by Megan Bryce
Nonnie looked down at her colorless nails.
“That is the thing with age. You finally understand why. Why they do this, why it’s like that. I don’t wish it on you Loretta, but someday you will understand about starting again, too.”
Megan BryceThe Tie’s The Limit
Twenty-One
Mac realized lasagna dinner might mean something different from what he was expecting when he couldn’t find a place to park and ended up driving around the block.
Gia was waiting for him the second time he drove by her house and he stopped to roll down his window.
“These cars aren’t all for you, right?”
“Wrong. People kept inviting people,” she said, leaning down. “I told you everyone likes lasagna.”
Mac looked at all the cars, and imagined all the people who must have driven them here, and said, “Maybe tonight’s not a good night. Here, just take the wine and—”
“But my brothers want to see your hot rod,” she said, taking the bottle carefully.
“It’s not a hot rod. And what do you mean brothers. As in plural?”
“Brothers, as in all of them. A couple of nephews, one uncle and even one of my aunts. My father.”
“Gia…”
She grinned down at him.
“Feeling a little lightheaded there?”
She held the wine bottle up, reading the label, and then her eyes widened and her face flushed bright red.
He said quickly, “I thought it went well with the pizza so it probably would go well with lasagna.”
She muttered, “Luckily, there’s more than just us to drink it tonight.”
“Luckily? I thought it was just going to be your parents and grandmother. I am not prepared for all the Abellis.”
“You can’t be prepared for all the Abellis. But it’s actually better with all of them together. Lots of distractions to keep their attention from you.”
Mac was not convinced.
It was probably written all over his face because Gia lifted her nose and sniffed.
“Can you smell that? Italian lasagna made with love by an Italian grandmother. You can’t even imagine how good it tastes.”
She waved one hand at him, like she was trying to waft the aroma in his direction, and he could smell it.
Tomato sauce, sausage, and cheese, with a hint of singed Gia.
It did smell good.
Mac said, “I thought you were supposed to be making it.”
“It turned into assisting because my nonna invited a date and wasn’t willing to risk a disaster.”
“Can you disaster a lasagna?”
“Probably. Plus, she wanted to make the effort for her date. For Jerry.”
Mac watched a car drive around them slowly and Gia gave them a friendly wave.
He said, “Do you not like him?”
“He’s fine. He’s not-Italian. He kissed Nonnie on the lips in front of my father, which… I mean, it was a quick peck but everyone is still trying to process it.”
“So no kissing, and try to be Italian, and I’ll be fine?”
Gia snorted, then flushed red again.
“Compliment the food, show my father your car, and you’ll be fine. I’ll move the Escalade and you can park right here.”
She reached into her pocket, pulling out her keys and jingling them at him.
Mac blew out a breath and said, “I guess I’m already here?”
“It’s lasagna.”
It was lasagna, when Gia had specifically invited him, and he guessed it didn’t really matter if the whole family had been invited as well.
He waited for her to move the Escalade and then angled into the open spot.
And by the time Gia made it back from wherever she’d managed to park, he was surrounded by male Abellis and going over every detail of the Camaro’s restoration.
She stood off to the side, smiling at him and listening in but not asking any questions herself. And when her father and brothers and nephews and uncle and aunt had all seen their fill, they filed into the house, leaving the two of them alone.
She said, “You made it through my brothers. I’m impressed.”
“I think it was the car.”
“It’s a great ice breaker. If only people could know by looking at you that you love cars…”
She sucked in a breath, staring at him, hugging the wine bottle.
“Oh, there’s something there. I don’t quite know…yet.”
“Maybe it’ll hit you while we’re eating.” He nodded at the wine. “Or drinking.”
She looked between him and his car, again and again. Then turned toward the house.
She said over her shoulder, “I do get most of my good ideas while I’m three sheets to the wind.”
He couldn’t help his laugh.
“I know. I was there for the paint sample rainbow.”
He was introduced to all of the wives, the children. The other aunts, and he thought maybe a next-door neighbor or two.
He stayed beside Gia. Not touching, just close.
And when he heard her grandmother pushing her way through the crowd, he made his move.
“Macintosh! You came to dinner! Where is your sister?”
Mac stepped behind Gia, cupping her shoulders in what he hoped was a friendly-looking, but not too-friendly-looking, way. She started to twist around, saying, “What are you—,” but Mac pushed her back around.
He’d had all day to prepare for this moment and he wasn’t letting the nonna near him again without Gia between them.
He said, “I hadn’t realized my sister was invited, but I did bring wine.”
He gave Gia a little shake until she realized that was her cue, and Mac let out a small sigh when the older woman’s hands were full.
But even with the wine, Mac was taking no chances and he stayed right where he was.
Silvana nodded appreciatively at the bottle and shouted behind her, “Jerry! Jerry! Come meet Macintosh!”
An older gentleman wearing white pants came to shake hands and Silvana said, “This is Jerry Silverman, my date for the evening. And this is Macintosh… I don’t remember your last name.”
