Oh, no, she had overdressed. The woman was wearing jeans and a bulky sweater.
Joe edged inside, bringing Carly with him. “Carly, this is my sister, Rosalie.” He gestured at her, and then turned to point to each person in a small living room. “Rosie’s husband, Ralph, my other sister, Donna-Marie, and her husband, Gino. My brother Al, and his wife, Linda, and my brother, Bernardo, and his wife, Mary Beth.” All eyes were on her.
One of the women, the taller one that looked like Joe, stepped forward with her right hand extended. “And there’ll be a test on all our names later.” She smiled as she shook her hand.
“Yeah, I shoulda made all you guys wear name tags.” Joe moved across the room to help an older man struggling to rise from a recliner. “Carly, this is my father, Alfonso Tedesco Sr. Pop, this is Carly.”
“Mr. Tedesco.” Carly nodded.
Joe beamed at her as the older man shuffled forward, took her hand and kissed the back of it with dry lips. “Benvenuti. Welcome.” He was tall and broad just like Joe and his brown eyes twinkled as he smiled at her. Then he turned to Joe. “Molto bella, Joey.”
“I know, Pop.” Joe nodded, meeting her gaze. The intense look in his eyes made her insides smolder. He’d said he loved her!
The baby started crying, Joe’s sister—Rosalie—grabbed an enormous yellow-ducky-print diaper bag, and the rest of Joe’s siblings returned to talking among themselves. The noise level in such a small house was nerve-racking.
A door slammed somewhere at the back of the house and Carly heard the stomp of what sounded like dozens of booted feet and the screech of kids.
The commotion got closer and within seconds children of every size from toddler to preteen stampeded in from the hallway and swarmed around her.
A fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. She stumbled back, warding them off with her hands palm out and a strangled yelp escaped.
The children—actually, the whole house—fell silent.
Carly glanced around the room. Everyone was staring at her as if she’d smacked one of the kids.
“I-I need to wash up.” She threw a pleading look at Joe.
“Let me show you.” He took her hand in his. Addressing his family, he told them to get started with dinner and they’d be right back, then he led her down the hall to a tiny bathroom.
Carly gratefully locked herself inside and turned on the water. Great. She’d been in the house less than ten minutes and she’d already managed to alienate everyone. And Joe wondered why she hadn’t wanted to come here?
Calm down, Carly. Apologize. Blame it on stress. Fishing her compact from her bag, she dabbed powder on her nose, refreshed her lipstick where her teeth had scraped it off and then joined Joe in the hallway.
“You all right?”
“I’m fine.”
Joe sighed and led her into an ornate dining room with a long oak table and matching hutch. Everyone was already seated around the table, except the children.
“Where are the kids?” she whispered to Joe. “I hope I didn’t—”
“Nah, they always eat in the kitchen. No room for all of us in here.” He held out a chair for her at the far end and took the seat beside her.
The woman she’d seen at the airport, his mother Carly presumed, was setting a large casserole dish of lasagna down in front of her husband, and then approached Carly, wiping her hands on her apron.
“So, this is my Joey’s girl? Carly? So nice to finally meet you.”
Finally? She’d only been seeing Joe a few weeks. Carly extended her right hand. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Tedesco.”
“Oh, phtt. Come here, sweetheart.” Waving away the offered hand, she bent and hugged Carly. “And you call me Elena, okay?” She kept hold of her shoulders and embraced her. “Oh, you’re even more beautiful than your picture.”
Joe had showed his mother a picture of her?
“Now, I hope you’re hungry because I cooked enough food for a football team and then Rosie and Donna-Marie brought more.” Joe’s mother took her seat and then looked at Carly expectantly.
“Yes, it all looks delicious.” The woman wasn’t exaggerating about feeding a football team.
Elena beamed. “Joey said you liked my lasagna recipe, so that’s what I made today.”
It seemed Joey had told his mother a lot of things about her. She opened her mouth to thank Elena when everyone bowed their heads, made the sign of the cross and then folded their hands.
