Page 53 of Replay
“Hello?” I answer, tucking my mobile against my ear as I reach in my fridge to grab the groceries to make Tilly dinner.
“What are you making her?” my mother’s voice chirps loudly.
“Food,” I reply curtly. I should never have told my mother I was cooking for her when she called a couple of days ago. She is like a dog with a bone.
“Tell me exactly. And what wine are you pairing with it?”
“No wine, Mamma. Remember?”
“Oh, that’s right, she can’t drink.” Her tone is flat. “Gosh, no wine with dinner is a travesty.”
“It’s fine.”
“And you don’t drink because of her? Are you never going to drink again if you stay with this girl?”
I shrug. “It hasn’t been a bother yet. And she can drink. She just chooses not to.”
“Interesting.”
“I can hear your judgment.”
“I’m not judging,” she responds defensively. “I’m just processing. Wine is like water to Italians.”
“I know, but it’s really not that big of a deal. I’m making us espressos.”
“What did you make for dessert?”
I sigh heavily. “Are you really going to make me do this?”
“What?”
I stop fussing with the food. “You and Nonna taught me how to cook, now trust that I will cook her a brilliant dinner that won’t make her vomit all over the table.”
“This is not a joke.” Her voice is softer when she adds, “You’ve never cooked for a woman before.”
My brows furrow. “You don’t know that.”
“Well, have you?”
My nostrils flare. “No.”
“Exactly.” She tsks into the line. “This is important, and you making jokes isn’t going to distract me. You were so moody last Sunday. Then she showed up, and it was like somebody turned a light on inside you. You said you dated her once before?”
“We weren’t technically dating. Just…friends.” I wince, hoping she doesn’t pry further on that subject.
She harumphs. “Friends make good lovers.”
“Okay, Mamma, I need to hang up. She’s going to be here soon.”
“Will you tell her?” she rushes out before I have a chance to say goodbye.
“Tell her what?”
“You know what I’m talking about, Santino. Don’t play dumb.”
My entire body goes still, my hands clenching into fists at the sudden change in topic. My voice is low when I reply, “Mum, it’s too soon for that.”
“I know, but that’s all you and I have talked about on our trips. You want someone you don’t have to hide from. This is the first one I’ve ever met so that has to mean something, doesn’t it?”
