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She was excited. I could see it in her eyes. “I don’t think that I’m the best person to give you advice on female décor.”
She chuckled and wrapped her small arms around me. They barely encompassed me. “I miss when I was able to squeeze you in my arms.” She squeezed me as hard as she could, which wasn’t very hard, and I patted her forearms. “You are a grown man now.”
I chuckled. “Yes,” I agreed. “A grown man who needs to study for his finale exams.”
She released me and took a step back. My mother and I were close. I’d gotten my love of learning from her. Unable to go to college, she’d done everything she could to encourage Matteo and I to do more than just focus on our physical form.
Matteo ignored her.
But we’d always bonded over books and art. Sometimes, it felt like she was the only person I could trust.
“I’m sorry, darling.” This time her small hand came to my forehead. She moved my hair out of my face tenderly. I allowed it. Despite that I wasn’t one for such shows of affection, my mother was someone who’d always been touchy feely. She wore her heart on her sleeve.
“About?”
She bit her lip. “Your father.”
I sighed and moved away from her. “He works quick,” I said. “I just left him at the office.”
Her lips turned down in a frown. “I’ll talk to him. After Carla leaves…”
“Who even is this girl? Why is she coming to stay with us?” I looked around the room. It had once been a guest room, and the only person I could recall staying in it was my cousin. Now, my mother spent the day having the space redecorated, and it looked like something out of a teen girl magazine.
“Your father didn’t say much except that he owes her father a favor.”
“And he’s repaying that favor by sending her here?”
Her shoulders shrugged slightly. “I didn’t ask all that.”
“Why?” That was unlike my mother. Ivy Blanchi was not the stereotypical mob wife. Though she supported my father, she did not do so blindly, and there were plenty of times when they’d fought, usually about something pertaining to Matteo and me.
“This girl needs help,” she said. “I didn’t think I needed to pick at why.”
Rolling my eyes, I crossed my hands over my chest. “Well, I’d like to know why my life is being taken over by some random chick.” There was anger in my voice. The more I thought about it, the more my frustration grew. I didn’t owe this girl’s father shit, and yet, I was the one on the hook for things.
“I know that you aren’t happy about it, but please, please, please welcome this girl. Your father didn’t tell me much, but I know she’s had a difficult time of things.”
I felt a small twinge of sympathy in my heart as I looked at my mother. I didn’t like the position I was putting her in. I pressed off the wall. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll play nice.”
“Thank you.” She smiled at me, her eyes looking over the room. “Now, I just got to get this room ready for her.”
“Why are you changing things? The room was fine.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’d think that.”
She played with an empty frame on the white oak dresser she’d purchased. I wondered if she was throwing herself into all of this because she was excited to have a girl coming to live with us. Matteo’s birth had been hard, from what I’d heard, and after that my parents decided not to have any more children.
I’d never thought too much about it, but I wondered if my mom was excited to have another female in the house.
Not that it mattered. The minute I could get rid of this girl, Carla, I would. And in the meantime, she better not give me any problems.
CHAPTERFOUR
Thankfully, it was June in New York City, so the weather wasn’t cold. I didn’t do well in freezing temperatures. Having lived in Southern California my whole life, I was used to a more temperate climate.
I hadn’t wanted to come to New York, and I’d fought my father every step of the way. If I also had to contend with a New England winter, I might have fled south to Mexico.
“Mr. Blanchi apologizes for not being able to meet you at the airport. Their eldest son graduated a week ago, and they got stuck in Antigua on a family vacation. They’ll probably be pulling into the house the same time that we are,” my driver, an older man with gray hair and a warm smile, said.