Carly bowed her head.
Mr. Tedesco recited a prayer and everyone said, “Amen.” And then dish after dish of food was passed around.
“So, Joey, how’s Richie doing?” Elena asked.
“He’s getting better, Ma. He’s home from the hospital, and the doc says he’ll be back at the station by Easter.”
Richie must be his coworker, Wakowski. Carly tried to follow several conversations taking place at once. The father, Mr. Tedesco, was discussing “the shop” with one of Joe’s older brothers. And Joe’s sisters and sisters-in-law were talking to each other about their kids. One of them was in trouble at school.
“Don’t worry. You get used to the craziness.” The man to her right leaned in to speak sotto voce. He was one of the brothers-in-law.
Carly smiled and nodded. “How long did it take you?” She took a bite of salad.
“Me? Let’s see, Rosie and I have been married...coming up on thirteen years this July. I remember ’cause we’d just gotten married a couple of months before the towers fell, and that Christmas Elena cried when we told her we were pregnant and Joey told her he was quitting college.”
“Joey—Joe quit college?”
“Joey didn’t tell you?”
“No. What happened?”
“You haven’t heard this story yet?” The taller sister, Donna-Marie, called across the table. “Joey, you didn’t tell her?”
“Ma, why don’t you tell Carly how you and Pop met at Grandpop’s tailor shop? That’s such a good story.”
“Now, Joey, don’t try to change the subject. Carly, did you know Joey had a full scholarship to Notre Dame?”
Carly stopped eating midbite. She was aware her jaw had dropped open and shut it. “No.” She turned to Joe on her left. “You gave up a full scholarship to Notre Dame?” How could anyone do that? She’d had to scrape together every dime she could get her hands on just to get through each semester.
He shrugged.
“The moron had a full ride playing football,” his brother, Al, interjected. “Even had a recruiter from one of the top teams looking him over.”
Carly turned her shocked expression on Joe again. “You could’ve gone pro?”
Joe opened his mouth, shaking his head, but his mother cut in. “Now, Al. You know how 9/11 affected us all.” She shifted her gaze to Carly. “I admit I didn’t want him to quit when he first told me. But now.” She grasped his hand next to hers on the table and smiled at him. “I’m so proud.”
“So.” Carly was trying to process this new information. It changed everything she thought she knew about Joe. “You gave up a full scholarship to Notre Dame to become a firefighter?”
Joe frowned at his forkful of lasagna. “All those men and women running into the towers, saving people’s lives, sacrificing their own. Playing a game for a living seemed so trivial after watching that.” He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “I wanted my life to make a difference.”
Something brittle inside her cracked. She blinked back tears. She’d never heard anything so selfless in her life. And to think this man said he loved her? Why? Any hope of coming out of this affair unscathed just died. Whatever part of her that was capable of love surrendered.
This was so not good.
18
JOE SET HIS forkful of lasagna back on his plate. This wasn’t good.
In the past decade as a firefighter Joe had saved a few lives. Sometimes it was a cat, like last month. Sometimes human. It was the best part of his job.
The worst was becoming a he
adline when some reporter snapped his picture as he carried someone from a burning building. Thankfully, that had only happened once, several years ago. And, although his name had been mentioned, he’d still had his helmet on, so his face had been hidden.
Still, that look on someone’s face, the expression of awe at his so-called heroics always made him uncomfortable. He figured he was just doing the job he’d signed on for. He’d never wanted fame and fortune. Give him a quiet life and a meaningful career and he’d be happy.
But now Carly was gazing at him with that kind of wondrous admiration.
Carly worried, he could handle. Carly turned-on was a great look. Even annoyed wasn’t a bad thing. She wasn’t some meek and compliant clinging vine. That was part of her appeal. But this expression she held now, as if he was some hero who was too good for mere mortals, or maybe just too good for her? He hated it. He wanted her to love him for who he really was: just a guy who loved her and wanted a life with her.
