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“There’s a big age gap between you and your brothers.”
“Yeah. There’s five years between Bruno and Aldo, five between me and Aldo. Then Liza came along a year after me. I’m pretty sure she was my mom’s last-ditch attempt at getting her girl.”
“Must have been nice growing up with brothers and a sister. Being an only child sucks.”
“Yeah, it is cool, but sometimes I think I missed out on too much of the sibling stuff because I was always away, playing hockey. Daily practices, games, the travel I mentioned. And it’s gotten worse since we’ve become adults.”
“What do you mean?” Gianna asked.
“I’m the one who moved away. Hockey keeps me on the road and busy most of the year. Bruno’s kids know me as Uncle Elio, but they’re still shy around me. Meanwhile, Uncle Aldo shows up and they’re dive-bombing him, begging him to wrestle and play with them.”
Gianna sensed regret in Elio’s voice, which was strange because she’d genuinely believed he loved his chosen life path.
“Aldo and Liza have the same group of friends, so they hang out together all the time.”
“You’re a part of that group,” Gianna interjected.
“Part-time, at best. Apart from my relatives, I’m not exactly close to the rest of the friends in that circle, simply because I’m never around. I mean it was nice of Penny to invite me to her wedding, but I probably haven’t spoken to her more than a handful of times over the years. And you and I…until this week…”
“We were acquaintances,” she filled in for him.
“Yeah. That’s exactly what we were.”
“You know,” she said, “hockey isn’t forever.”
He nodded. “I know that.”
“Will you come back to Philly after you retire from the game?”
“Oh, hell yeah. Baltimore is great, but it’s never been home.”
“What will you do after you stop playing?”
He shrugged as he rose, grabbing her glass and his to fill up with more water. By tacit agreement, neither of them had had anything else alcoholic to drink since their tequila night. Her because there was a chance she was pregnant. And him…well, he didn’t say it aloud, but she got the feeling he was eschewing alcohol as some form of support or camaraderie.
“Would you coach?” she asked, when he brought the glasses back, placing them on the table. She smiled her thanks.
He shook his head. “Not professionally. Maybe as a volunteer coach for the leagues I grew up in.”
She pressed, curious about his future plans. “Would you go work for Moretti Brothers Restorations?”
“God, no. I’m a fair hand with a hammer, but I don’t see me building anything.”
“Would you go back to school?”
A small smirk crossed Elio’s face. “I hated school. Did what I had to do to get my C’s and got the hell out.”
She huffed out a breath. “Do you have any plans at all?”
“Nope,” he admitted. “I always thought I’d figure it out when I needed to.”
Her eyes widened. “Zero plans?”
“Is that making your brain itch?” he asked, recalling her problem with their overflowing liquor cabinet.
“Yes.”
“Will it help if I promise to give it some serious thought when I get back to Baltimore?”
