That's (Not Exactly) Amore (21 page)

“I’m up, Ma. Come in.”

I love seeing her wearing the white robe. Although it seems a little looser than just a couple of weeks ago.

“Have you dropped some weight?” I ask, pulling myself up and hugging my knees to my chest as she sits at the foot of my bed.

A pleased smile spreads across her face. “I’ve been eating better. It means a lot to Aaron for us to take care of ourselves. I signed up for that Silver Sneakers program at the YMCA. We’ve been working out.”

“Well, you look great.”

“Thank you, honey. I have some turkey bacon and egg-white omelets staying warm in the oven. I’m just about to make some whole wheat toast. Come on and eat before you get started on your baking.”

“Whole wheat toast and egg-white omelets, huh? You really are eating better.”

She nods. “Aaron’s first wife died of diabetes. Even though she didn’t do anything to cause it, he just wants us to do everything we can to stay healthy and not rush our deaths by irresponsible lifestyle choices.”

“Wow. It sounds like he wants to keep you around for some time.”

Her cheeks blush a pretty rose. “That’s the idea. As a matter of fact, that’s what I wanted to discuss with you.”

“What?”

“We’ve decided not to have a large wedding after all.”

My jaw goes slack at the unexpected announcement. “Why would you do that, Ma? I was just starting to warm to the idea of being your maid of honor.”

“You can still stand up with us.” She draws a deep sigh. “We’re just not waiting and having a big wedding. Chad has been making terrible threats about getting a judge to declare Aaron incompetent and naming Chad his guardian.”

Outrage yanks me out of bed. I plop my hands on my hips. “He can’t do that, can he?”

She shrugs. “I doubt it. But we both feel it would be wise to nip it in the bud before he can even try. If I’m Aaron’s wife, Chad won’t have a leg to stand on.”

I see her point. But I hate the idea of my mother having to sneak around and have a tiny ceremony instead of standing up in front of her friends at church like she and Aaron had planned. “I’m sorry, Ma. I know the wedding meant a lot to you.”

“Well, the marriage is the important thing.”

“So when were you thinking of taking the plunge?”

“We’re going to Pastor Moore this Saturday. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. We’re going to take a few days away for a honeymoon.” Her gaze falters as her face blushes a deep red.

I feel my own cheeks burn. I definitely don’t need to think about my senior citizen mother on her honeymoon. Ick!

“Anyway, I’d like you to stay and housesit if you don’t mind.”

I push back the covers and scoot to the end of the bed. I, wrap my arms around her, and hold on for dear life. “Of course I’ll stay here while you’re gone. You have nothing to worry about.”

Mom pulls away and gives me a pat on the back. “Thank you, honey. I’ll let you get dressed. Come down soon so you can eat while it’s fresh.”

I watch her leave and something squeezes my heart. I feel like I’m losing my mom. Not that I wish she was still in deep mourning over Dad. She’s definitely in a better place emotionally, at least from what I can see. But it seems like everyone is moving on. Why am I the only one standing still?

By the time I arrive home that night, I’m exhausted and ready to take a shower and fall into bed. Thank goodness Mom has a double oven, which allowed me to bake twice as fast as I could have at home. It’ll take me most of the morning tomorrow to make my deliveries. I’m tired just thinking about it.

Laughter from the kitchen greets me when I step inside. I glance at my watch with a frown. It’s eleven thirty. My apartment rules state no men past midnight, so no rules are being violated. But staying up this late on a weekday means not nearly enough sleep. What is Nancy thinking?

I have no choice but to go into the kitchen so I can refrigerate the stuffed sandwiches. Otherwise the meat will go bad.

I know I’m a mess. A haggard, thirty-year-old mess. I’m not looking forward to walking into the kitchen and giving Joe the opportunity to compare me to Nancy.

“Hi, Laini!” Nancy’s smile seems genuine. “Have you eaten? There’s some spaghetti left over. It’s Ragu. Don’t tell Nana.”

“I’m sure I’ll never see Nana again,” I say, then realize I missed the point. It was a joke. “Hi, Joe.”

He stands and takes the load out of my hands. “You look beat.”

I roll my eyes as Nancy shakes her head at him. “Joe!” she says. “You’re about as sensitive as an ape.”

“What?”

“It’s okay. Thanks for taking the basket. Just set it on the counter there. I need to put the sandwiches in the fridge.”

