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I don’t bother knocking before opening the door. We can hear voices in the living room, and it sounds like everyone is here. I lead Chellie inside.
“Enzo?”
“Yes, Mama. We’re here.”
I slide my hand into Chellie’s and give it a squeeze before we enter the lion’s den. Everyone looks in our direction as Maria steps forward. I know she takes Chellie by surprise, but she gives my girlfriend a hug. For all her mischief making, Maria is the sweetest person you’ll meet. You’d never guess she’s been raised with hardened criminals.
“Hi, Michelle.”
“Hi.”
I barely hear my sister as she whispers.
“There’s a lot of us, and we’re noisy. But no one is as scary as they appear.”
She links arms with Chellie and practically pulls her away as she starts the introductions. I open my mouth, but she shoots me a look over the top of Chellie’s head. Having her introduce everyone makes it more lighthearted than me introducing Chellie as my girlfriend to a bunch of men so deep in the Mafia world she can only imagine half of what they do.
“Michelle, these are my parents, Massimo and Nicoletta. You know Matteo. These are his parents, Domenico and Carlotta. Yes, Nicoletta and Carlotta. Lettie and Lotta. They were destined to be best friends.”
Chellie smiles warmly at my parents, but I can tell she’s not sure if there’s something she should say besides hello as she shakes their hands. Fortunately, Maria continues.
“This is my cousin Carmine and his wife, Serafina.”
“Hi. I have some things you can borrow in a bag on the stairs. Though that gown is absolutely stunning on you.”
Sera gushes, but it’s entirely sincere, and I can tell that between Maria and Sera, Chellie is feeling a little less nervous.
“The two with the baby are my oldest brother, Luca, and his wife, Olivia, and their daughter, Petra.”
I watch her eyes light up when Luca turns his daughter, so Chellie can see the little cherubic face. She’s sleeping and blowing bubbles, and it makes me think about what children with Chellie would look like. But Maria interrupts my daydream by continuing the introductions.
“I think you already know Sinead, but this is Gabriele. And the last man standing is Marco.”
She shoots my next older brother a smug smile, and the teasing in her voice makes my lips twitch. Marco is the one who swears he’ll be a bachelor until his last breath. He’s seen the rest of us pair off, and our parents are blissfully happy to the point of nauseating. But he refuses to consider bringing someone into our world. There’s no one from any of the families beneath us who interests him. We’ll see.
“And last but not least, are Uncle Salvatore and Aunt Sylvia, and Uncle Cesare and Auntie Paola.”
Chellie’s shaken hands with everyone, but now that she’s meeting Uncle Salvatore, I can tell her apprehension skyrockets. She still looks as friendly as she did a moment ago, but she’s leaned imperceptibly closer to me. I can tell because her elbow brushes my arm as she extends hers to shake my uncle’s. I know she must have seen all of us from a distance at Laura and Maks’s reception, but Uncle Salvatore is the quintessential silver fox except his hair isn’t entirely gray.
He has some strands woven in amongst his deep mahogany-colored hair. We all share that same shade of hair. But he’s suave without being a Guido, and his aura shows maturity and self-confidence. He owns who he is without being arrogant. His code name isPantera— Panther. He gained the name when he was younger for being sleek, stealthy, and deadly. Nothing has changed.
He and Aunt Sylvia make the perfect-looking couple. My mother is a beautiful woman, but Aunt Sylvia looks like she just stepped off the runway. Where my mom embodies the in-shape, stylish, approachable middle-aged mom, Aunt Sylvia is the most innately elegant woman I have ever seen. It’s like a Sicilian Martha Stewart met Princess Diana, and Aunt Sylvia was the result. She’s also much younger than the others, barely in her mid-forties while the others are in their fifties. Uncle Salvatore married late, and he always espouses good things come to those who wait.
“Miss Russo, welcome to our home.”
“Thank you, Mr. Mancinelli.”
“Salvatore, please.”
“Michelle.”
“Did you have dinner before you left the event?”
Short of saying “didja eat,” it’s about the most Italian mom thing Aunt Sylvia could have said.
“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Mancinelli.”
“Sylvia. If you say Mrs. Mancinelli, you’ll get Nicoletta, Carlotta, Olivia, Serafina, Sinead, Maria, and me answering.”