But she didn’t say she loved you.
Shaking his head, he picked up his fork again. “It’s no big deal. So, how’s the business doing, Pop?”
His father frowned. “Not so good, Joey. Mr. Weitzman’s been working on our taxes. Al says it’s the recession, but I’m worried. We’ve never had such a bad year.”
“What kind of business do you have?” Carly directed the question to his pop at the other end of the table.
“Like my father before me, and his father before him, we are tailors. My grandfather, Giuseppe Tedesco, came to the United States from Lombardy, Italy. He taught his son, who taught me.” He clapped a strong hand on Al’s shoulder. “And so I teach Alfonso.”
Joe had heard the story a million times, and today the pride shining in his pop’s eyes was no different.
His brother, Al, nodded, his pride also evident. “And my oldest son, Roberto, is already proving to be very talented with a measuring tape.”
Pop’s face drooped. “But what if we have no shop to leave him? Every year we have fewer customers.”
“Things will pick up, amore mio.” Ma reassured him, but everyone at the table had fallen silent.
“Maybe you could run a special on your website to draw in new clients,” Carly suggested.
Everyone’s attention turned to her. Again.
“We don’t have a website,” Al said.
“You’re kidding? Everyone needs a website nowadays. How do people find you?”
“Tedesco’s Tailoring has been in our neighborhood for generations. Everyone knows where we are.” Pop’s chest puffed out.
She blinked, her face blushing light pink. “Of course. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”
“No, please. This is a great idea.” Al’s enthusiasm was clearly reflected in his voice. “Maybe a website could bring in more customers.”
Carly’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Well, I could set one up for you easy.”
Al glanced at their father. “Pop?”
Pop narrowed his eyes. Folded his arms over his chest. Say yes, Pop. Joe willed him to agree.
The old man stuck out his chin and gave an imperial nod. “Yes, we do this.”
Carly grinned and glanced at Joe as if to gain his approval. He lifted an arm across her shoulders and squeezed.
She scanned the table. “Does anyone have a laptop?”
Ralph scooted back his chair and stood. “Mine’s out in the car.” He headed out front and Carly started talking about domain names and web hosting.
Joe sat back to observe his family’s growing excitement and then stared at Carly. His love for her deepened into a profound sense of rightness.
Shoot. He’d probably end up having to thank his sisters for entering him into that contest.
* * *
“OKAY, SO WE mentioned fully lined suit jackets, and on the shirts you offer French cuffs, monograms and what else?”
“Collars, we do over ten collar styles,” Al answered, leaning over her shoulder as she typed on Ralph’s laptop.
“Now, about wedding gowns?” Al Sr. pointed a finger at the screen. “We’ll have a...a page for that?”
“Oh, yes. Let’s add that to our menu.” Carly began typing, but Elena bustled into the upstairs bedroom that had been converted into a study and placed a firm hand on her shoulder.
“Now, Alfonso, that’s enough for tonight. Carly is tired, and Al, your wife is ready to take the children home.”
Carly blinked up at her surroundings. It was dark outside and the house was quiet. What time was it? She checked the clock on the laptop. Eleven-thirty! “Oh, my gosh!” She jumped to her feet searching the tiny room. “Where’s Joe?”
“He’s fine. Watching basketball with Bernardo and Ralph downstairs.”
Rosie and Donna-Marie poked their heads in the doorway. “Good night, Pop,” Rosie said. “Carly, it was nice to meet you.” Donna-Marie waved then turned to yell down the hall. “Kids, we’re leaving, get your coats.”
Joe’s mother hugged Carly. “Thank you so much for all you’re doing for our family.” She kept an arm around Carly’s shoulder and guided her out of the bedroom, heading toward the stairs. “Now, I want to send some cake home with you. You’re too skinny.” She winked.
A medium-size kid came barreling out of another bedroom, almost crashing into his grandmother. “Georgie!”
“Sorry, Grandma!” He raced down the stairs.
