“That’s it, you guys. Back off now, and I mean it,” I said. I turned to Emily. “It’s a long story. Mary Catherine and I aren’t married,” I started. I laughed suddenly. “That didn’t come out right. What I mean to say is—”
“What he means to say is that I work for this crew,” Mary Catherine said. “Pleased to meet you,” she said, shaking Emily’s hand briskly.
“Oh, my mistake,” Emily said.
Just then, the saliva-inducing scent of rosemary, garlic, and pepper hit us like a freight train. Emily turned as Juliana placed a massive roasted leg of lamb on the dining room table. It smelled insanely good.
“On Sundays, Mary Catherine pulls out all the stops,” I explained.
Emily’s eyes went wide as Brian came in carrying mashed potatoes on a platter the size of a toboggan.
“You definitely do
not have to stay,” I said to Emily. “Don’t let these tricksters fool you with their polite routine. We redefine the term family-style.”
Socky began rubbing himself on Emily’s shin.
“But, Daddy, look. Even Socky wants her to stay,” said Chrissy, batting her butterfly-wing eyelids up at Emily.
Emily knelt down and finally petted the cat.
“Well, if Socky says I should, I guess I have to,” she said.
“In that case, here,” I said, pouring Emily a huge glass of red wine. “You’re going to need this.”
Chapter 17
TRYING TO KEEP her balance amid the swirl of kids and motion in the bright, warm apartment, Emily Parker sipped her wine and smiled.
Incredible, she thought. All these children. So many races. They had to be adopted, right? At least some of them did. And was there a Mrs. Bennett? She’d definitely gotten single vibes off Mike.
She watched as Mike knelt down and lifted up the seven-year-old black boy and softly judo-flipped him over his shoulder onto the couch next to an Asian girl.
She certainly hadn’t expected this.
“Hey!” one of the kids yelled. “Check it out!”
On the TV screen, Emily and Mike were on the sidewalk in front of the Bronx building. The coverage of the kidnapping had already begun.
The children all started clapping. One of the tween girls put her pinkies in her mouth and whistled like a doorman hailing a taxi. Emily chuckled as she watched Bennett take an elaborate bow.
“Thank you, everyone. No autographs, please. Enough fame for now, it’s time to eat!”
And the dinner, Emily thought as they finally sat, looked incredible. One of the hugest dining room tables she’d ever seen, and set with china, no less. How did they manage that? Looking at the faces of the kids finding their seats, she thought of herself and Olivia eating Lean Cuisines at the kitchen island in her silent town house. Could this be more different?
They all folded their hands together and closed their eyes as the priest led them in saying grace.
“Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty through Christ our Lord, amen,” the sweet old man said. “Now pass the gravy!”
She didn’t just see that, did she? The setting looked like a lost cover of The Saturday Evening Post, only it was real. The only time she ever had a home-cooked meal like this was on Thanksgiving at her dad’s house.
The last thing Emily had expected when she was called on special assignment this afternoon was that she’d be eating dinner with some crazy, enormous, happy family. She couldn’t wait to call her daughter and tell her all about them.
She shook her head as she caught Mike’s eye at the head of the table.
“And a cat, too?” she said.
“Ah, he’s just another loafer,” Mike said. “Like the priest.”