by Gina LaManna
“Here is espresso for the lady,” Marco said, giving me a Dixie-cup-sized espresso.
I stared at it, not sure how to drink the thing. “This is...smaller than I’m used to.”
“It’s perfect, trust me,” Marco said.
“Any chance you have sugar or cream? Marshmallows, maybe?” The liquid smelled bitter, even from far away.
“You should not ruin espresso with mini marshmallows and such things.” Marco looked appalled that I’d even suggest it.
“We can grab you a coffee in town, babe.” Anthony emphasized the last word.
“I’m just going to do some cooking first.” I didn’t enjoy the immediate tug-of-war between Anthony and Marco over my attention. It was early morning still, and I just wanted to cook some toast and ruin my coffee however I liked. And since I couldn’t find a toaster, I just have to settle for using a skillet over the stove to brown the bread.
I looked in the fridge, remembering we hadn’t picked up much at the grocery store last night besides chicken, which was all gone. And Nora kept nothing in stock here: no jam, no peanut butter, no cinnamon, or butter, or even syrup. Which brought me back to the raw bread.
Setting plates in front of everyone, I placed an unadorned piece of toast on Anthony’s, Meg’s, and Marco’s plates, before setting one on my own. I slid into the seat next to Anthony, while everyone looked at their breakfast in confusion.
“What are you waiting for?” I asked. “Eat!”
Marco came and sat on the other side of me.
I scooted my seat towards Anthony.
Marco pulled his chair closer to me.
I leaned away.
Marco rested his hand on the back of my chair.
I sighed, not wanting to tell Marco off; I hated confrontation, but the man was making it difficult. How many ways could I say I wasn’t interested?
“Listen, Marco – you and me, it’s not going to happen. This is Anthony, my boyfriend.” I touched Anthony on the chest. “We talked about this yesterday. Nora invited you to stay here last night, but today you’ll have to go.”
Anthony watched the exchange as if mildly amused. Some of his earlier possessiveness had faded, and I had to wonder if it was because he’d decided I had a zero-level attraction to Marco. I had to give the little Italian credit where it was due, however. Over a foot shorter than Anthony, he seemed completely unfazed by the presence of my boyfriend.
“I will change your mind, Lacey. You will learn to like me. Maybe even love.” Marco grinned up at me. “I will take you on a date tonight.”
“Sorry, Marco. I can’t,” I said, gesturing towards Anthony. “Like I said before, this is my boyfriend.”
Marco frowned, but it was only temporary. “Is no problem. I borrow you for a date from your boyfriend.”
“I’m not a library book,” I said. “You can’t just check me out when you want and then return me.”
“No, I don’t return you.” Marco shook his head vehemently, not catching the joke.
“I, however, am much more open to the idea, if you know anyone who’s looking,” Meg said. “But I got high standards about who I let check me out. Credit check, background check...you know the drill.”
Feeling frustration bubble up inside me, mostly because my vacation was becoming more and more derailed by the second, I pushed my plate forward with a clatter. “Nobody here is looking for anything romantic this weekend, or going on any dates. Now let’s talk about something else before I set this kitchen on fire.” My phone chose that moment to ring, breaking the tense silence in the kitchen.
“I’ll be back. Eat your toast.” I walked out of the room, feeling my stomach plummet as I saw Nora’s name on the screen.
“Hello, Nora,” I said.
“Lacey dear, how was your first night at the cabin?”
“It was fine.” I cringed, realizing I hadn’t yet called Carlos and updated him with the events of the previous evening.
“Great!” Lowering her voice, she whispered, “So what do you think of Marco – sexpot, huh?”
“Not particularly. Nora, I’m not interested.”
“But you said you were open to looking.” Nora sounded disappointed. “Were you lying to me?”
“No, of course not.” Guilt rushed into my chest. I should at least try to be grateful – my grandmother was only trying to help. “I just don’t have any feelings for Marco.”
“Sometimes they grow and blossom even when you don’t think there’s anything there.”
