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“Hi, Daddy.”
“Are you okay? Where are you? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine, I promise. I’m in Boston.”
“What the fuck are you doing in Boston?” Dad shouts.
“There’s no need to yell at her,” I shout right back. Matilde turns to me, eyes wide, shaking her head.
“Who the fuck is that?” he asks, and I pray that she tells him the truth.
“It’s my husband.”
“Your what?” her mom asks, between sniffles.
“My husband.”
“I know for a fucking fact you don’t have a husband Matilde Emerson Vitali. No man has presented himself to me and asked for your hand.”
“Well, about that… I couldn’t help it. He asked, and said yes,” she says, surprising me.
“Are you pregnant, Matty?” her mom whispers.
“No, Mama. I mean I guess I could be, but that’s not the reason we got married. I promise.”
“Who is this man?” her father asks coldly.
“You actually know him.”
“It had better not be Ryan Ventaglimia. He’s gone missing and Tesoro will kill you,” her mom chimes in.
“It’s definitely not Ryan. It’s Dorian O’Shaughnessy.”
“From dinner the other day?” her mom asks.
“Yes.”
“You just met him.”
“I know… so the Vitali love at first sight thing happened and the O'Shaughnessy's have the same kind of thing. It was unstoppable.”
“My baby is married?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Did you at least get married in the Church?”
“Yes we did. Father Flanagan was great,” she says.
“And you are happy?” her father asks.
“Of course I’m happy, Daddy.”
“We’ve been worried sick, Matty. You’ve been gone for almost four days. You couldn’t have found the time to call before now?”
“I’m sorry. I was busy and I lost my phone somewhere.”
“I have it here. You left it work. We thought you were murdered.”
