This was Ma’s normal way of answering any call from her children, so it didn’t even give me pause. “Everyone’s fine, Ma. Frankie’s great. I just wanted to let you know that I’m in Philly. Both of us are.”
There was silence at the other end of the line. “Why are you in the city, Vincent?”
I took a deep breath and plunged in. “Amanda’s sick. Some kind of virus has been going around her study group or whatever, and she’s got it. Fever, vomiting, cough, sore throat, headache ... anyway, she was here alone, and so I came over to take care of her.” And then I waited.
As much as I often blustered that my parents were predictable, the truth was that they were not. Not always. I knew that there was as much a chance that my mother would go one way as the other. She had a big heart, and her care for people extended beyond her own beloved family.
“Is she all right?” Ma’s voice was quiet. “Amanda. Is she going to be okay? Do you need me to come over there and help?”
I leaned against the wall of the kitchen and sagged a little, more relieved than I’d expected to be. “I think she’s okay. Pretty sure her fever broke just now. I gave her some of your ginger ale and some pain meds, and I’m making her chicken soup. Oh, and Frankie and I are making bread, too.”
“All right. Good.” She paused. “You’re keeping Frankie away from the germs, right?”
“Yeah, I told her to stay in the living room, and she has. Plus, I’m making her wash her hands every time she touches anything.”
“With soap?”
“Of course, with soap, Ma. I’m not an idiot.” I rolled my eyes, safe in the knowledge that my mother was sixty miles away and couldn’t smack the back of my head.
“Didn’t say you were, son. But you’re not used to having a child around all the time, either. So when are you heading back home?”
This was going to be the sticky point. “The thing is, Ma, I don’t think Amanda should be alone overnight. I called her mother, and she’s in New York. She can’t get down here to be with her.”
This time, the pause was longer. “You want to stay there alone? All night?”
“Yeah, I’m going to stay. We are.”
And now she began to fuss. “Vincent, your niece is a child. She’s young and impressionable—”
Irritation bubbled up inside me. “Don’t worry, Ma. When Amanda and I are having all the kinky sex I have planned for tonight, we’ll close the bedroom door and make Frankie wear ear plugs. She’ll never know what’s going on.”
“Vincent Joseph DiMartino—”
“Ma, I’m kidding. What do you think of me? First off, Amanda’s sick. Like, really sick. All she’s going to do is sleep, and all I’m going to do is keep my eye on her. Second, I’m not stupid. I’d never do anything to put Frankie in danger or to expose her to ... anything that made you uncomfortable. Jesus, Ma. Give me some credit.”
“You stop taking the Lord’s name in vain, and we’ll talk about credit,” she snapped back. “And cut out the smart talk. I know you’re not stupid. It’s just that Frankie is impressionable. I don’t want her thinking it’s okay for a man and woman to sleep in the same bedroom when they’re not married.”
This was not news to me. I knew Ava had been hurt that before she and Liam got married, Ma wouldn’t let Frankie stay at their house with them, no matter how often Ava offered. I wasn’t going to win this battle today.
“I understand. And I’m telling you that Frankie hasn’t seen anything today that would upset you. She’s baked bread. She helped me make soup. And now she’s watching a movie—rated G. She and I will both sleep out in the living room, while Amanda’s in her bedroom. What more could you want?”
The sigh I heard told me that while she wasn’t exactly pleased, Ma wasn’t going to fight me anymore on this. “Fine. You do exactly as you told me, and it’s fine with me. You can’t leave the girl alone when she’s sick.”
“Thanks, Ma. I appreciate it.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Is there anything else I should do to make Amanda feel better? She’s really sick. Her temperature was a hundred and two.”
“You’re making sure she’s drinking a lot? You’re giving her my homemade ginger ale? And you’ve got chicken soup almost ready? Then I’d say you’re doing everything you can. Sleep, liquids, pain killers ... and time. These things have to run their course.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I felt a little bit better, having my mother validate my methods of care.
“And Vincent, don’t think we’re not going to talk about this when you get home. I knew you had a girl somewhere ... and I won’t lie, I suspected it might be Amanda. I saw you with her at the wedding. Is this serious?”
My chest tightened as the trap closed around me. “Uh ... well ...”
“She’s a nice girl, Vincent. She’s pretty and respectful and friendly. I like her.”
I swallowed. “But?”
“What but? Who’s saying but? I said I like her.”
