Page 59 of Mafia Christmas Vows

I’m not sure why, but the second I see her, I burst into tears.

The propensity is clearly genetic, because she does the same. We collide, crashing into each other, and we slide to the floor, sobbing.

Behind her, I hear Alexei mutter something to my father in Russian. I really should learn the language, but I wouldn’t be able to figure it out now even if I tried.

My mother is here.

In my arms. In the foyer of Orlov House.

And I’ve never been happier.

Eventually, we manage to pull ourselves together. I wipe my eyes and look at them. “What the heck? How are you here?”

My mother and… father (again, it’s kind of weird to describe him as that, but he technically did contribute the genetic material that makes him my biological father) exchange a look.

A very intimate, somewhat telling look.

“How about you and I go talk for a second, baby?” my mom says with a smile.

I glance at Alexei, but he’s looking away from me.

My heart sinks.

“Okay, um. Thanks, mom. And uh…dad,” I say.

I can’t believe that I said it.

I don’t think he can either. His eyes go wide, and he looks at my mom like he’s asking for permission.

Her little nod gives me a lot of questions.

“Come on, mom. Let me show you around,” I whisper.

I grab my mom’s hand. We walk down the hall.

It’s time to figure out what’s going on.

“Okay so. Spill.”

We manage to make it to the kitchen, but beyond that, nothing yet. I hand my mom a cookie, and she bites into it.

“Oh honey. These are way better than mine!”

“So not the point, mom.”

My mom sighs. “Okay. Well. Where do you want to start?”

“What are you doing here?”

She waves a hand. “Oh, that’s easy. Your husband contacted your father and asked for us to come for Christmas.”

“And you… just… you said yes?”

“Well of course. Why wouldn’t we?”

I pause.

My mom stares at me for a minute longer, then understanding dawns. “Oh. That’s what you’re worried about.”

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