Page 16 of Haunted

I put Goodie’s cage down on the coffee table then go to the kitchen and throw the ice cream in the freezer. “You got time to watch her while I grab a quick shower?”

“Sure, honey. You go right ahead. Aria can show me her latest drawing.”

I leave the two at the small kitchen table, Aria jabbering away about some new friend she made at school, and walk down the short hallway to my bedroom.

Ten minutes later, I’m back in the living room just in time to see Mom setting a bowl of noodles and sauce on the table in front of Aria. She kisses the top of her head, then turns and grabs another plate piled high with spaghetti from the counter, setting it down on the table along with a plate of garlic bread.

“Mom, you didn’t have to make me a plate. I’m thirty-two. I think I can manage.”

She scoffs, as if I’ve lost my mind.

“You’ve worked all day, Luca. If I’m here after you’ve worked all day and there’s food, you best bet I’ll be making your plate. Now, sit. I’ve got to get running or your dad will come hunt me down.”

Now I give her a look that saysshe’slost her mind.

“I’ll walk you out. Then I’ll come eat.”

Knowing it’s pointless to argue, because there’s no way I’m letting my mom walk to her car by herself after dark in this neighborhood, she bends to place another kiss to the top of Aria’s head.

“You tell your dad to bring you by this weekend, okay, Aria?”

After slurping a noodle into her mouth, Aria nods. “Okay, Gamma. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetie.”

She grabs her purse off the couch and leads the way to her car. I pull open Mom’s door and she throws her purse to the passenger seat before turning back to me.

“Are you closing down the shop on Thanksgiving?” she asks.

“Would you let me keep it open?”

Her eyes sparkle as she laughs. “As long as you don’t mind the shop being invaded with food and family, then sure, you can keep it open.”

I prop my hand on the top of her car. “Then why even ask?”

“Because I know how much the place means to you, so you should have that option.”

I grunt. Not much of a choice. I have no doubt Mom would transfer all the food into Tupperware containers, lug it all down to the shop, and demand that’s where we’re all eating. Which would defeat the purpose of keeping the doors open. I wouldn’t get shit done.

I lean down and kiss her cheek, then step back from the car. “You already know my answer, Mom. Be safe driving home and have fun on your date.”

She gives me a cheeky grin. “Just making sure.”

I wait until she’s pulling away from the house before going back inside. Aria’s already halfway done with her food, half of which seems to be on her face, by the time I take my own seat.

“Good?” I inquire, picking up my fork.

“The best!” she answers around a mouthful.

I chuckle and dig in. My cooking isn’t bad, but mom’s is the shit. She’s had plenty of years to perfect it. Her own mother was big on food, and she passed that down to her daughter.

Once we’re finished, I load the dishwasher while Aria takes a bath. Hearing her giggles through the partially open door as she plays with her Barbies brings a smile to my face. I always enjoy the time I get to spend with her. I used to want kids when I was younger, but the older I get, the more I realize I don’t want to bring a child into the world I live in. Too much bad shit happens on a daily basis.

“You about done in there?” I yell after the dishes are finished.

“Yes!”

I grab Aria’s ice cream, a spoon, and put both down on the coffee table. Aria comes out minutes later in her long pink nightgown, hair dripping and soaking the material. I put our movie for the night into the DVD player, then take a seat. She hands me the towel and brush before turning and jumping on my lap. It’s always the same when she spends the night. She bathes, then I take care of her hair.

---