“Is that what happened with you and Carlos?” I asked, realizing I didn’t know much about my grandparents’ relationship history except that they’d met in Italy and run off together because their families disapproved of the courtship.
“Oh, not in the slightest.” Nora’s girlish laugh tinkled across the phone. “We had a whirlwind relationship. I fell in love with that man the first time I laid eyes on him and ever since it’s just been growing. I still can’t get enough of him, darling, and I’m old.”
“You’re not old,” I said, my heart tugging at her story. Now that I was in a relationship, tales of long-lasting love hit me harder than before, apparently. It was easy to see how much Nora loved her husband, even after decades of being together. I wondered if Anthony and I had something as special as Nora and Carlos. But I pushed the thought away, not certain if I was ready to hear the answer.
Because as much as I hated to admit it, when – if ever – I fell in love, deeply in love, I wanted everything. I wanted the butterflies in my stomach. I wanted subtle touches on my lower back, lazy circles massaged on my knee when we thought people weren’t looking. I wanted to feel like the center of someone’s world.
But maybe I was asking too much.
“That’s sweet of you,” Nora was saying when I refocused on the conversation. “I think you’re right. Age is a number, and my number is twenty-one.”
“Say, I was kind of in the middle of cooking. Did you have something to tell me when you called?”
“Lacey dear, when did you take up cooking?”
“I started small. Simple stuff, you know.” I glanced towards the kitchen, watching as Marco slid his semi-burned toast into the garbage. “But I have room for improvement.”
“Great! We can do a grandmother/granddaughter cooking class sometime,” Nora said.
“Sounds lovely. Well, I’m going to head back to the kitchen now—”
“I did have one small thing, Lacey dear.” Nora cleared her throat, finally getting to the thing she’d been dancing around this entire call. “I heard from Marco this morning, and he said you’re planning on kicking him and his two friends out today.”
“Yes, I mentioned that last night to you and to him,” I said. “We have a full house here, and I think it’s best—”
“Just consider letting him stay another night.” Though Nora’s words gave me a choice, her not-so-subtle undertones didn’t. Her tone told me that the cabin was hers, and I should let the guests stay.
“But—”
“Just consider it, darling. Have they bothered you?”
I thought of Marco’s arm around my shoulders. “A little.”
“Well, I do want you to be happy, and I won’t sacrifice that for anything. But just think about it. I’d really appreciate it if you could bear to keep them around for another day.”
“I’ll consider it. But it might be helpful if you can tell me why it’s so important that he’s here.”
“I can’t tell you that, dear. I’ve got to go now.” With an abrupt click, Nora left me on the line without a goodbye.
What on earth was she going on about? If hosting Marco and friends was about smoothing over Family ties, then why hadn’t Carlos asked for my help instead of Nora? Maybe Carlos didn’t know about Nora’s request. That would make sense if Nora was trying to set me up with a husband. But even so...if she wanted me to be happy, why on earth was she pushing me so hard towards someone with whom I shared zero chemistry?
Chapter 15
“What’s happening?” I asked, rejoining the party in the kitchen after Nora’s cryptic phone call. I stood by Meg’s side, next to the center island. Sitting across from one another, Anthony and Marco sat in complete silence. Neither man spoke, they merely watched one another warily.
“Anthony told Marco that if he wants to stay, he has to let Anthony interview him!” Meg hissed. “Girl, I think Anthony’s jealous.”
“What does he have to be jealous of?” I glanced at Meg, keeping my voice quiet enough so that I didn’t interrupt the interview. “I stated very bluntly that I wasn’t interested in Marco and that Anthony was my boyfriend.”
“Men,” Meg grunted.
“What brings you here?” Anthony began with the questions.
Marco responded in Italian. I couldn’t understand a word of his answer.
“Please, English so the ladies can understand.” Anthony flicked his eyes my way.
Marco looked annoyed for a moment, then nodded. “Of course. Anything for my lady.”
“I’m not your lady,” I chimed in. “I’m just Lacey. I’m my own lady.”
