Page 41 of Sweet Deception

Overall, it's been a good visit. I splurged on Thai for dinner from my dad's favorite restaurant. Now we are all sitting out on the porch, eating homemade ice cream.

"This is so good. I don't think I can ever go back to store-bought ice cream again." I'm contemplating getting a second helping as I scrape the last of the creamy goodness out of my bowl. It's only vanilla, but has so much flavor, it doesn't need anytoppings.

"That's been the one good thing about my diagnosis. Finding alternative healthy recipes for our meals showed how much we've missed out on by buying store-bought food," Dad says.

"Yeah, I'll never go back to the jarred spaghetti sauce. The recipe I got from Carlina's grandmother puts those to shame. I love that we can pull the vegetables from our own garden now, too." My mom is the only one savoring her ice cream. Dad has already started on his second bowlful.

"Is Carlina the teacher in the classroom across from you?" I remember meeting her a couple of years ago.

"Yes. Her grandmother still lives in Italy and is one heck of a cook. Carlina brought us food a few times that were made from her grandmother's recipes. She's been teaching me how to make pasta and I think I almost have it down."

I gasp. "And where was I when she brought this delicious food?" I pretend to be outraged when my mom looks guiltily at me.

"I'm sorry, honey. She knew you made dinner most nights, so she offered to bring food on the nights when you were busy with schoolwork. We didn't mean to not include you—she only wanted to help when you couldn't."

Dad chuckles at my fake glare.

"I guess it's okay then." I point my spoon at her. "But you better tell me when she drops off food again."

"I will. Or maybe you can be the first to try my noodle making skills," she offers.

"Deal." I smile, but get distracted when my phone pings with a notification. I pull the phone from my back pocket to find a text from Luca.

We're wrapping up business. Can you be ready in an hour?

Yes. I'm finishing at my parents' now. I'll head home in a few minutes.

All right, Angel. I'll pick you up soon.

And pack a bag. You'll be staying with me until tomorrow.

After reading the last text, my stomach flip flops. I'm excited and nervous all at once.

I send him a thumbs up emoji just as my mom nudges me.

"Ooh, must be the boyfriend?" She tilts her head. "You look smitten."

"What? No. I mean, yes, it's him, but no, I'm not smitten." Caught off guard by my own reaction, I clamp my mouth shut before I can say anything more.

Mom's eyes widen as she studies my face. "You're not smitten? I thought that's the point of dating, sweetheart."

"It's only been a few weeks. I'm … I mean … I like him. A lot." I frown into my empty bowl, confused about how to handle this. It's too soon to be smitten. Smitten seems more serious than liking.

My dad comes to the rescue. "Leave the girl alone, honey. She doesn't need to rush into anything."

"I'm not rushing her. She should be smitten with the guy, or why else date him?" She glares at him before turning back to me. "I'll leave it be, but your reaction is all the reassurance I need."

"Uh, huh. Well, I gotta go. I've got time to help with the dishes before an Uber comes." I head to the sliding doors as my parents grab their ice cream bowls and follow me into the kitchen.

"No need for an Uber—we'll take you home." My dad insists as my mom takes my bowl out of my hands.

"And you're not doing the dishes. You need to go home so you have time to get ready for your date." Mom winks at me over her shoulder as she passes.

I shake my head, exasperated.

***

It took some cajoling to keep my mom from coming up to my apartment. She wanted to help pick out my outfit for tonight, and I almost had a heart attack. Iwouldn't have been able to explain where my new clothing came from. Luckily, I convinced her I was in a time crunch and promised to let her help the next time. I rushed them off so I'd have time to take a quick shower before Luca picked me up.

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