Gia’s shoulders shook with laughter, but he said, “Sullivan. And it’s just Mac.”
Jerry smiled widely.
“How do you do, how do you do. Silvana, let me help you with that,” he said, taking the bottle from her. “Shall we go open it?”
Gia watched them make their way to the kitchen before saying, “I hadn’t realized, but I think he’s been hiding in the kitchen.”
“I don’t blame him.”
“Why would you, when you’re hiding behind me.”
Gia’s father passed them, lifting an eyebrow at Mac’s hands, still right there on Gia’s shoulders, but Gia said, “Nonnie hugged him last time.”
Mac muttered, “That wasn’t a hug. That was a near suffocation.”
Gia reached behind her back and pinched his side, but that explanation appeased her father.
Gia leaned back, looking up at him.
“It was really brave of you to come back here, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was.”
She grinned.
“Don’t worry. It’ll totally be worth it.”
The lasagna was totally worth it.
As long as he didn’t get hugged again.
Gia sat next to him, chatting away and keeping his plate filled.
The conversation never stopped, or quieted, and the adults were just as loud and boisterous as the children.
Mac smiled at Gia when he realized that she’d obviously been raised in chaos. She thrived in it. Got bored without it.
No wonder his white, empty condo unsettled her.
But the food was delicious, the wine flowed freely, and Mac grew more comfortable the more he ate.
As well as more comfortable after Gia steered talk to cars, making him list all the cars he’d ever owned and restored, to her brothers’ delight.
Mac could always talk cars.
Dessert was eaten, the leftovers packed up and passed out, and Gia’s mother said as she filled Mac’s hands, “For your fridge. You’re welcome to dinner next Sunday, Macintosh.”
Gia steered him out the door before her grandmother could get too close and he said gratefully, “Thank you. For inviting me, too.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you came.”
“Even if I made you give up your parking spot?”
“Even then.”
“Where did you park the Escalade?”
“A couple streets over. I found a nice empty stretch of curb and parked it real nice. I’ll go get it later.”
He shook his head. “I’ll drive you.”
Gia looked at his Camaro with a gleam in her eye.
“What if I drive you?”
“Nope.” Mac said, unlocking the passenger door and holding it open for her. “There is no chance of that happening, not with all these cars around.”
She got in with a flounce, taking the Tupperware from him and holding it in her lap.
“I could blackmail you with this, you know? I just want you to be aware of that.”
“You could, but you won’t,” he said. “I just want you to know I’m aware of that.”
Gia’s mouth fell open and he shut her door with a chuckle.
When he slid in the driver’s side, she said, “You don’t know me.”
He looked at her. “Yes, I do.”
“What do you think you know?”
“I know you wouldn’t actually deprive me of lasagna to make me do something I didn’t want to.”
“Yes, I would.”
“Nope. You would try to coerce me, maybe call in some reinforcements to get me to do it, and then when I told you I really didn’t want to, you’d give me back the lasagna. And then invite yourself over on Sunday to bring whatever was being made that night, too.”
Well.
That might have been what she’d been thinking of doing. He might have filled his refrigerator but she was far from sure that he knew how to feed himself well.
And by well, she meant Italian well.
He put the keys in the ignition but waited to turn it on. Waited to feel the car spring to life beneath him. And said, “And you didn’t really want to maneuver my Camaro out of this driveway because you hate driving.”
She humphed, crossing her arms.
“I do hate driving when there are lots of cars around. And parking. I do like driving fast, with nothing around me to slow me down.”
“I’ll find you another parking lot.”
“You’re going to let me drive again,” she asked with raised eyebrows. “Okay. You can have the lasagna.”
He grinned. “Told you.”
The front door opened and Gia said, “I can’t believe them, checking on us like I’m not an adult. Like I’m not twenty-seven and sitting out here with my client.”
She glanced at him. “Not that I’m not enjoying it.”
He nodded at the door.
“I don’t think they’re checking on you.”
And there was Nonnie leading her date out by the hand.
Gia and Mac watched them in silence until the older couple suddenly stopped halfway down the sidewalk.
Nonnie turned, and Jerry’s other hand decided to wander on down to rest itself on an ample hip, and Gia’s eyes widened.
“What are they doing?”
“I think they might be… Yep, they’re definitely going to—”
“No, no, no.” Gia slunk down in her seat and covered her eyes. “I fully support my grandmother going on dates and doing other things. But I can’t see this. I can’t unsee this.”
She heard Mac fiddling with his seat and when she opened her eyes again, his seat was back, laying nearly flat, his head turned toward her.
Gia quickly following his example and when she was comfortably unable to see any wandering hands, murmured, “I’m starting to wonder what she does down at that senior center. And what exactly she meant when she said she was the life of the party.”
Mac huffed a little, trying not to laugh.
“Maybe someone will come outside to check on them.”
