Gio
It was everything I could do not to bash my brother’s face in when I felt Marissa trembling beside me. I think Junior must’ve recognized the depth of my rage, because he was uncommonly kind. Or maybe he’s just changed.
Desiree and fatherhood have given him a new lease on life.
I had no idea how much Marissa still suffers from having that gun pointed at her, although I should have realized. Her hands shook the day I came into the cafe. I thought it was because I startled her. But no, her PTSD is as bad as mine-that’s why she recognized the signs in me.
We all gather in the kitchen to eat antipasto from a platter while my mom and Junior finish dinner.
Everyone keeps shooting curious glances at my date. They will be asking me about her for an eternity now, but I don’t give a shit. I wanted her here. She makes me feel alive for the first time in years.
I keep her close to my body, my arm draped loosely around her waist. It’s a signal to my family that she’s absolutely under my protection, not that I expect anyone to offend her. There’s more ease in our family gatherings than ever before, but old habits die hard.
Dinner is my favorite-stuffed shells with homemade sausage. Marissa is a sweetheart, exclaiming over the food and cleaning her plate, despite the fact that it’s not the gourmet cuisine she likes to make.
She fits in, though. She joins the noisy conversation. Talks to Desiree and my mom. To Jasper. She has that ease with the family that Desiree did from the start. I know it’s nuts-way too fucking soon-but I fantasize about making this permanent. Putting a big shiny ring on her finger and keeping her forever.
But I know I’m way ahead of myself. She only just let her defenses down in bed. She’s still pretty damn far from allowing me into the rest of her life.
“Is it time for cake?” Jasper asks the moment I clean my plate.
“Is there cake?” I feign surprise.
“Yes!” He jumps out of his chair. “Chocolate cake with raspberry filling. Nonna made it.”
My mother beams. She loves that the boy already calls her Nonna, like she’s been his grandmother his whole life. “Well, I think we’d better get the plates cleared so we can have cake. Can you help, Jasper?” I hand him mine and he cruises into the kitchen with it.
Marissa tries to get up, but I pull her back down. “Sit with me, angel.”
“Why don’t you play something on the piano while we clean up?” my mom suggests.
“Yes,” Marissa agrees. “Why don’t you?”
It’s an old routine, but it feels new with Marissa here. I take her hand and pull her with me to the piano. It’s my first piano-the one my mom badgered my dad into getting me. My oldest friend.
I sit down and consider Marissa. Then I smile when I think of what to play. I start playing and singing one of the first love songs I learned to play-She’s Always a Woman, by Billy Joel. I sing it right to Marissa, who blushes and nibbles her plump lower lip. By the time I finish, the rest of the family has gathered.
“Who sings that?” Marissa asks. Of course it was way before her time.
“Billy Joel,” I say, playing the start of Piano Man in homage.
“The piano man, himself,” Paolo says with a derisive edge to his voice. “There was a time when little Gio dreamed of playing in piano bars just like old Billy, didn’t you?” He laughs and slaps me on the back.
“And why shouldn’t he, if that was his dream?” Marissa challenges. She levels her gaze at Paolo like she’s daring him to make fun of me.
My lips twitch.
The rest of the family blink in surprise.
“Yeah, I’m, uh…” Why is it so fucking hard to tell them? I still feel like it’s this shameful, embarrassing thing.
Junior hones in on it. “Are you playing publicly, Gio?” He sounds surprised, but not judgmental.
“Yeah. Well, I’m thinking about it. See, I bought this restaurant.”
“What?” My ma says loudly. “You bought a restaurant? Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“What restaurant?” Paolo demands.
“It’s called Michelangelo’s. Marissa’s a chef there and, uh, yeah. We moved a piano in today.”
“No shit.” Junior sounds stunned.
“Language, Junior,” my mother chides. “I think it’s wonderful, Gio. When do you play? I’ll come every night.”
I laugh. “Please don’t, Ma. And I haven’t started yet. Still in the planning phase.”
“Good for you,” Junior says, and I have no indication he doesn’t mean it.
Paolo’s still looking at me like I have two heads, and he’s clearly keeping his mouth shut because he can’t say anything nice. Well, fuck him.
I lift my hands and drop them on the keys again, playing my best rendition of The Beatles’ Birthday, singing and hamming it up to make Jasper laugh.
When I get up from the bench, I knit my fingers through Marissa’s and lean down to murmur “thank you” in her ear. When she turns her face up to mine, I steal a quick kiss from her. “You really are an angel.”
“Gio,” she murmurs, her intelligent eyes trained on mine. She’s searching for something, but I can’t tell what.
“I’d do anything for you, doll,” I tell her in a low voice as we head back to the dining room for cake.
Her intake of breath gives me shivers. Her expression is a mixture of fear and hope. Again, I’m not sure how to decipher it.
I think she’s deciding whether to give me her heart.