I stick my tongue out at her. “Don’t be a sore bitching loser.”
“Language, the both of you,” Ma says, putting a stop to our little squabble.
“I’m guessing Lucio’s being an ass, as usual,” Matteo says, walking past Mara and me and into the kitchen.
He plants a kiss on the top of Ma’s head. The fucker is taller than Romiro and me, but still stands a couple of inches shorter than Eli.
“You guessed right.” Mara says, walking further into the kitchen, wrapping her arms around Ma.
The twins are the youngest, which means they get babied, even at twenty-one years old.
“Ugh, I’m going to the living room.” Turning, I head down the hall to the family room.
I can hear Valentina and my cousin, Alessia, talking. Something about the proposal Romiro had set up a couple of months ago.
Stepping down the three small stairs, I enter the living room. The black piano that Pops used to play lies untouched to my left. I spot Eli and Rom sitting in the far corner, both flipping through papers that are sprawled out in front of them on the coffee table, their elbows on their knees. The TV mounted above the fireplace plays the news, but no one pays it any attention. Baby Bee is sitting up on the white and gray Persian carpet, her mouth closed around her teddy bear’s ear as if she’s trying to rip the thing off.
“‘Sup, assholes?” I ask, moving closer to where Bianca is sitting.
“Language, Lucio. Not in front of Bianca,” Val says, a sigh leaving her lips as she shakes her head.
I don’t know how many times she has told me she doesn’t want me swearing in front of Bianca, but it’s not like they don’t swear like sailors.
“She doesn’t mind.” I say, picking Bee up. “Do you, Bee? You don’t mind your favorite uncle swearing.”
She gives me a smile; she only has one tooth at the moment, which gives her an even more cartoonish look than her wide sapphire blue eyes. Her fist is wrapped around her teddy that’s wet with drool. I grimace and try not to gag, but Emiliano spots my expression.
He chuckles. “Try holding back a gag while trying to clean up a baby’s throw-up off yourself and her. Not to mention the diaper blowouts.Jesus.The smell is atrocious.”
“Emiliano,” Ma chastises as she walks in, a tray of fruit and pretzels in her hand.
“What?” Eli is holding back a laugh as if talking about diapers is something funny.
Christ. I’m definitely not having kids, because what the actual fuck?
“Please, not before we eat. We love Bianca, but don’t talk about changing diapers, or vomiting.” Ma’s clearly holding back a gag as well.
Baby Bee looks around, clueless as to what is going on.
We all settle down, some sitting on the couch and some on the floor. I’m on the floor with Baby Bee in my lap, my arms loosely tied around her small frame. Her fingers trace over my hands; she’s probably curious about the tattoos that cover the entirety of them.
The lights in the room dim, and the intro of the movie plays. I can’t believe they let Mara have her way. Who the fuck wants to watchSweet Home Alabama?
Instead of watching the movie, I decide to nudge Mara, who is sitting to my right a couple of inches in front of me, with my foot. She scoots away from it, but she’s clearly stupid enough to think that I won’t nudge her again. This time, she doesn’t move. She grabs my foot with her hand and sinks her claws into my flesh. I grind my molars, trying to avoid making any noise.
Oh, it is on.
I hold Bee a little tighter before yanking my foot back and smashing it into Mara’s side. This time, she yelps out in pain, and everyone turns their attention to us.
Mara whips around, glaring at me. “Why do you have to be so immature?”
I shrug, the move uncaring, hoping it’ll piss her off even more. “Why are you such a bitch for sappy movies?”
Mara rolls her eyes.
Of course, Eli interjects. “Lucio, if you don’t want to be here, then leave. No one is making you stay.”
“No, no. No one is leaving. Lucio, apologize to your sister right now.” Ma sounds tired, the bags under her eyes seem tostand out even more right now, and her hair isn’t as well kept as it usually is.