Page 19 of The Singing Trees
“Wait a minute,” Thomas said, commanding the circle of Mancusos in the living room. “So you’re Tony, and you’re Tony, and then there’s another Tony?”
“Don’t forget both Rosemarys over there,” her bald uncle Fredo called out, pointing to both Annalisa’s aunt Rosemary and her cousin Rosemary.
“Well, this makes it easy,” Thomas said. “I’ll just call everyone Tony and Rosemary, and the odds will be in my favor.”
Fredo smacked his hands together. “Bada bing!”
Everyone broke into laughter.
The Mancusos did not understand the concept of personal space. They swallowed Thomas, kissing him on the cheek, shaking his hand,showering him with questions tickled with an Italian lilt.How do you know Annalisa? Why hasn’t she told us about you? Where are you from? Where did you two meet? How many brothers and sisters do you have?They wouldn’t let him answer before hitting him with more.What year is your Volkswagen? What does your father do? Are you Catholic?
She wanted to scream.
When he finally worked his way through the family, shaking hands and kissing cheeks, he found Annalisa. “According to Aunt Julia, it’s a kiss on each cheek. I don’t want to be rude.” Without hesitation, he leaned in, vanquishing her hangover as his lips touched her cheeks.
A flush of warmth rushed over her. Pulling away, she noticed her family watching them, and she slapped a hand through the air. “Enough.”
As her family at least pretended to go on about their own business, he said, “You’re never going to forgive me for this, are you?” How dare him for being so easygoing.
“Hey, I’m the last of your worries now,” she said, determined to take the upper hand. “You just committed to a three-hour dinner with my family.”
He looked over his shoulder at them. “What could be so bad about that?”
With a grin of victory, she said, “You just wait.” Fate might have forced them together a few times, and Annalisa might have failed in keeping him away, but surely a night with her family would do the trick. Not that she wasn’t flattered by his pursuit.
He held up the bouquet of flowers. “Shall we go find your grandmother?”
“Suit yourself.” With a grin of warning, she gestured through the dining room to the kitchen. “She’s in there.” Annalisa’s aunts still talked about how terrifying Nonna had been to their suitors growing up. She would eat Thomas alive.
He didn’t seem to be as nervous as he should have been as he walked that way—a soldier heading toward enemy fire. After quietly shooing off the rest of her rubbernecking family members, Annalisa followed him into the kitchen to see the fireworks but found herself delighting in the pleasant scent of his cologne as it trailed behind him.
Nonna stood at the stove, stirring a red sauce made with tomatoes that they’d grown in the backyard and frozen for the cold months.
“Mrs.Mancuso?”
She twisted her head in slow motion. “Yes?”
“I’m Thomas Barnes.”
Nonna lifted the wooden spoon and knocked it against the rim, splattering a few drops of red onto her apron. Holding the spoon like a sword, she said, “Thomas Barnes.” Then she tsk-tsked, looking him up and down. “You’re here to call on my granddaughter?”
“Well, I’m here to visit with her, so yes.” If he was nervous, he hid it well.
“I see,” she said, then mumbled something in Italian to herself.
He stood tall. “I’m honored to meet you. Annalisa has told me wonderful things.”
Nonna cut her eyes to Annalisa. “I’m sure she has.”
Annalisa wanted to say that she’d never encouraged Thomas and that she hadn’t been hiding a relationship, but she didn’t want to embarrass or hurt him.
He held out the flowers and stepped toward Nonna. “These are for you.”
To Annalisa, she said, “He’s a charmer, isn’t he?”
Dangerously so,Annalisa thought, but she gave an I-wouldn’t-know shrug.
Nonna set the spoon on the utensil rest and reached for the flowers. Thomas and Annalisa watched silently as she moved about the kitchen, arranging the gift in a vase and giving the flowers water. Once she’d set them on the windowsill above the sink, she asked, “Are you Catholic?”
