Page 154 of Rosetti Family New York
I’m not sure what to say, either.
“I—”
“She’s worried,” Domenico finishes for me.
“About what?” Carmela pulls back just far enough to look me in the eyes. “We’ve missed you!”
“See?” Dom says.
I see. I see that he’s right, and I see that I’m ridiculous, and I feel relief on the Carmela front for the first time in three weeks.
It doesn’t last. It’s swallowed by chaos as Dom's mother, Gianna, rushes to hug me, and then I’m engulfed by greetings and laughter, loud and loving. The rest of the family crowds around us, eager and bright-eyed. Eleanor and Juliet, even Sal.
“You still look too thin,” Gianna says, shaking her head as she hugs me. “Does he not feed you?”
“I feed her very well, Ma.” Dom is beside me, reassuring, still holding my hand.
Carmela tugs at my other one. She’s pulling me through a jumble of siblings and husbands and cousins. Each hug feels like an exclamation mark. I don’t know how to keep up.
Beside me, Eleanor gives me a knowing look. “Not used to this?” she says.
“Not really.”
Not at all. The closest we ever got to celebrations at home was when Baba got what he wanted, a successful business deal or some underhanded coup, and he came home with a case of champagne and got drunk by himself.
“We can tell,” says a voice that could only be Leonardo’s.
“She’ll be fine,” Sal says, amused, as if he’s been watching this unfold exactly as expected. “Give her time.”
“And an aspirin,” Rafe mutters, his arms crossed. He looks at Dom with a knowing smirk.
“If she’s staying, she’ll need more than an aspirin,” Emilio adds.
Matteo grins. “Ear plugs. Definitely ear plugs.”
“It’s Christmas!” Carmela says. “We can be quiet.”
“Wanna bet?” Leo cracks his knuckles, and I wonder how soon this will end in disaster. He’s already wrestling with Matteo, both of them laughing. I should feel like a stranger. I should feel alone. I don’t.
“What do you think?” Domenico asks. His eyes are intent, missing nothing.
“Honest?”
He nods.
“I think I’m terrified,” I admit.
I let go of his hand for a second to brush the hair from my eyes. When I take it again, it’s because I want to, not because I need to.
“That all?” His voice is softer, low enough that no one else hears.
“Terrified but happy.”
He sweeps up my hand and kisses it. “Sounds like every damn Christmas I've ever endured.”
I try to answer, but Carmela pulls me away again, chattering as fast as the rest of the room is moving. She leads me to a pair of plush couches, both buried under boxes and paper.
“Here! You sit by us.” She pushes aside a stack of shiny packages, a bright smile on her face. “We have so much to catch up on.”
