“Isn’t it cool?” Angie grinned as she held the new black device up for inspection, tilting it this way and that, letting the light from the dining room glint off the buttons. It was smaller than a brick, and not nearly as thick or heavy, but it was solid and almost sleek. “Now you can get ahold of me any time you want, Mama.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” Alice said with a half-grin, and Angie either missed or ignored the touch of sarcasm in her tone, Jillian wasn’t sure which.
Jillian laughed as she lifted a forkful of pasta to her lips. “Please. I’ve had to hear all about this cellular phone since yesterday. Nonstop. It’s only fair that you share in my torture.”
“I’ve had my cell for a year,” Dominick piped in as he refilled Angie’s wine glass, then his own.
“Yeah, well, we’re not all fancy-schmancy lawyers, are we? Besides, you’re older than me,” Angie stated, and Jillian could almost visualize the two of them as kids, battling over some toy. “I got mine younger than you.”
“Why do you need one of those things?” Joe asked.
“Because I’m important, Pop.” Angie winked at him. “So my customers can reach me. I’m out of the office a lot.”
“Isn’t that what voicemail is for?”
“That’s what I said,” Jillian agreed, pointing at Joe with her fork. “Now she can never get away from those customers.”
“I have hours,” Angie told them, obviously defending her new gadget. “It’s not like they’ll be calling me at night or on weekends.”
Jillian raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing. Angie was doing really well at work, and the truth was, the cell phone did make sense. Now if she was held up someplace or caught in traffic, she could reach Jillian and tell her. And the look on her face when she brought it home—she was like a child with a new bike. No way did Jillian want to extinguish that light. Angie was proud of herself, deservedly so, and Jillian was proud of her, too.
Jillian loved Sunday dinners with Angie’s family. They were so warm, open-armed, and open-hearted, utterly different than dinners with her own parents. At her mother’s house, she was tense, always on guard, careful not only of what she said, but of the subjects on which she spoke, avoiding such hot-button issues as politics and religion. Here, she felt welcome. More than welcome, part of the family. Alice Righetti always greeted her with a heartfelt hug and a kiss on the cheek. Joe Righetti teased her just as mercilessly as he did his own kids. She felt a tenderness and a comfort with the Righettis that she’d never felt in her own house. Her mother had never made her feel safe enough to fully be herself, but with the Righettis, she never felt the need to hide anything, to fake anything. With the Righettis, she was who she was, and that was good enough for them.
Jillian watched the family now as if removed, as if she wasn’t in the room. Angie brushed a hank of dark hair out of her eyes and leaned toward her brother Tony, pointing out different features of her new phone. Tony was the wild card of the bunch with his questionable friends, vague employment, and history of drug use—Jillian was reasonably sure he was high now, judging by the redness of his eyes—but today was a good day, and there was no tension between him and Joe, as there was on bad days. Instead, Joe tipped his head nearer to Angie’s younger sister, Maria, as they debated the best method of mixing the ingredients for meatballs—wooden spoon or bare hands. Maria looked nothing like Angie, nothing like Joe. Instead, she was the spitting image of her mother, all light brown hair, green eyes, and pale skin. Jillian flashed to her own brother’s face, so very much like hers, people thought they were twins. Dominick sat at the opposite end of the table from his father and chewed thoughtfully, watching his family. He caught Jillian’s eye and shot her a wink. As he did, his cell phone rang on his hip. Without looking at the screen, he answered it, then rolled his eyes as his sister dissolved into giggles, her phone pressed to her ear.
“You’re ridiculous, Andi,” he said, but he chuckled anyway.
This is my family.
The thought hit Jillian’s mind loud and clear, and it warmed her from her heart out. She laid a hand on Angie’s thigh and squeezed. Angie was still laughing and joking with her brothers, but put her hand on top of Jillian’s and squeezed back. Across the table, Alice met Jillian’s gaze and smiled. Jillian scooped more pasta into her mouth, and felt completely, utterly content.
This is my family.