Page 39 of Four Stepbrothers for Christmas

She was taking it somewhat hard, her expressive eyes a little too wide, a slightly manic undertone to the laughter that bubbled up from her. It was out of character, a kind of nervous laughter that echoed the shared absurdity of the situation.

I took a step closer, my voice a low rumble. "Hey - deep breaths.” It wasn't just advice for her; it was a mantra I was repeating to myself. Despite the world seemingly shifting beneath our feet, one thing remained a constant – my attraction to her and the unspoken bond we shared.

She tried to stifle her laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. "Isaac, of all the crazy twists in the world," she whispered, still giggling. "This has got to be the most unexpected."

"I won't argue with that," I replied, offering a small, reassuring smile. I reached out, taking her hand in mine. The touch was grounding for both of us.

The room began to fill with the aroma of the impending meal, the fragrances acting as a momentary distraction. But even as Sal and Mary’s food was laid out and we all tried to engage in normal dinner conversation, there was a lingering sense of wonderment, a series of unanswered questions.

As we stood together, a tall figure appeared at the entrance of the dining room. My gaze shifted to the newcomer. His build was lean and a bit wiry. His dark hair, almost the same shade as Becca's but with a hint of a wave, was slicked back, and his penetrating eyes scanned the room, lingering particularly on Becca and the four of us.

I couldn’t say for certain, but it seemed as if he was piecing something together, the contemplative expression giving away his intrigue. There was an unmistakable protective aura about him that spoke of countless shared memories and secrets with Becca.

“So,” he said, his tone skeptical. “These are the guys, huh?”

"Guys, this is Michael, my brother," Becca interjected, breaking the brief tension. "Michael, these are my bosses—the Gallo brothers: Archer, Luke, Vinnie," she gestured to each in turn, "and this is Isaac Tyson."

“Come on, sis – no one calls me Michael. It’s Mikey.”

He shook our hands, one after the other, his gaze flicking to each of us. There was a nervousness to him, though he kept an easy smile on his face.

“So, these are the famous bosses, huh?”

“Pleased to meet you,” I replied as we shook hands, his palm cool and a bit clammy.

Feeling a sudden need for space, or maybe just something to do, Becca pulled away. "Drinks?" she suggested, a forced cheer in her voice, her eyes darting nervously.

"I'd love a scotch," Sal's voice boomed in from the kitchen. The mention of alcohol seemed to cut through the fog of Archer’s surprise, his face brightening momentarily at the prospect of wine.

We all gave our drink orders, though the mention of alcohol seemed to make Mikey a bit skittish.

“I’ll go help Mom,” he said. He didn’t wait for a reply before ducking out of the room and into the kitchen.

Joining Becca at the bar, I helped her pour the drinks, our hands occasionally brushing against each other. "So," I began, opting for a light tone, "how did you miss the memo about your mom dating a Gallo?"

She sighed, "Honestly? She'd mentioned dating someone, but nothing serious. And never a name. Had I known..."

As the door swung open, Mary entered the room, holding herself with the confidence of a queen and the grace of a ballet dancer. Balancing a hefty bowl filled with a salad that boasted an array of colors, she attempted to reclaim the atmosphere. The room, however, was thick with tension, a tangible fog of unsaid words and emotions.

“This was quite the shock,” I said with a smile. “Have to admit.”

Mary, in a genuine bubbly manner, exclaimed, "Well, Sal and I just thought it'd be the most delightful surprise for everyone. A sort of early Christmas present." She looked around, her eyes scanning each face, hoping to find some signs of agreement, if not enthusiasm.

Becca's response came in the form of another laugh. But unlike her genuine chuckles I’d heard before, this one was different. It was like listening to a melody played on an out-of-tune instrument.

Mary, her motherly instincts immediately kicking in, addressed her daughter's discomfort. "Honey, are you okay?" The concern in her eyes was evident.

Becca, attempting to keep the atmosphere light, replied with a somewhat shaky voice, "I’m absolutely fine, Mom. This... it's just… a hell of a surprise, you know?"

Vinnie, always ready to lighten a heavy room, decided it was his turn to chime in. Flashing a boyish grin, he remarked, "Well, Mary, you've certainly given us a surprise. But, in all honesty, it’s a good kind of unexpected."

However, Mikey's approach was starkly different. There was a slight edge to his voice as he commented. "I didn’t even realize you were seeing someone." The underlying accusation was palpable. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Mary lifted an eyebrow at her son but said nothing about his tone. Clearly, she didn’t want to make a scene. She busied herself, placing the salad on the table, expertly arranging the rest of the dinnerware. “You and I discussed this at the airport, Mikey. Besides, I wanted to make sure this was something serious before I shared the news. And now that I know for sure it is, here we are!”

Seizing the moment to engage Mikey and perhaps diffuse the brewing storm, I ventured, "Mikey, care for a drink?"

But before the words could fully leave my lips, Becca interjected, her voice firm, "He’s sticking to water."

---