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She pressed
her lips together. “I never thought you’d be my son-in-law, Jeremy Hartwell.”
“Neither did I.” I grinned.
“Well, come here. We hug in this family.” She motioned me toward her. I stepped closer as she wrapped her small frame into a hug.
I tried to think of the last time my own mother had hugged me. It wasn’t at the will reading. It wasn’t at my father’s funeral. It had been so long, I couldn’t place the memory. I was sure as a child she must have held me, or brought me onto her lap, but even that was hard to picture. We weren’t an affectionate family. I had grown used to it.
As soon as Mrs. Rossi let go, Frannie pounced.
“I can’t believe you, Jeremy,” she squealed. Frannie’s perfume was strong and citrus-laden. She was louder than her younger sister, but just as beautiful. It was another reminder I hadn’t paid enough attention to the Rossi girls in high school.
“Good to see you Frannie.”
I felt Evie’s hand slide into mine. There was an adoring look in her eyes.
“Evelyn, we need to get going,” her mother spoke quickly.
“Going?” I looked at them.
Frannie plucked Evie’s coat from the hook. “Yes, we’re throwing Evie’s bridal luncheon this afternoon. The bride cannot be late.”
“Bridal luncheon?”
Evie laughed. “Don’t worry. You are exempt from this one. Stay here and work.” She fastened her coat and grabbed her new designer handbag.
Frannie’s jaw dropped. “Where did you get that?”
“Jeremy bought it for me,” she answered. I didn’t know if she was proud or embarrassed of our wealth, but she had eased into high-end shopping and hadn’t argued with me about it since our first day in New York.
“You bought her a Vella bag?” Her eyes bulged.
I stuck my hands in my pockets. “Looks good on her, don’t you think?”
“I need to give Marcus a new Christmas list,” she added, walking toward the door. “That bag is going at the top of it.”
Mrs. Rossi and Frannie walked outside and Evie paused in the doorway. “I don’t think I’ll be gone long. Girl stuff, you know.”
“I have plenty to do. Don’t worry,” I assured her. “Have a good time.”
All I wanted to do was pull her back to the couch and finish what we started. We were only in town for the weekend. The party was tomorrow night and we had to fly home Sunday. She didn’t have much time to spend with her family. I didn’t know what happened at bridal luncheons, but I had a feeling it was something Evie wanted. It was one more chance for her to get back the bridal traditions we had annihilated when we eloped.
A gust of cold air blew through the open door.
“Go,” I urged. “They’re waiting for you.”
“We won’t have much time when I get home before the family dinner.”
It was the one thing I wasn’t looking forward to doing, but it came with the package. I was going to have to face her father eventually. Maybe around the Rossi family dinner table was a better option than at our reception.
“Got it. Have fun.” I winked.
She pulled the latch and was gone. I turned around and faced the empty townhouse where my wife used to live. I could have poured over spreadsheets. I could have gotten on the phone with Sasha and prepped her for the ball tomorrow night. I could have read the investor profiles.
I never touched my laptop. Instead, I walked to the laundry closet and found a folded stack of cardboard. I searched drawers until I found packing tape. One by one I assembled the boxes. I started with the pictures of her nieces and nephew on the console table. Then I tackled the books by the fireplace. I kept moving through the room until it was packed.
I hit the kitchen next.
