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CHAPTER NINETEEN
Cammie - 1 day
It was ridiculous how nervous I was. Even after nearly a full day to come to terms with the upcoming dinner.
I think, really, what it all boiled down to the fact that… it really mattered.
It mattered to me that his mom liked me, that his sister liked me, his other brothers, his cousins, his second-cousins.
I wanted them to be able to look at me as someone who belonged in the family, because that was, ultimately, what I wanted.
Yes, things were new.
But I was pretty sure Massimo was the one.
I didn’t begin to understand it, but there was just some sort of… certainty in me.
And I wasn’t sure I’d ever been so certain about anything in my life before.
If I wanted to be a part of his life, then I would need to be a part of his family’s lives.
So first impressions were important. And I just felt… so out of my depths.
So I obsessed about the things I could control. Like what I wore.
I swear I tried on fifty different outfits before I decided on one that seemed to toe the line between casual and fancy, something that would look good next to Massimo’s suit, but also not look like I was trying too hard.
A simple black dress that, when I came out of the dressing room, Massimo had declared that Valley would be disappointed she didn’t get to it first.
Since I knew that Valley was a bit of a fashion freak, I figured that was the best compliment he could have given me about it.
“Are you coming?” I called, standing in the kitchen, trying not to work myself into too many knots because I didn’t want to show up any more anxious than necessary.
“Babe, just because Ma says to come at six doesn’t mean that is when we have to show up.”
“But she is cooking,” I insisted.
“Sort of. She will be cooking when we get there. And then the other women will help out as they trickle in. It’s a casual thing. The time is a suggestion, not a demand. But I’m ready,” he told me as he slipped in his cufflinks. “You look amazing,” he told me, pressing a kiss to my cheek because I’d put on some red lipstick because I thought it might make me seem a little more confident than I felt. “Let’s get going before you get yourself any more worried.”
With that, we left his surprisingly cozy modern-styled home and headed just about eight minutes—yes, I was watching the time—down the road to his mother’s house.
She had a completely different style preference than her second son.
Instead of his sleek, modern, minimalistic style, Giulia liked all things classic and intricate.
It applied to her home itself—a Second Empire style home with its duel-pitched hip roof and ornate cornices and balustrades.
It also applied to her gardens that were plentiful and abundant with all sorts of flowers—poppies, allium, columbines, delphiniums, and irises. There were ferns hanging from the roof of the porch.
Even the front path had a pattern to the pavers.
“You alright?” Massimo asked as I stopped near the steps to the porch and looked up at the house.
“Yeah. I was just thinking that this looks like the house where everyone’s favorite grandma lives. Like there would always be fresh cookies out of the oven and a big playground in the back.”
“Do me a favor and tell my mother that. She will eat it up,” he said, pressing a hand to my lower back to lead me in.
There were quite a few cars in the driveway and on the road, but I don’t think I had truly been prepared for the number of people that would be inside, despite all of Massimo’s warnings about how many of his family members showed up to events.
