Page 53 of Passed Ball

It requires some effort, but I push him to the back corner of my brain and refocus on the work I need to do for the rest of the afternoon.

Another visitor shows up at my door hours later when the tingles have sadly disappeared from my body.

"Always the overachiever. You're the last one here," Tenley's teases from the door to my office.

"If that's true how'd you get in here?" Clay, the intern who works the front desk, would never leave without locking up.

"Good timing. I came in as he was leaving. Clay locked up on his way out. Could you step away from the email and grab dinner with me."

"Nonna's?" I ask, already knowing her answer.

"Hell yes. I feel like I've hardly seen you the last few weeks."

The guilt that causes is fast and furious. "We do need to catch up and . . ."

"Pasta is love served family-style." We both recite the saying that Nonna, my mom's mother, had cross-stitched on the front of her favorite frilly apron. Pasta was as much a religion in our family as wine was growing up. Each house dotting the vineyard hillside had the same quote, hand-stitched by Nonna, hanging somewhere in their kitchen.

My dad's grandparents immigrated from Portugal and started Serra Brilhante Winery. It's where he was raised, and us after. Generations of Cardoza's have worked the land, including my brother, Tenley's dad.

After my parents met and fell in love, they had an army of kids. My dad's Portuguese heritage blended with my mom's close-knit Sicilian family. Now, decades later, there's no life event, good or bad, big or small, that doesn't call for both wine, pasta, and a whole lot of fussing from both grandmothers.

There was never a shortage of love, food, or noise in our house. There was also an excessive amount of work to go around. We all had roles to fulfill that helped keep the vineyard running, like it or not.

"Dinner sounds perfect." My time with Tenley is slipping away. Before I know it, she'll graduate and move out. I press my laptop closed and I slip it into the bag at my feet.

The corner of her mouth tips up in a knowing smile. "Buns & Roses? Tell me you had an actual lunch and not just a sticky bun."

"There was lunch." And an orgasm. My attention drops to the garbage where the mostly-eaten sandwich resides inside the discarded brown paper bag. Not a crumb of brownie is left.

"Xavier was raving about their red velvet brownie earlier. Said it was so good the taste was going to stick with him for days. What a crazy coincidence."

My gaze shoots back to her. I almost choke on the gulp of air I suck in. She's smiling at me in a way that makes me nervous, like she knows.

Is it bad if I wait to tell her untilaftera glass of wine?

"Crazy indeed." But not for the reason she thinks. "Come on, let's go and we can catch up over dinner."

The first time we ate here after Tenley moved in with me was because of the nostalgia the name evoked in us. My niece was a little homesick and pasta was the perfect cure. We've kept coming back because no one in Denver does Sicilian better, and being here feels like the best part of home.

Every detail, down to the stone walls and bright-patterned plates, remind me of family dinners my nonna used to host weekly in the vineyard's tasting room. It was the one time each week where everything stopped and we all came together. No shop talk, just lots of family. It was the one place I could be me without the expectations that came with being the eldest daughter and caretaker for my gaggle of cousins.

"How were your nursing classes last semester?" the hostess, Carmine, who knows us by name, asks Tenley as she leads us back to our table. Green vines climb the wall next to our favorite table. It's set back in a corner where we can laugh without worrying about disturbing other diners. Our own little family dinners--the two of us.

"Would you like to see the wine list?" Carmine's lips quirk up in a smirk. She knows damn well I don't need a list.

"My father would disown me if I had to peruse the list. If you wanted to adopt me into your family permanently all you had to do was ask."

Tenley snickers across the table. She knows damn well Dad would never.

"You know, I do have a brother." Carmine laughs warmly.

"And you know I don't date." Although I'm not sure that claim holds anymore.

Our favorite hostess shakes her head. "Rosalia will be over to take your drink order shortly."

As Carmine said, her sister stops by within minutes, taking our orders and happily chatting for a minute before she has to rush off to help other tables. Now it's just Tenley and I, plus the elephant in the room--if an elephant were shaped like a hot-as-hell catcher, who makes my body come alive and happens to be my niece's employer.

I swallow dryly, reaching for my wine to wash the nerves down, when my niece saves me from myself. "Vi, I know you didn't leave your desk to get lunch. So, who came through with the Buns & Roses delivery today?"

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