“And you seared the meat before putting it in the oven?”
“Yes, mom. I followed your recipe to the T.”
“Okay.” Mom sighed over the phone. “I’m just so happy for you,honey. You couldn’t’ve found a better man.”
I scoffed as I cut the potatoes. “You over your little crush on Casey Donovan?”
“Luca and Casey aren’t even in the same category of man, honey.”
Laughing, I tried to remember it was good that my mom had taken a shining to Luca, even if it bordered on fangirling. “Yeah, well, thanks for the recipe and help. I can’t wait to surprise him with dinner. The perfect way to say, ‘happy one month living together.’”
“I like hearing you this way, Sasha.”
Dropping the potatoes into the boiling water, I asked, “What way,mom?”
“Happy.” A timer went off in the background. “Listen, sweetie. Igottago if I’m going to have dinner ready by thetimeyour father gets home. Give Luca our love.”
“Will do. Love you, mom.”
“Love you, honey.”
Checking the oven, I set a timer for my potatoes, then went and laid out on the couch. Ryan curled up on my stomach as I flipped through Netflix, searching for something to watch. I started the next episode of the Great British Bake Off, ready to be wowed by feats of culinary magic, when my phone buzzed on the table.
LUCA:Earliest I’ll be home is 9. Sorry baby.
SASHA:But it’s Thursday.
LUCA:I’ll be home before it’s not. What’s up?
I huffed out a breath. He’d been late home every day this week. To be honest, so had I, but we’d promised to be home for dinner tonight.
LUCA:You can still order Indian without me. I’ll heat mine up when I get home.
I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, but it seemed like it didn’t matter anyway.
SASHA:It’s fine. Be safe getting home.
I put my phone down and stared at Ryan. His green eyes stared back at me as if he was trying to console me. His tail curled around him, and he rubbed his face against my hand.
Living with Luca was great when he was there. We both had demanding schedules, but his hours were so erratic that I could never plan for them. The only guaranteed alone time I had with him was Thursday nights and Saturdays, but now I was losing that. Our sex life had been regulated to the middle of the night when he got home and early in the morning before work. I saw more of him when I didn’t live with him, which was complete bullshit.
As I took the potatoes off the stove, there was a knock at the door. Excited to have someone distract me from my annoyance, I rushed to open the door.
A disheveled but smiling Adriana stood there. “Good, you’re home!”
“How can I help?”
We shuffled into the hallway. “Dante can’t find his Giving Tree book. I thought maybe he left it over here last weekend when he spent the night?”
“Let’s check his room.” Moving upstairs to the guest room designated for Dante, Adriana slowed as she passed her wedding pictures. Her fingers brushed her lips, and she wrapped her other arm around her stomach. We’d never discussed Dante. Anytime the conversation veered that way, she’d change the subject, or suddenly need a glass of wine, or to use the bathroom.
Giving her some privacy, I left her on the stairs and searched the room. Under the bed, I found a stack of books, and on the top was the little man’s favorite bedtime story.
“Found it!” Standing up, I joined Adriana in the doorway.
Her eyes were glassy, but a small smile pulled at her red lips. “Thanks, Sasha.”
As we made our way back downstairs, Adriana inhaled dramatically. “What smells so good?”