Page 54 of Fall Into You
If Liza and I ever get over this fucking fight and settle down into a serious relationship, I think I’m gonna end up gainingat leasta good thirty pounds just by visiting her family twice a month.
Jesus, this shit looks incredible.
I’m scarfing down my third bruschetta when we’re called to the table. As I’ve been doing since I first came to this house in October, I make my way to what I have now assumed to be my seat. Vinny, however, has different plans for me this time around.
“No, man, why don’t you let Danielle sit there. That way, the girls can talk during dinner,” he says tightly. All three women and I look at Vinny, confused. What’s with the sudden change?
“I just spent the last three hours cooking with Liza—I think we’re caught up,” Danielle says, narrowing her eyes at him. What is he playing at?
“Fine, then I’ll go sit next to Liza. I haven’t been able to spend much time with her anyway.” He starts to make a move around the table when Catterina interrupts.
“Vinny, this is my house, my table. You do not get to tell people where to sit,” she says firmly in a very scary tone I never want to be on the other end of. “Go back to your seat. I will sit at the head of the table, Liza will sit on my right, as she always does, and Matt will sit next to her. You and Danielle need to sit together to feed the kids.”
Vinny doesn’t look happy about this, and I know that it’s because I officially blew my cover at the grocery store. If he didn’t suspect that I had feelings for his sister before, he does now—especially since Liza and I have literally not spoken to each other in front of them since last night, and it is getting awkward. Everyone takes their seats—the twins included—and I’m finally able to take in the decadent feast in front of us.
“Whoa,” I say, my mouth literally watering. I’ve never seen a more unique array of Thanksgiving dishes. “What is this?”
Catterina smiles proudly at the fruits of their labor. “Well, when Pietro and I first moved to the U.S., we wanted to embrace American culture but never forget our roots. We never hesitated in celebrating an American holiday because our children are American, and this country has been very good to us, but we always added a little Italian spin to it.”
“We even make sure to have at least some pasta during Fourth of July,” Liza says with a smile, and it’s the first time she’s talked to me or even looked in my direction all day. I smile broadly back at her, thanking her enormously for this white flag she seems to be waving. Because that’s what this is, right? She’s not pulling away or going back to ignoring me. She’s smiling.
“That’s so awesome,” I reply to her, never removing my eyes from her beautiful face. It feels like I haven’t looked at it all day, like she’s hidden herself away from me, even when we were in the same room.
I’m snapped back to reality when she kicks me under the table—I guess I was staring? I turn back to Catterina and tell her, “This is incredible. You really do manage to marry the two. I don’t know where to begin!”
“Here,” Catterina says, pushing a dish to me. “Start with the prosciutto and spinach-stuffed turkey breast, and then make your way through to the zucchinis, rosemary and goat cheese potatoes, and the meatballs in cranberry sauce.”
Holy shit.
“I also made the risotto you liked from when you were here last time. The butternut squash one,” she adds. “I don’t usually make it for Thanksgiving, but I know you liked it.”
Liked it? I fucking loved it.
“Don’t forget about my dish!” Danielle points to the sweet potato casserole with the crispy marshmallow topping. It looks so good.
“My mom let’s Danielle pickoneAmerican side dish to do each year, since sheisn’tItalian, and this is an American holiday, after all,” Liza whispers in my ear, trying to control her laughter at Danielle’s eagerness.
“What are you guys whispering about?” Vinny asks, his eyes narrowed in our direction, bouncing between both of our faces.
Easy, officer.
I feel like I should be raising my hands in front of me, showing that I’m holding no weapons, but Liza shrugs and casually reaches for the risotto. “Just telling Matt about Danielle’s gastronomical contribution to our table.”
So simple and absolutely true, but Vinny doesn’t buy it. I can see his trust in me fracturing by the second, putting together every tiny detail and coincidence of the last month and a half, none of which would be easy to connect were it not for the fact that I expressed interest in his sister six weeks ago in this very house.
Vinny stares at his sister through narrowed eyes as she steadily holds his gaze and serves herself a generous helping of risotto. She passes the dish to me, and mercifully, Catterina distracts her son by asking how the game was.
“I’LL GO GETanother bottle of the red,” Liza says, getting up from her seat. She makes her way into the kitchen, and I wonder whether this could be my shot to talk to her alone, even if it’s only for a few seconds. I just want to ask her if her comment and smile at the beginning of the dinner was really a white flag or not? Are we done with our fight? Can we go back to talking?
“Oh, no,” I say, patting my pants pockets. “I left my cell phone downstairs in the basement,” I lie (it’s in my pocket). “I’m so sorry, Catterina, but would you excuse me? I just need to have it on hand, but it’s only for emergencies, of course.”
I don’t know whether Catterina knows that I intend to sneak off and see her daughter or whether she really buys that crap, but she smiles and tells me, “Of course you’re excused.”
I get up and walk around the table, doing my best not to run to the door.
“Hey,” I say,finallyalone and addressing her directly, “do you need some help with that?” I see her struggling with the bottle opener and the red wine and walk over to her.
“Nope, I got it.” She smiles weakly at me, it fading as fast as it came.