“Want some help?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Nah. I’ll need to maneuver some things around in there to make it all fit.”

Joe reaches forward and touches my hair.

He must see my confusion because he grins. “You have dough stuck in your curls.” He pulls his hand back and shows me a clump of dried dough.

My eyes go wide. “Darn it. I guess I rode the train back like that. No wonder everyone was staring at me.”

Nancy laughs. “They were staring because you were carrying that basket. I’m surprised you made it home without being accosted.”

Joe frowns. “I never thought of that.” His brown eyes pierce me. “Why didn’t you call me?”

Nancy lifts the bowl of leftovers from the table and walks toward the sink. She gives Joe a light backhand on the arm. “Relax. I was kidding.”

“No. I think you might have a point.”

I’m starting to revel in his protectiveness a little too much, I guess, when a husky female voice infiltrates the room. “Is the party breaking up already?”

I turn toward the voice. A beautiful brunette (she must be Italian) stands at the doorway of the kitchen looking sexy in a tight sweater and equally tight jeans. Her feet are encased in a pair of leather high-heeled boots. Black. Just like my mood all of a sudden.

I turn my gaze to Joe. He averts his eyes and reaches up to knead the back of his neck. An action I’ve noticed he seems to do when he’s struggling with nerves.

Nancy looks from Joe to me and her eyes widen. I’m not sure what that’s all about, but I give her a look as the awkward silence stretches out like a Slinky. And speaking of slinky, the woman—whoever she is—is showing a glimpse of lacy push-up bra around the edge of her sweater. Inwardly, I curse Victoria’s Secret.

Finally, I step forward since no one else seems inclined to break the wall of silence. “Hi, I’m Laini, Nancy’s roommate.”

She smiles broadly, a smile that reaches her eyes. “Nancy has told me so much about you.”

“She has?”

“Of course. She says you bake the best cinnamon rolls she’s ever tasted.”

I wish Nancy would regale her with my knack for interior design, but at least she’s praising me for one of my accomplishments.

The woman is smiling broadly. I suppose it doesn’t occur to anyone that I still don’t know her name.

Joe finally clears his throat and steps forward. He presses his hand to the small of my back. “Laini, this is Cindy. Cindy is a friend of Nancy’s.”

I gathered that
, I want to snap, but I don’t. There’s no point in making myself look like a jealous idiot. And let’s be clear about something. I am
not
jealous. I just feel really duped. It’s obvious Nancy’s fixing these two up. And she didn’t even bother to tell me she was doing it. What does that say about our friendship?

Joe’s hand is still on my back. He gives a little squeeze and my heart picks up a beat. “I guess it’s getting late. I—uh—better be going.”

Cindy pops up. “I’ll share a cab with you.” She reminds me of a bobble-head doll, all smiles and constant movement. In a beat, she pumps my hand. “So good to meet you, Landy! I swear I’ll have to try one of those cinnamon rolls sometime.”

She did not call me Landy, did she? In a way, it makes me feel better. Methinks Cindy isn’t the nice girl she pretends to be. It won’t take Joe long to see through her. If he can keep his gaze from her cleavage and focus on her fake smile and catty personality. But what do I care? It would serve Nana right to have someone like this girl in the family.

I just wouldn’t wish it on Joe.

Joe slides into his jacket. “Actually, Cindy, her name is Laini, not Landy.”

Nancy springs into action and grabs Cindy’s jacket from the back of a chair. Cindy gives a fake gasp. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I just have a terrible memory for names.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I want to say “Cammie” so badly, but I don’t. “It was an honest mistake.”
Liar!

I hang back at the kitchen door and watch as Nancy walks Joe and Cindy through the living room to the door. I don’t even want to think about what will happen once Cindy gets Joe alone in the cab. Right now she has a look of anticipation that reminds me of a cat hovering over a mouse hole.

Just before leaving, Joe turns and gives me a little wave. “See you, Laini.”

I nod and wave back. “Sure. Have a nice evening.” With
her
.

Nancy seems nervous as she returns to the kitchen. I start removing plates from the table. Plates for a meal I wasn’t invited to.

“So, Cindy seems nice,” I say hesitantly.

I don’t miss Nancy’s rueful smile. “Not as nice as I thought.”

