I don’t remember eating this much in my life. Not even a Thanksgiving as a teen. We were always in the middle of football season, and I couldn’t afford to put on any weight. And considering I’m headed back to Kansas City on Monday, eating this much was a mistake.
Our mom clutches her chest. “That’s so amazing.” She grasps my dad’s forearm as tears well in his eyes. “Isn’t that amazing?”
“Yes, it is.” He swallows hard, making his throat bob.
“I’m thinking about opening a restaurant here in Evergreen Lake.” Marco shifts in his seat as everyone stares at him. “Gabriel and I used to talk about it when we were kids.” He studies me and arches an eyebrow. “You’re welcome to join me.”
“We talked about this when we were in high school.” I stare at him in shock. “I have a career back in KC. I can’t open a restaurant with you here.”
“You could if you retired.” Marco lays his hand on the table. “You’re one injury away from a knee replacement at 32 years old. You need to give it up before you’re permanently in pain.”
It’s a little late for that. My knee hurts when the wind blows. But giving it up? To run a restaurant in the middle of nowhere?
“Yes, you should retire, move here, and raise Gino.” My mom picks up her water glass as Norah’s parents hang on to our every word. “This is the perfect place.”
My hands ball into fists as Norah stiffens beside me. “Maybe we should talk about this–”
“I don’t want you to regret spending too much time working and on the road. You’ve already lost so much time with Gino.”
Seriously? They’re going to gang up on me? And in front of Norah and her parents? This is going too far. I love my brother and my parents. I love their concern about my health and Gino’s wellbeing.
But this? I hate being pushed into a corner and forced to do what everyone else thinks is the right thing. That’s how I ended up in a loveless marriage to a selfish woman. I did what society expected me to do. Not that I wanted to do.
“I appreciate the offer and your concern,” I say firmly as I push the chair back. This time, I’m not going to let them interrupt. “But I’m on my way back to KC on Monday with the team and should be back on the field within a week or two.”
My brother’s eyes flash with anger. “That’s a mistake. It’s too soon, and you know it.”
“It’s my mistake to make.’’ I stand and step out from behind the chair. “My knee is fine. My relationship with Gino is better than ever. And I don’t intend to quit football and start some business we dreamed of when we were teenagers, playing video games and eating Cheerios out of popcorn bowls. We were stupid kids.”
Marco stands and tosses his napkin on the table. “And you’re stubborn and hardheaded. You’ve shown me your medical reports, and you know I’m not lying. It’s time to consider a different future before your hardhead lands you with a permanent limp and the inability to get down on the floor and play with your kids.”
“You don’t know everything.”
“I know about this. My body hurts every day. That’s why I quit before it was too late. I wanted to enjoy a family.” Mybrother spins on his heel and marches toward the kitchen. And this is why we don’t have large family gatherings with outsiders. Italians have big emotions, fiery tempers, and explode at will.
“Boys!” My dad’s voice is a loud boom that makes everyone jump. “That’s enough.”
“I’m not done.” I look pointedly at my brother’s back as everyone shifts uncomfortably at the table. “Marco, you’re an ass.” He rotates his neck from side to side and turns back around to face me. “Just because the game got to be too much for your body doesn’t mean I’m experiencing the same thing. I’m fine. As a matter of fact, I plan to go for another three-year contract after this year. I guess I’ve got more in the tank than you.”
He points at me. “Listen here, big brother, I can still get you down and whoop your ass.”
“Boy, stop!” My mom also stands and slaps her hands on her hips. “You’re acting like preschoolers. Do I need to grab you both by your ears and drag you to different rooms?”
“No, Ma’am.” We both say in unison as the anger eases from my body, leaving me feeling weak.
Eden pulls Norah’s parents into another room under the guise of a tour. Even though it’s clear they’ve seen the house before. It’s clearly to save them from seeing us come to blows.
“Now, apologize.” Our mother taps the toe of her shoe on the floor as Norah scoots her chair back slowly as if she hopes no one notices her. Maybe no one else does, but the frantic beat of her heart jumping at the base of her neck and the shaking of her hand has my stomach doubled over in knots.
“Norah.” I grab her shoulder. “I apologize that Marco, and I had a disagreement in front of you and your family. It was uncalled for. I let him push my buttons and snapped.” I attempt to smile, but it falls flat. “As Italians, we love and fight big.”
“We need to go.” She turns on her heel and marches to the living room, snatching up her coat and purse.
I catch her in two steps, grabbing her arm and turning her to face me. “Norah, I’m sorry. I truly am. We yell, but we love each other. In a few minutes, we’ll start laughing and hugging like it never happened. We’re passionate people. I love Marco, and he loves me. I know he wants what’s best for me, but I’m not done yet.”
“Yes.” She swallows hard and shifts backward. “I think we all got that.” Her eyes are shuttered from me as she shakes her head and marches to the front door. “Tell my parents I’m waiting in the car when they get down with the tour.”
The door snaps shut, and I cringe. Yeah. That was a big fucking mess. Heat crawls up my chest, creeping up my neck, and settles on my cheeks. If I wanted to add to my already craptastic horrible first impression, I just managed to slather frosting on top of the cake.