I wrung my hands together as I realized the truth of my situation. A childhood of poverty and frequent, violent, visits from the mafia had adhered my siblings, Mama and I together like paint on canvas but after I left Italy five years ago I had purposely kept my emotional distance from them. I had needed the space to recover from Christopher.
Now, I was paying the price. I had no idea what was going on with my siblings and worse, I hadn’t even known Elena’s God damn boyfriend.
I dragged a deep handful of city air into my lungs and opened the door.
Soft Italian opera floated on the fragrant air and the murmur of late lunch diners lent the rustic, elegant interior a homey feel. The exposed brick walls were lined with shelves full of Italian wines and the wood beamed ceiling perfectly matched the dark chocolate stain of the table and chairs.
Loud throaty laughter drew my attention to the back of the long rectangular room to the table where the Lombardi family sat.
“Giselle,” the twins and Mama called out at the same time, their musical voices chiming.
Mama got up to wrap me in her sweet dough scented arms and I felt myself relaxing a bit. It had been a long time since my mother held me.
“I order for you,” she said as I settled beside my brother.
He quickly placed a kiss on my hand in greeting. I watched him check the screen of his buzzing phone and smile roguishly.
Mama swatted at him with a fierce frown. “You know the rules, patatino. Phone down.”
Seb chuckled but his phone disappeared with a cool slight of hand. “I’m a grown man, Mama, I think we can stop with the nickname.”
I cocked my head playfully and squinted at him. “I don’t know, you do kind of look like a potato.”
He bristled because his beauty wasn’t something he took for granted but he surprised me by saying, “That is Mr. Potato Head to you. Who do you think they modeled those suckers off of?”
Elena remained absent as the food was brought out and we all tucked into Mama’s delicious meal but I decided not to remark on it. Instead, I teased Cosima about the make up she still wore from her animal print themed shoot in Central Park and Sebastian told me about the development of a film he was intent on directing and starring in. After three glasses of wine and a heaping plate of Mama’s pillow soft ricotta gnocchi, I felt as if I had never left the family table.
“Where is she?” I asked because my tongue was loosened from the Chianti.
They didn’t have to ask whom I was speaking about.
“Appointment with the adoption firm.”
I looked sharply at Sebastian. How had I forgotten that Elena wanted to adopt? My stomach flipped and I placed a hand over my mouth, certain I might be sick.
“How far along are they?”
I could feel Cosima’s careful gaze as Seb answered. “Early days. They’ve been approved but no matches yet.”
“No wedding?”
Cosima had mentioned over the phone that Sinclair didn’t believe in marriage but perversely, I wanted to hear them talk about him.
“He is a handsome man but the family idea is,” Mama pursed her lips as she fought to translate her words into English, “broken. Marriage for him is a cage.”
“And a baby isn’t?” My voice was remarkably calm even though my heart thudded loudly inside my ribcage. Any sister would ask questions about the boyfriend so I didn’t think I was being too conspicuous.
Mama shrugged. “They do it differently in America.”
“He’s French,” I automatically corrected her.
My nails dug into the skin above my knees as punishment for my stupidity.
“I know what you mean though,” Cosima said. Her golden stare made sweat fizzle under my skin. “Honestly, I think that he wants a baby to please Elena. He would do anything to make her happy.”
I was careful to school my features into a pleasant but unconcerned expression and gave a noncommittal, “Mmm.”
“I’m not a fan.”