Papa finished plating the food and peered around her mother. “That’s because we have each other to lean on.”
Maria smiled. “Such a romantic.” Then she turned to Dylan and asked, “Are you?”
Dylan asked, “Romantic?”
She shook her head. “Someone to lean on? My daughter, can she count on you to be there if things are difficult, if she’s tired, or sick? Will you care for her at all times?”
Dylan opened his mouth, but Sofia saved him. Quickly reaching for a plate, she purposely toppled it over onto the floor. “Oh no. I’m sorry. Let me clean it up.” She dropped down to her knees but tilted her head and gave Dylan a wink.
“I’ll help you,” Dylan said.
“Oh, Papa, look at them. They are working together, just like us,” Maria said, holding her apron up to her eyes, as though the sight brought tears.
Papa said, “All of you, out of my kitchen. I will make another and we will all eat in a few minutes. Now go before anyone spills anything else.”
Dylan rose and offered Sofia a hand up as well. “Thank you Papa.” She kissed him on the cheek before she and Dylan headed back to their table.
Once out of earshot, he whispered in her ear, “Nice save.”
“Can’t promise it won’t be brought up over dinner, but for now, you’re in the clear.” With any luck, their brief display was enough to appease her parents. Sal, on the other hand, was going to be harder to sway. As they sat down, she noticed Sal glaring at Dylan. In just a few minutes, her parents would join them. It had to come out now. “Sal, what is wrong with you tonight?”
“Ask Dylan,” he replied.
She didn’t. “This is between you and me.”
Sal turned to her and said, “I think you’re moving too fast. You’ve only known him for a little over a week and you’re already sle—”
“Salvatore. Don’t you dare say it. What Dylan and I do or don’t is absolutely none of your business,” she snapped. “And what makes you think we are?”
“He was there pretty late last night,” Sal stated.
“You’re spying on me?” Her mouth gaped in shock.
“No. I was working and happened to drive by and saw his car.”
“Same thing Sal, and you know it,” she snarled. “You wouldn’t want me intruding in your personal life like that, so please don’t do it in mine.”
“So you’re denying anything serious happened?” Sal asked.
Dylan chimed in. “I believe she’s answered that.”
“And you’re what now? Her protector? How are you going to be that when you live in the city and she lives here?” Sal asked.
“Easy. She can move in with me,” Dylan said.
Sal’s eyes went dark and his fist clenched but nothing topped the shriek from her mother behind them. Sofia could hear but not understand what she was sputtering under her breath in Italian. But it wasn’t good.
Slowly she turned to see both her parents standing there holding trays of food for them to eat. Right now, she wasn’t sure Dylan wasn’t about to wear it. Sofia got up and said, “Mama, you should’ve called and I would’ve come help.” Taking the first tray from her mother, she placed it on the stand. Then she did the same for her father.
Maria, still muttering, walked over close to Dylan. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t even flinch. If he was scared, he didn’t show it. You should be. It was her father who spoke up in English first.
“Dylan, I do hope that we walked into a conversation that was about the future and not now,” he said firmly.
Sofia jumped in. “Papa, he was just talking about protecting me.”
Her father looked down at her. “From who? Are you in danger and we don’t know about it?”
“No Papa. In general. You know how men talk. Sal was just voicing his concerns and Dylan just—”