“Dude, Marco,” Meg shook her head. “You need a new pickup line. It’s not working.”
“Who are you? Where are you from? And why are you here?” Anthony asked, his tone serious.
“You have no business knowing.” Marco crossed his stumpy little arms.
“I certainly have business knowing.” Anthony’s eyes flashed with energy; he was in his element. “And if you’re such a dear friend to Nora and Carlos, you won’t have any problem giving me the answers I need. Then, I’ll consider leaving you alone.”
“I’m a friend of Nora’s,” Marco clarified.
“Lacey was kind enough to let you stay here on good faith last night. I’m not so nice. If you don’t give me the answers I need, I’ll have you removed from the premises.” Anthony’s arms twitched as if anxious to remove Marco himself. “You and your two friends.”
“How you know Alfie and Dan?” Marco looked confused.
Anthony leaned forward, his voice low. “I’m watching you. Now answer the damn questions.”
Marco cleared his throat and puffed his chest out, but his attempt to be bold and brave fell far short.
“I will answer, then.” He took a sip of espresso. “I am from Milano, the north of Italy. Alfie and Dan are from Chicago. All three of us are Italian, obviously, and my grandfather knew Lacey’s grandfather back in Italy.”
“What does that have to do with your showing up at my girlfriend’s vacation house?” Anthony’s voice remained level, streaked with a threat.
I barely heard Marco’s response, focusing instead on the fact that Anthony had called me his girlfriend. Though we held the “relationship” title now, I still wasn’t used to him admitting it in public, in front of others. I definitely liked it.
“I don’t know how our grandparents knew each other, but I do know that Carlos and my grandfather fell out of touch. I immigrated to America one month ago, and I know nobody. Alfie and Dan are Italian also, so when I met them I asked them to be my friends. We live in piccola – how you say? Little Italy.”
I bit into a piece of toast, my nose wrinkling at the stale flavor. I caught Meg eyeing it hungrily, so I passed my plate to her. She happily devoured it, making me feel a tiny bit good about my attempt at cooking. Maybe I had inherited Nora’s talents in the kitchen. That didn’t bode well for Anthony – an Italian girlfriend who couldn’t cook. I was a rare bird, that’s for sure.
“You’re still not telling me why you’re here. Now. Today.” Anthony shifted from his stool, taking the moment to stand and stretch. He’d dressed in his standard black shirt and pants, and the sheer number of abs visible through the material worked as a threat against Marco.
Marco must have deduced a similar threat because he fiddled with his espresso cup. “My mother in Italy talk with Lacey’s grandmother, Nora. The two ladies figure that we’re about the same age, we’re both Italian, and Lacey is okay-looking.”
“Whoa, whoa! Only okay?” I held up my hand. “My own grandmother said I was okay-looking?”
“You’re better than okay,” Meg chimed in. “But I think if you let me dress you, we could really bump up your status to sexpot. You know, really work your assets.” I stared at the heavens, telling myself I’d never go on vacation again. It was more relaxing working on an assignment for Carlos, and that wasn’t saying much.
“Lacey, it’s simple. You’re of the age to have babies. Nora wants great-grandbabies.” Marco smiled, his eyes shining. “I want babies and woman.”
“Oh, my goodness,” I sighed into the crumbs on my plate.
“So, you came up here just to meet Lacey?” Anthony crossed his arms over his chest. “Your mother and Nora set up this little rendezvous to surprise Lacey, and that’s it? There’s nothing else?”
“This is just about getting married,” Marco said. “When I explained to Nora that I wanted a woman and babies, she invited me up here the same weekend as her granddaughter, to meet. Alfie, Dan, and I – we flew from Chicago to Minneapolis and drove here. And then last night, I met Lacey, mi amore.”
“I’m not your woman, and I’m not your amore,” I said. “Just to throw that out there. I had nothing to do with planning my future wedding with you.”
“And what are your plans now that Lacey has explained she wants nothing to do with you?” Anthony locked eyes with Marco. I could tell the thought of my not being interested had never crossed Marco’s mind.