“Oh, god. What if they don’t? What if they’re out here all night?”
“That seems unlikely. All those people inside will have to leave eventually.”
Gia let out a little breath.
“You’re right. And I guess we could always sacrifice the lasagna.”
“My leftovers? You’re willing to sacrifice my leftovers?”
“The leftovers my mother gave you, along with an invitation to next week’s dinner.”
He sucked at his cheek.
“I would probably share them with you. In an emergency.”
“I’ll let everyone know you really liked dinner,” she said, grinning, and watched as his shoulders relaxed back into the seat.
“You should come next Sunday, though. It won’t be lasagna but I can promise it’ll be just as good.”
“I don’t think so,” he said without pause.
“Oh.”
“I can’t keep coming to dinner when everyone calls me Macintosh.”
He surprised a laugh out of her, and Gia covered her mouth quickly, glancing up and out the window.
After a long moment of nothing happening, she relaxed enough to whisper to Mac, “It really stuck, didn’t it?”
He whispered back, “To be fair, you did tell them it was my name.”
She laughed again, quietly, leaning over to nudge him with her shoulder.
“I’ll let them know it’s Just Mac. Not Macintosh, not Mac Daddy, not Big Mac.” She smiled at him. “Just Mac.”
“Thank you.”
“So, you going to come?”
“Will it be like today?”
“You mean crowded? Busy? Crazy?” Gia shrugged. “Probably. But this is most of us so it’s not going to get much worse.”
Mac looked at the container, still on her lap.
“It was really good lasagna.”
“Yep. Really good. I’m getting hungry again just thinking about it.”
He said, “If I tell you I’d love to come to dinner next week will you stop trying to eat my leftovers?”
“Depends how long we’re in here with it sitting in my lap.”
He looked like he was wondering how close she was to just diving right in—and she was pretty close—and he said, “Maybe they’re done. Why don’t you take a look?”
“You want to see your grandma get a good night kiss? ‘Cause I sure don’t.”
“I don’t hear anything. I think they’re done.”
“Ew. You think we’d be able to hear them?” She nudged him again. “You look.”
He shook his head and folded his arms, and a few more minutes passed by while they sat there smelling oregano, thyme, and garlic.
“Mmm. Sure smells good,” Gia said, and Mac sat up a little.
“Fine. I’ll look.”
He edged up slowly until he could see out the windshield and he squinted.
He looked at Gia, back out the window, and then slid down the seat.
“So,” Gia said, “Are they still out there?”
“Yep.”
“And…”
“You don’t want to see it.”
“No!”
Mac lunged at her, placing his hand over her mouth.
“Shh,” he laughed, his hot breath blowing into her ear and she lowered her voice.
“What are they doing,” she mumbled.
“What people do at the end of a date, Gia.”
“But…but…but…they’re eighty,” Gia cried, knowing she sounded exactly like her mother.
Oh god, her mother would be having a heart attack right about now.
“They’ll hear you,” Mac snickered into her ear and Gia shivered, suddenly glad he wasn’t overwhelmed by her family like he had been with her room.
She’d almost ex
pected him to hate them, and dinner, and instead he was laughing about it.
She turned her face to him, his hand sliding lightly off her mouth, and said, “Thank you for not fainting over my family.”
His eyes still twinkled from his laughter, his hand cupped her cheek, and he whispered, “They are very colorful but I came in expecting something. Being around you is always an adventure.”
She didn’t know if he meant that as a compliment but she couldn’t hate it.
And he wasn’t looking like he was hating her too much right then, either.
Gia was just starting to think about doing what people did at the end of a date when the sound an engine starting made her jump in her seat.
Gia sucked in a breath.
“He’s leaving!”
They listened for the car to leave, Mac moving back to his side of the car and Gia fiddling with the lasagna container.
Mac finally said, “So…can we get up now?”
“I didn’t hear the front door close. Why don’t you look.”
He shot her a look and said, “Be brave.”
Gia made a face at him, then slowly lifted her head, scanning the front yard.
“I don’t see anyone.”
Mac lifted his seat, Gia followed, and he turned the key, the rumble traveling up her legs and to her rump.
“Oh, yeaahhh,” she said. “Do you ever get used to that?”
Mac shook his head, clearing his throat.
“No. It’s a religious experience, every time.”
Gia laughed.
“I bet. You don’t have to drive me, you know.”
“I’ll drive you. It’s starting to get dark.”
Gia eyed the sky.
“The sun just barely set.”
“You moved the Escalade for me. I’ll drive you.”
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go left.”
Megan BryceThe Tie’s The Limit
Twenty-Two
They drove around and around, turning left and turning right, and Mac wondered if she really didn’t remember where she’d parked or was just prolonging the drive because…she liked riding with him?
It was probably the Camaro. She liked riding in the Camaro.
They rolled down the windows, the air cooling slightly as darkness settled, and Mac grinned at her when they passed the same community park for the third time.