Ella and Pammy were still hanging out in Mama’s cozy kitchen, but only because the nonnas were arguing about one of the Real Housewives in the living room—in Italian—and it was getting heated. Ella didn’t want Pammy to have to walk into that.
“I want to make it here,” Pammy was saying. “And Hank’s always been so supportive. He flew me out to New York three or four times the last couple of years, and we had a lot of fun. He encouraged me to see more of the world, and let the world see me and all my talent.”
Aww, that was very sweet.
And Ella didn’t want to hear it.
She didn’t want to fall in love all over again, with a guy who wasn’t even there, a guy who’d walked away from her a full decade ago and had made no attempt to win her back. But inside, she was feeling all melty and daydreamy thinking about him. Her body was betraying her! She needed a date with a nice man from Charleston. One who wore khakis with little whales embroidered all over them, and a bow tie. Maybe a shy doctor who wore glasses. Not some random A-list celebrity with rangy good looks and a style that came off as sexy and outdoorsy and yet also museumy, as in “I can go to museums and like them, and hold your hand while we look at old paintings, then take you home and strip you naked.”
That was Hank’s look.
But Ella wasn’t going to be anyone’s doormat ever again. She always used to say she was Hank’s cheerleader, but that was a delusion. She let herself believe love was a good reason to give up her dreams for someone else, but it wasn’t.
And she wasn’t blaming Hank. It had been her decision.
She pushed off the counter. “So, are you ready to come meet the nonnas?” They had quieted down again.
“Sure.” Pammy made a face. “Old people scare me, kind of. They’re way too honest. And whoever is out there was yelling pretty loud. Are you sure they’re all right?”
Ella laughed. “Fighting keeps the nonnas young. And as for honesty, consider it part of the perks of being old. What are you afraid they’ll be too honest about?”
“All their health problems,” Pammy said. “Bodily functions are awesome, but hey—I can only take so much. And then they might say stuff about how I look.”
“My nonnas are cool,” Ella assured her. “They don’t talk much about their health problems because they’re in excellent shape. And they’re too kind to comment on people’s appearance, unless they want to compliment you. Then they’ll say something nice. Here”—she grabbed a full-sized apron—“why don’t you put this on so they don’t have to read your shirt.”
“Fine,” Pammy said.
And it was fine. Pammy ate almost all the antipasti. And she got the nonnas to watch the Seahawks play the Eagles. They’d never watched American football. During a commercial, Pammy showed the nonnas how the fireplace needed some work.
“See?” She had her own pocket level and she’d propped it on the mantel. “It’s off. You gotta do something about it.”
“Like what?” said Nonna Boo.
“Like straightening it out,” said Pammy, and rolled her eyes.
The nonnas weren’t fazed at all. “A little crooked is good for the soul,” Nonna Boo said.
“That’s right,” said Nonna Sofia. “Who wants perfection, eh?”
And they both laughed.
Pammy put her level back in her pocket. “I gotta go,” she said.
“You go,” said Nonna Boo serenely. “But you come back here every Sunday you’re free and have supper with the family at six o’clock. I know we’re boring old ladies, but you need some family while you’re here. Maybe you can bring your cousin Hank around. Call him and tell him he made a big mistake with Ella.”
Pammy’s eyes popped. “Uh, Hank doesn’t live here. And that’s their business. Right?”
“Right,” said Ella. “Don’t listen to them, Pammy.”
“You do what you want,” said Nonna Sofia. “But we nonnas are only looking out for everyone’s best interests. Yours too, Pammy. Be ready for some nosy questions about your love life.”
“Yeah, well”—Pammy sounded doubtful—“it doesn’t exist. But I guess I’ll come back.” She tossed them a grin.
“Look at that smile,” said Nonna Boo. “It lights up the room. By the way, Ella, we need to put two more Sicilian cousins in your apartment.”
The nonnas always tried to squeeze outrageous demands into otherwise ordinary sentences, as if no one would notice.
“But Nonna Boo,” Ella said patiently, “I’m already taking two.”
“Two more,” said Nonna Boo. “Cousin Julio and his wife Dorotea. Julio says Dorotea is very, very picky. She needs a nice queen-sized bed. No doubles. No kings. A queen. She needs him close enough to knock him when he snores, but not too close that he gets the wrong idea. She’s too old for that kind of nonsense, she told Nonna Sofia. Once she hit eighty, she was done.”
“Dorotea’s done,” Nonna Sofia said. “No more bedroom nonsense.”
Ella didn’t know what to say. “But where will I go? The sofa is so uncomfortable. It’s got a spring jutting up in the middle. I need a new one.”
“Yes, they want you out,” said Nonna Boo. “Five people sharing one bathroom is too much, they say.”
“I-I guess I could go to Miss Thing’s,” Ella said. “Or Macy’s, or Greer’s.”
She hated to go to Macy’s or Greer’s and interrupt their honeymoon periods for an entire week.
“No one else in the family can take you in,” said Nonna Boo. “We’re all chock-full of Sicilian relatives.”
“But we know you have lots of friends,” said Nonna Sofia.
Ella looked at Pammy, embarrassed. “I have friends, but it’s such an imposition staying a week.…” She shrugged. “I’ll work it out.” She would have to buy earplugs so she didn’t hear Miss Thing’s guinea pig. And then work around all the paint cloths that would be lying on the floors. Wet paint drying overnight wasn’t exactly going to be great for her sinuses either.
“You can stay with me,” said Pammy. “I’ve got plenty of room at the carriage house.”
“Really?” Ella said. “You wouldn’t mind? I wouldn’t have to show up until tomorrow morning with my suitcase, and then I’ll head to work. But it’ll be a whole week. Are you sure?”
“It’ll be great,” said Pammy. “I’ll get the spare room ready, and I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
They exchanged phone numbers.
The nonnas exclaimed over Pammy’s generosity and said she’d grow to love their granddaughter Ella—who wasn’t the best cook in the family yet but someday might be if she tried a little harder.
“The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” said Nonna Sofia. “Just ask Ella’s sister Jill.”
It was true that Jill’s carbonara played an instrumental role in capturing Cosmo’s attention when they first met. “But we each have our own strengths,” said Ella. “And I don’t need a man to be happy, Nonnas. You have to join the twenty-first century.”
“We know you don’t,” said Nonna Sofia. “But a good one is nice to have around.”
“That’s right,” said Nonna Boo. “Especially a good one who knows his way around the bedroom.”
“And takes out the garbage,” said Nonna Sofia.
“Nonnas,” protested Ella. “You can’t talk like that.”
“We just did,” said Nonna Boo.
And they both laughed.
Ella gave them both a kiss and a hug. She was doing great as a single woman. She didn’t need a man to feel good about herself. But she had to be honest: living with Hank’s cousin Pammy for a week was going to be slightly rough. She’d put the past behind her, but she hoped she didn’t have to hear Pammy talking to him on the phone—and God forbid Pammy FaceTime him with Ella in the room.
And then she remembered: she never called Hank about that favor he wanted, which was obviously for her to contact Pammy. She wouldn’t bother. Pammy would tell him. No way did Ella want to talk to her old lover on the phone.
She’d moved on, no matter how her body and soul had reacted when she’d received those flowers. When she’d realized they were from Hank, it was as if her world was starting anew. As if none of the past ten years had changed the simple fact that she still loved him.