Marco raised a hand to cover his mouth as he cleared his throat. “Ahh, well. I work to take Lacey back as my bride.”
“That’s kidnapping, for starters. Secondly, don’t I get a say in my future?” I crossed my arms.
“It’s not kidnapping if you fall in love with me.” Marco shrugged.
“Marco, I...” I sighed. I just couldn’t explain anymore. Clearly, nothing was getting through to the man. “I need a real breakfast. Meg, are you interested?”
Meg swallowed the last of Anthony’s leftover toast and set her dish in the sink. “That sounds fabulous.”
“I’m coming with you,” Anthony said. “Protection.”
“No, please.” I walked across the room, placing my hand gently on his chest and lightly kissing his cheek. “I appreciate all you’ve done, but this is still a ladies’ weekend, and I promised Meg some girl time. Let us go get breakfast in peace, please.”
“Where are you going?” Anthony asked.
“There’s a diner in town, I’m sure. We’ll just head that way and stop at the first pancake house we can find.” I didn’t quite meet Anthony’s eyes. There was the slight fact that we might stop by Gabe’s on the way back, and I didn’t want him to worry.
“Do you have your phone on you?” Anthony raised an eyebrow.
I nodded.
“Will you answer if I call?” he asked.
I grinned. “Of course.”
“Will you answer if I call?” Marco asked.
I shook my head and grabbed my keys from the counter. “We won’t be gone long. Just let us have some alone time to girl talk.”
Meg and I waltzed out of the house, down the front steps to the porch. As soon as I saw the Lumina, I turned around and waltzed right back inside.
“That was quick.” Anthony had barely moved from his intimidating stance in the kitchen doorway.
“Can I use someone’s keys?” I asked the room in general. “I’m not driving my car.”
“The body’s gone,” Anthony said. “The police took it away last night once they were done taking pictures and gathering what they needed. I had a cleaning crew come by before you were awake this morning.”
“That is incredibly sweet of you, but I’m still not taking my car.” I shivered. “Please don’t make me take it.”
Anthony moved to pull keys fro
m his pocket. “How about I chauffeur you to the diner?”
Marco was quicker to respond. “Use my car, mi amore. A thank you for letting me stay another night.”
“Another night?” My eyes narrowed. “No. If I take your car that means you can’t leave.”
“I wouldn’t leave anyway. Not without saying goodbye,” Marco said. “So you might as well use it and have fun.”
I considered his proposition. If he wasn’t going to be leaving anyway, then what was the harm in borrowing his car?
“Thank you very much,” I huffed. I appreciate it. We won’t be gone long.”
Chapter 16
“THIS IS AMAZING.” MEG stared at her concoction of hash browns, gravy, fries, mayo, ketchup, and a variety of other greasy looking things. “This diner is the holy grail of breakfast food.”
“Thanks, sweets!” The sweetest, tiniest woman I’d ever met swooped by the old-timey counter, heaping another serving of potatoes onto Meg’s plate. “I’m Laurelei. I own the place. Glad to hear you’re liking the food.”
“This isn’t a matter of like.” I shook my head, halfway done with my plate already. “I think I’m in love.”
“Well, no matter how long I’m here, that’s still music to my ears. My husband, he died twenty years ago, and I kept this place up all by my lonesome.” On the outside, the woman looked like the perfect grandmother: coiffed gray hair, a syrup-scented, adorable apron draped over her shoulders, and a ready smile for anyone who walked in the door.
Which is why I was so surprised the first time I heard her speak. Her voice came out as gravelly as a torn up side street, and I caught a glimpse of a tattoo peeking out from under her T-shirt as she poured me more coffee.
“How long have you been here?” I asked our hostess. I nodded towards Meg. “We’re having a girls’ weekend, and it’s the first time we’ve been to Tonka.”
“I been here since the glaciers cleared out, honey,” Laurelei said with a smile. “This here’s my home. What did you say your names were?”
“I’m Lacey and this is Meg,” I said, speaking for my friend who was busy inhaling sausage.