“Oh?” How does one convincingly feign surprise when she’s not an actress?

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice her claws. As soon as she got back from the bathroom and saw you standing there with Joe, she turned from a kitty cat into a big, mean jaguar.”

I shrug, scraping dishes into the sink. “I didn’t really notice.”

I miss her reply as I switch on the disposal.

When I switch it off, Nancy is still on the subject. “Believe me, if I had known what a . . . well, whatever she is, I would never have invited her and Joe over here at the same time. You don’t think he’s dumb enough to be taken in by her looks and boobs, do you?” She seems as worried as I do. But probably not for the same reason.

I hope not, I hope not, I hope not.
The images of those two floating through my mind are making me sick to my stomach. All I can think about is how much I don’t want Joe to kiss her.

We make small talk about Mom and the wedding and my spending next week at the house on Long Island. “You’ll be there all week?” Nancy seems relieved—excited, in fact. I’m a little insulted. After all, who invited whom to move in?

I nod. “Starting Saturday.”

She jerks her thumb in the direction of the door. “Cindy is Bill Cantanelli’s sister.”

“Who’s that?”

The expression sliding across her face can only be described as one of bewilderment. “The contractor?”

Oh, shoot. I should have known that. “Oh, yeah.”

“Cindy is an interior designer too. They work together on most projects. Of course, this one is different.”

“Because of me.”

She nods, wiping the table with gusto. What am I supposed to do—apologize?

“I actually thought maybe she could use you after you graduate.”

My eyebrows go up. “You did?”

“You’re going to need a job, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah. I haven’t really figured that part out yet.”

“Laini. You’re set to graduate in two months. How can you not already be lining up a job?”

“I don’t know. I thought I’d make sure I do in fact get a diploma before I humiliate myself unnecessarily.”

“You have to have some confidence, girl.” She plants her hands on her slender, jeans-clad hips. “How do you expect to convince an employer to take a chance on you if you don’t believe in yourself?”

See? That’s the point. “How can I believe in myself when I’ve forgotten half of the lessons I’ve learned over the last year and a half? Jazz knows everything instinctively. She’s wonderful and blazes into a room with ideas coming out of her ears.” I plop down in one of the kitchen chairs. “I stand there and all I can see is the existing decor. Most of the time I wonder why it needs to be changed.”

Nancy goes to the refrigerator and pulls out a cheesecake. “Joe brought it. Said it was your favorite and we should save you some.”

Pleasure shoots through me, but I try to hide my delight. “That was thoughtful.”

“Mm-hmm.” I can feel her eyeing me as she cuts the cake and dishes out two slices. She sets them down on the table. “Are you sure there’s nothing between you two? He seemed pretty hacked off that I’d brought him here to set him up with Cindy. I guess he thought when I said, ‘There’s someone you need to be dating,’ that I meant you.”

I keep my gaze firmly fixed on the cheesecake with raspberry swirls. “I can’t imagine why he would have assumed that. He’s made it clear there’s nothing but friendship between us.”

“He’s pretty jealous of Mark.” She slips a bite into her mouth and waits for me to comment. So I oblige.

“Mark’s jealous of him too. But I’ve told him there’s no reason to be.”

“Are things getting serious with you two?”

I have to stop and think about that for a second. I mean, we kiss. But last night’s kisses were less than exciting for me. I attributed it to simple fatigue, but I just don’t know. I don’t have anything to compare it to as far as Joe is concerned. Kisses on the cheek don’t count.

“Hello?” Nancy gives the table a little pat. “Did you hear the question? Or are you avoiding it?”

I shrug. “I’m not sure. Mark and I haven’t dated that long.”

“You’ve already met his family.”

“Only his dad and sister. He’s been pretty quiet about his mom.”

“She’s probably a hag.”

“Or a nag.”

She grins. “Or a bag.”

I giggle. “I can’t think of anything else.”

“Me neither.”

“Besides, she might be a lovely woman.”

“Could be.”

“Too bad Joe doesn’t have a mom.”

“I only remember her a little. She was really nice. Quiet. She doted on Joe. I think it bothered Frank how much Joe loved his mom.”

“Why would it?”

She shrugs and hesitates.

“Nancy, is Frank in the mob?”

Her face flames. “Don’t start thinking along those lines, Laini. It doesn’t pay to get too nosy.”

I think she just answered my question.