusting her hat. “Your mom was conservative at the time. In the way she dressed, in the things she did, how she voted too, probably. I think having me for a mother, the biggest hippie that you could find in Seattle, was hard for your mother in some ways.”
I don’t say anything, not wanting to interrupt her remembrance. But I do put my hand on her back, rubbing small circles into her flesh. Grandma gives me a sad smile.
“Anyway, your father came along. He was very different, from a military family but rebelling against what he came from. He was laid back where your mother was strict, mellow where she couldn’t be. She was a devout Catholic, he couldn’t be bothered with any church. You get the idea.”
I frown. “How did two people who believed such different things end up married?”
My cheeks stain, because I realize people could ask me the same question about Luca and I.
“Eventually I think they met in the middle in most things,” Grandma says with a shrug. “But for a while there, all I heard about him were complaints. ‘Charlie did this, can you believe it?’ and ‘Charlie said that! I wanted to smack him!’” Grandma dusts off her hands. “Then one day, the script flipped. ‘Isn’t Charlie handsome?’”
She chuckles, then gets up, her knees popping.
“Careful there,” I say, steadying her.
She waves me off. “Come on. We need some hot cocoa. I’ve already set up the pitcher just inside the back door. We should sit on the back porch while we warm ourselves.”
She marches toward the back porch, leaving me to follow her.
“Mom and Dad really seemed happy together,” I muse.
“They were.” She climbs the steps to the back porch. “Sit yourself down. I’ll grab the cocoa.”
I take one of the ancient wooded rocking chairs as Grandma returns with two steaming mugs full of cocoa. Thanking her, I sip mine experimentally.
Grandma is a lot of wonderful things, but a good cook is not one of them. To my surprise, it’s well-balanced, the dark bittersweet chocolate offset by the buttery milk fat. Somehow, the notes are in harmony.
“I didn’t make the cocoa,” she says, smiling as she sips it. “I’m sure you can tell. Carmine made a few batches for the house.”
“I didn’t say anything,” I protest, warming my hands on the mug.
Things are quiet for half a minute, then Grandma speaks again. “You said things are complicated with you and your man friend. Why do you feel that way?”
“Oh.” I blow out a breath. “I met his parents last night. I mean, I’ve met them before as Luna’s parents, but they barely noticed me. Last night though, they were paying attention and it w
as…” I pause, searching for the words. “A little bit terrifying, to say the least.”
She arches a brow. “How so?”
“Mr. Leone was… I don’t know, commandeering? And imperious? And Luca’s mom… she was nice but she drank a lot. A lot. Thank god they’re gone a lot, but… I can’t imagine growing up with them as parents.”
My grandmother nods. “You were lucky, I think. Having the parents you had…”
That phrase makes me a little sad. Had, in the past tense. “Yeah,” I say, my shoulders slumping. It’s a little weird to even be having this conversation about my parents.
Then she smiles slyly at me. “So have you told Luca yet?”
My brow pulls down. “Told him what?”
“That whatever he’s doing, it’s working. You’re smitten with him, I can tell.”
A bloom of heat rises in my cheeks. “What? No. Ugh.”
I roll my eyes but Grandma just grins at me. “Oh yes. You like him. Grandmothers have a sixth sense about these things.”
I shake my head. “Nope. This conversation is over. Cancelled!”
“Mmm-hmm.” Grandma looks down at her cocoa, pleased with herself. “We can change the subject but I don’t think that will change the way you feel.”
I stand up. “I should probably get going anyway.”
“Oh, come give me a hug.” She stands up and hugs me, brushing my hair back from my face.
Long after I leave though, I’m still turning over what she said.
Am I really smitten with Luca? I mean, we have been in pretty close quarters for almost a month and a half now. And close quarters did bleed over into us having sex once…
I don’t want to be one of those girls that goes all goo-goo eyed over a guy that she’s had sex with, though. That’s so not me.
Then again, neither was having sex with Luca in the first place.
I’m still turning the thought over and over in mind my mind when I reach the Attic. I head to the employee locker room, getting ready for work at a snail’s pace. Bradford comes into the locker room, waving several envelopes in the air.