Donna-Marie was stooping to pick up a smaller child who had fallen asleep in front of the TV. Another kid was still playing with a video game controller, his avatar leaping over a ledge.
Carly took in all the football trophies lining the top of a tall, scarred chest of drawers, and filling every flat surface from a bedside table to a small desk. Without thinking, she stepped inside.
“Roberto, turn it off now.” Donna-Marie held the one child against her shoulder while she used her free hand to drag the last child from the room. She turned back at the door. “Good night, Ma, good night, Carly.”
Joe’s mother hugged and kissed her daughter and grandkids, then stepped inside the small bedroom. “This was Joey’s room until he went off to college. After Bernardo married, Joey had it all to himself.”
There were posters of bands and a sexy blonde in a bikini hung on the walls. Carly soaked in all the information about Joe’s childhood preserved like a mini-time capsule.
Wooden bunk beds with matching navy blue plaid comforters. A baseball glove hanging over one of the bedposts. A mini-basketball hoop hooked over the closet door.
She spied a framed photo hidden among the trophies on the dresser of a young girl in a high school cheerleading outfit posing in the arms of a young Joe wearing a football uniform. His high school sweetheart? She picked it up, studying the blonde beauty with the turned-up nose and the self-assured smile.
“That’s Lydia.” Joe’s mother was staring at the photo, as well. “Joe was going to marry her.”
A wave of jealousy hit Carly square in the chest. Was that a wistful note she detected in the mother’s voice? The girl in the picture looked to be everything Carly wasn’t. Warm. Friendly. Loving. “What happened?”
“She dumped me.” Carly twisted at Joe’s deep voice. He was leaning in the doorway holding a plate with cake slices covered in clear plastic wrap. His expression was somewhere between amused and accusatory. So he’d caught her trying to pry information from his mother. Could he blame her?
“I’ll say good night, now.” Joe’s mother leaned in and wrapped her arms around Carly. After a few awkward seconds Carly finally relaxed and put one tentative arm around the older woman’s back.
Elena let go, stepped away and smiled. “It was so nice to meet you, Carly. Please come back again.” She hugged Joe next. “Good night, son.”
After Elena had left, Carly realized she still held the framed photo and set it back on the dresser. “The game is over?”
“Yep. Pop went to bed. Said to tell you good night and thank you again.” He set the pla
te on the desk and then gazed at her with that heat in his eyes again.
“It was fun, actually. I was happy to do it.”
“You can’t understand how much this might mean to my father. Other than his family, the shop is everything to him. To lose it after three generations would break him.”
She shook her head. “I can’t imagine knowing my family’s history back that far. I don’t even know my grandparents.”
“None of them?” Joe sounded incredulous.
Was that so unusual? She shrugged. “My mother’s mother was a single mom. Mother never knew her dad and my grandmother died before I was born. My father’s parents quit speaking to him after he married my mother. And once I was born, and they wanted to see me, my father wouldn’t let them. Said they didn’t deserve to know me.”
“Whoa. Talk about holding a grudge.”
“Yeah, in case you hadn’t already guessed, I come from a long line of dysfunctional characters. You should run away. Far away.” She tried to sound flippant, but the warning was dead serious.
“Too late.” He slipped his arms around her and kissed her, moving his mouth over hers in a sensual play of give-and-take. “I’m already hooked.” He held her to him, pulling her head to his chest.
Warmth spread inside her, reaching into dark, cold places she hadn’t even known existed. Was there any better place to be than in his arms? I love him. She was still getting used to the feeling. Definitely not something she was ready to say out loud. But he’d said it to her.
But what about what’s-her-name? She glanced at the photo of the happy couple. He must’ve loved her, too, if they’d planned on marrying. Maybe he was one of those guys that fell in love at the drop of a hat. Maybe the cheerleader had just dumped him recently and Carly was the rebound lover. The coldness returned like fog rolling in off the Hudson River.
“Tell me about her.”
“Who? Lydia?”
“No, the woman on the poster. Of course, Lydia.”
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