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I remember what Enzo told me about not saying anything about Emilio. Serafina must mean Matteo and Marco.
“Matteo is two hours younger than Marco. Both were born on their due dates.”
She cocks an eyebrow and grins.
“What does Maria call Domenico and Carlotta? And what does Matteo call Massimo and Nicoletta?”
“The same things they always have, uncle and auntie. But you’ll notice I call Paola Mama and Cesare Papa. Olivia calls Auntie Nicoletta Mama and Uncle Massimo Papa. Sinead is still getting used to it, but all the wives who married into the family call the others uncle and auntie too. It’s rather nice.”
I’m sure it is. Except I’m not so certain how my mom would feel hearing me call another woman Mama. It almost makes me feel like I should call mine Mommy again since Mom sounds sterile in comparison. Fucking-a. I’m getting miles ahead of myself. I know Enzo and I are talking about a future, but we aren’t there yet.
Serafina puts her hand on my upper arm and gives it a squeeze.
“It’s a gigantic family, but it’s a loving one. Most people would assume they wouldn’t like outsiders. But that’s not the case. We’ve already accepted you because you’re important to Enzo. That’s all we need to know.”
“You and Maria grew up with this stuff. What about Olivia?”
“No. Her family tree is about as complicated as mine, so it’ll be easier for her to explain. Sinead’s family has ties to the Irish, but not close ones.”
That surprises me. I never would have guessed because I know Sinead’s mom and sister died a long time ago, and I think her dad’s sick. But I guess I should have figured there was some connection with a name as purely Irish as Sinead O’Malley.
I pull my attention back to the conversation when Serafina speaks again.
“Do you think anything here will work?”
“All of them. Are jeans and that green top all right? They aren’t too informal together?”
“They’re great. You saw everyone downstairs. The men always have suits on since it—”
She snaps her mouth shut.
“Since it?”
“Gives off a certain impression.”
I don’t believe for a moment that’s what she meant. It makes me think of something Enzo said.
“It’s to hide their guns, isn’t it?”
She says nothing, and I realize I’m going to get a lot of that, and not just from Enzo.
“Enzo said something about normally wearing one, but hadn’t been because he didn’t want to scare me. A suit coat would hide shoulder or lower back holsters. I don’t think any of them would ever wear hip holsters.”
Her expression doesn’t change, but neither does she deny it. Silence is consent.
“The women are all casually dressed, and don’t worry about being barefoot.”
She looks down at my strappy high heel sandals. I didn’t think to change them since we never made it to my place.
“Thank you so much for this. It’s very kind of you.”
“I know you’re very close to Laura Kutsenko. I don’t know how much you know about her in-laws, but if our families weren’t rivals, they’d probably be friends. We aren’t that different.”
I can only nod to that. Serafina’s husband is probably the most hated man alive to the Kutsenkos. At least he was. They seem to have tempered their loathing to just disdain. Except for Niko. I doubt he’ll ever get past what Carmine, Luca, and Gabriele did and how close he came to losing his wife, Anastasia. Apparently, Carmine was the mastermind. I only know because I overheard a conversation I shouldn’t have.
“I see you know about Carmine.”
Shit.
