Page 17 of Holiday Hoax

“Whatever.” She waves a hand in the air. “The point is he’s single. You’re single. He’s in the city. You’re in the city. You’re both Catholic.”

Luckily for me, a stampede of little feet come running into the house. “Nonno! Nonna!” My nieces and nephews yell with delight as they launch their little bodies at my parents. My chest warms with affection as they shower my parents with love.

“Mia!” They yell in unison as they notice me. I’m overrun by the four of them, knocked to the floor as they dogpile me.

“Not in my kitchen,” Mom yells, nudging me with her foot.

“Get off me you little heathens.” I tickle all but the littlest one. “Except you, I’m keeping you.” He giggles as I pretend to chomp on his shoulder while I stand up holding him.

“Go wash up for dinner, I just started the pasta,” Mom calls over her shoulder.

I sit down at the table next to my sister while Joey snuggles in my lap and twirls a lock of my hair around his finger. “How are you doing?”

“Working my ass off,” she says with a tired smile. “You?”

“Same, minus keeping four tiny humans alive.”

“Don’t forget the full-grown man-child I have, he’s the neediest of them all.”

“Who’s needy?” Paul asks as he walks into the kitchen.

“Look in a mirror.” Maria smiles at her husband lovingly.

He gasps and grabs Joey from my lap. “Did you hear that, Joe? Mama thinks I’m needy.”

“Marie, do you remember the boy Bradley from Nico’s confirmation class?” Mom asks.

“No.” She cuts her gaze my way questioningly.

“I’m trying to fix your sister up with him.”

“I think you should let the girl live a little,” Dad says as he walks into the kitchen. “She doesn’t need to worry about getting married when she’s only twenty-six.”

“I can’t go on a date with him anyway. I’m too busy.”

“Busy with what?” Mom turns from the stove.

“Work. Friends.”

She mumbles something in Italian under her breath which makes Dad chuckle.

“Has anyone heard from Nico?” Maria asks, changing the subject to Mom’s favorite child.

“He and Stella will be back at the beginning of November.” Nico and I are the closest, even though there are six years between us instead of three like my older siblings. They always tease me about being an oopsie baby.

It used to bother me, but I’ve grown into my place as the caretaker of my parents. Maria and Paul live an hour away, and Nico’s always traveling. Alessia, my other older sister, lives in Florida with her husband and their two kids. They just bought a house with a guest house, so Mom and Dad are planning on spending most of December with them. It’ll be weird for me to be alone for the holidays, but I’ll survive.

The rest of dinner is spent catching up on all the activities the kids have coming up. Luckily for me that means Mom backs off on trying to set me up with Bradley the marketing guy. I didn’t want to say that I was seeing someone because I’m technically not, but my parents wouldn’t understand that. Mom and Dad definitely wouldn’t approve of it being Ian, not because they have anything against him, they just don’t like his parents.

I do wonder how both Ian and Stella grew up to be such good people when their parents, mostly their mom, are so terrible. Granted they both went to boarding schools and, from what I understand, had several nannies before then. Maybe that helped.

Their background couldn’t have been more different from ours. Living in a three-bedroom ranch as a family of six was hard. Sometimes money would be so tight we’d have cacio e pepe multiple times a week. It never mattered though, because, at the end of the day, we always had clean clothes, full bellies, and so much love.

At the end of the day, I squeeze into the center of the third row in my sister’s minivan for the drive to the train station. That way I can skip taking the bus there from my parent’s house. I give all the kids kisses and hug my sister and brother-in-law, waving as they pull out of the parking lot. The station is nearly empty, most people aren’t going into the city from the suburbs on a Sunday night. I use the time to plan out my week, opening the calendar app on my phone.

Tomorrow night with Ian should be interesting. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious to see his home. If it truly is a blank slate, I could have some real fun decorating it. Not to mention the way spending time with him is just effortless fun. I never would have thought we’d get along as well as we do.

It’s not surprising that Ian lives in one of the most exclusive buildings in Chicago, but even knowing that, I wasn’t expecting him to tell me he had a private entrance and elevator to his penthouse. Talk about swanky. With the push of a button, I’m being lifted to the sixth floor.

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