Page 120 of Gin & Trouble

“Thank you.” I fought hard to hold back my tears. Not that it mattered, most of the Marchionnis in the crowd were crying and laughing and hugging. I’d never been around such an affectionate bunch.

Enzo eased back, but kept his hand on my shoulder. “I’d like to introduce you to my wife, Shanna.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” A tiny woman with spiky hair offered me her hand but before I could take it, she seemed to change her mind and go in for a hug. She released me, wiped her eyes, and muttered something about pregnancy hormones.

I liked her instantly. “Nice to meet you, too.Buon Natale.”

“Merry Christmas.” Enzo reached over and rubbed Dante’s fuzzy head. “And having you two home is the best present of all.”

A chorus onBuon Natalesand Merry Christmases filled the air as we walked inside. I’d grown up in a large family—a large Italian family— but I’d never experienced anything like it. Sure, it wasn’t every day a son returned from the dead. However, I had the feeling the Marchionnis were loud and warm and full of love every other day of the year.

The living room was massive, but what impressed me the most was the gigantic tree set near a wall of sliding glass doors. Colorful bulbs gave the otherwise dim room a homey, holiday feel. I would have expected the Marchionnis to have an over-the-top designer motif, but the ornaments consisted of construction paper chains, yarn woven around popsicle sticks, and Santas with cotton balls for beards.

The family quieted when Evelyn pushed Papa Joe’s wheelchair into the room. The matriarch of the family was a wisp of a woman, thin, short, and beautiful. Her diminutive size didn’t fool me. She was a force of nature capable of commanding a legion of overgrown boys, their wives, and her grandchildren with a single raised brow.

“Ma.” Dante stepped out of the crowd.

Evelyn made the sign of the cross, pressed her hand to her chest, and burst into tears.

“See? He’s safe. What did I tell you?” Papa Joe gripped his wife’s arm. He might have played the tough guy, but there was no mistaking the quiver in his voice.

Dante took me by the hand and pulled me toward his parents.

I wanted to protest I didn’t belong there. To step back and give them a moment alone. To go back to the relative safety of Enzo and Shanna. But I couldn’t find the words.

He wrapped his mother in a warm embrace and held her as she sobbed against his chest. “It’s okay, Ma. I’m home. I’m home.”

She pulled back enough to search his face. “You are bruised like a ripe banana, and what did they do to your beautiful curls?”

Papa Joe reached up and caressed his son’s cheek. “You did good kid. I’m proud.”

Dante released my hand and wrapped his free arm around his dad. “I love you, Pops.”

“Love you, too.” The elder Marchionni buried his face in his son’s shoulder. “Buon Natale.”

Evelyn caught me staring and pursed her lips while giving me a quick once over.

I braced myself for impact. If anyone would have something nasty to say to me, it would be her.

“Little Francesca Abruzzo, you have grown into a beautiful woman.” Her smile took ten years off her face. “I understand you saved my baby’s life?”

“Ma…” Dante grinned his bashful awe-shucks grin.

“What?” She pinched his cheeks. “Can a mother not speak to the woman her son is in love with?”

“Ma.” This time he spoke in a sterner tone, but even in the dim light, his blush was hard to miss.

Evelyn rolled her eyes and closed the distance between us.

I didn’t know if I should shake her hand or kiss her cheeks. Thankfully, she solved the dilemma by pulling me into an embrace. “Welcome to the family, Frankie.”

The Marchionnis standing behind us murmured as if stunned. Maybe they were. I certainly was.

“Thank you.”

She captured my face between her palms, looked into my eyes, and smiled. “You will treat my son well. Yes?”

Nodding, I whispered, “I love him.”

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