Rock Chick 08 Revolution (39 page)

“I… well, a little bit,” I admitted.

“You’re totally freaked,” he stated.

His family was in there with my family, and some of his family engaged
in criminal activities and my family was a cop family.

Not to mention, without warning, I was meeting his mother and sisters.

Of course I was freaked.

“Okay, maybe more than a little bit,” I allowed.

His eyes moved over my face in the waning sunlight, the air in the car
got heavy then, again with the scary whisper, “My woman doesn’t get freaked.”

Uh-oh.

“Ren—”

“Let’s go,” he clipped.

Before I could say another word, he let me go, turned to his door and
angled out.

I rushed to do the same thing. I barely got to the sidewalk before my
hand was seized and Ren half walked with me, half dragged me toward my
childhood home.

The dragging part had to do with the fact that I couldn’t keep up with
his pace. I had on a pair of high-heeled bronze sandals that were awesome and
went great with my new brown-washed jeans and kickass
Stevie-Nicks-meets-Olivia-Newton-John batwing dusty blue top shot with bronze
and silver that had a deep vee. But even the reminder that I had on great jeans,
shoes and a kickass rock ‘n’ roll top didn’t unfreak me (as it usually would
do).

We were at the base of the walk when the door opened and expelled Roxie
and Indy.

Roxie had her hands up, palms down, pressing the air and she was
calling out (but quietly), “Calm. Calm. It’s all going to be okay. We got out
the leaves for the dining room table.”

This did not make me feel better, and not just because Mom didn’t have
that many leaves.

Indy just lifted a hand and stated, “No worries. It’s under control.”

I couldn’t tell if Ren even looked at either one of them before he
hauled us through them.

As for me, I had just enough time to give them a wide-eyed,
warning-danger-is-imminent look they both totally understood before he tugged
at my arm, pulling me in front of him. He did this while reaching beyond me to
yank open the storm door, push open the front door then shove me in front of
him.

I took two steps in, Ren one, and we were faced with a tense family
room filled with people holding cocktails or bottles of beer; none of them, I
noticed on a quick scan, having a good time.

Except Vito looked like Vito always looked. Expansive and happy.

Shit.

The Montagues and Capulets were never congregated in anyone’s living
room. If they were, I had a feeling from the vibe in my parents’ house right
then,
Romeo and Juliet
would be a
much shorter play.

Crap.

“Malcolm and Kitty Sue,” Ren greeted my parents tersely with a chin
jerk, and then his eyes immediately went to Vito. “Vito, a word outside.”

“Son, we’re havin’ a drink,” Vito returned, lifting up what looked like
a Manhattan.

“A,” Ren started, his voice on that one syllable rumbling and another
chill ran over my skin, “
word.
”

Vito and Ren went into a staredown.

Indy and Roxie squeezed in through the limited space Ren left at the
door, but they didn’t move in much further, just because movement in that kind
of volatile environment could mean bad things.

I held my breath.

Surprisingly, Ren won the staredown when Vito turned to Mom and Dad and
said, “Mal, Kitty Sue, my nephew needs a word.”

Mal?

Oh God.

Dad’s lips got tight.

Oh
shit
.

Mom murmured, “Of course.”

Dad just looked between Ren and Vito and nodded.

Vito moved toward the door.

Ren moved us out of his way and looked at Dom. “You too.”

Dom, incidentally a man with looks that could make him Ren’s brother,
not cousin (except he had wave in his hair and his confidence had swagger), was
playing it smart for once. I knew this when he immediately made his way toward
the door.

They disappeared behind it.

Mom spoke. “Ally, honey, I had another pork tenderloin that I just
popped in the oven, and you know I always have backup Pillsbury crescent rolls.
It’s okay.”

Pillsbury crescent rolls could be served at peace talks to put the
negotiators in good moods. However, I was thinking their magic wouldn’t work
here.

I looked at Mom and told her, “He’s a hotheaded Italian American
badass. I think he needs to do what he needs to do.”

“He needs to do what he needs to do,” an attractive, petite, stylish
woman who was sitting on one of my mom and dad’s couches confirmed.

She rose.

I took in Ren’s mother, then his two sisters who had been flanking her
on the couch.

His sisters looked like female versions of Ren, long, lean and
attractive.

His mother had silver hair, lots of it, and it was fashioned in a
becoming style that curled in at her shoulders. She also had fabulous
cheekbones and exotic features that had not dimmed with age. Looking at her, it
came semi-clear why Ren’s dad didn’t share with this woman that he was what he
was. Because she was currently a knockout; erase thirty-five years, she would
be breathtaking. So even with just her looks, a man would do a lot to keep hold
of that.

But I knew she was much more than just beautiful. Therefore Ren’s dad likely
would do anything.

And he did.

She stopped in front of me and offered her hand. “You must be Ally.”

I took her hand and held it. “Yes. And you’re Mrs. Zano.”

“Amalea,” she corrected on a hand squeeze.

“Amalea,” I repeated on my own hand squeeze.

“As I told your mother,” she went on. “I was under the impression we
were invited.”

Vito.

Jeez.

“I’m really sorry for the misunderstanding,” I replied.

“No misunderstanding,” she returned, letting my hand go then finishing
on a sigh, “Just Vito.”

It was clear that there had been a lot of
Just Vito
times in her life.

I forced a smile.

I mean, what else could I do?

“We’ve met your lovely family.” She turned and held out a hand. “Meet
Lorenzo’s sisters. Giovanna and Concetta.”

At their mother’s unspoken command, both women were approaching me,
hands raised.

When I took her hand, the taller one muttered, “Jeannie.”

And when I took her hand, the one with the longer hair muttered,
“Connie.”

They were uncomfortable. Then again, it would be impossible not to be.

We all stepped back but stayed in a loose huddle as I felt Indy and
Roxie close to my back, and I tried to figure out a way to break the tension.
Alas, my usual ways to do something like that were things you didn’t do when
you first meet your man’s family.

I decided on, “It’s nice to finally meet you. Ren talks about you and
it’s all good.”

It was lame but at least it was polite.

“Then he’s lying,” Jeannie stated. “At least about Connie.”

I blinked.

Connie glared at her sister. “Hardly. If he’s lying, it’s about you.”

Holy crap.

“Connie works his nerves,” Jeannie told me.

“He actually disowned Jeannie once,” Connie told me.

“Pfft,” Jeannie made a noise with her mouth. “He was eight.”

“He wasn’t eight, and I can’t repeat what he said the last time you
crashed your car, called him and told him you’d forgotten to re-up your AAA
and
you needed a loan to get another
car,” Connie retorted then looked at me in order to share, “She crashes her car
a lot.”

“Is three times in three years a lot?” Jeannie asked me.

I thought it was, but luckily Connie saved me from replying by
snapping, “
Yes.
”

“Girls,” Amalea said quietly, and they both clamped their mouths shut.

Yowza.

Impressive.

And evidence was suggesting I’d like Ren’s sisters.

“While we wait for that situation outside to sort itself, I’ll get my
daughter a drink,” Dad announced, getting close and leaning in to give me a
kiss on the cheek. “Beer? Margarita? Something else?” he asked.

I did a quick scan and knew from what I saw that Mom had a pitcher
filled with margs, so I put in my order, biting back my real order, which was a
tequila shooter with a valium chaser.

Then I did the rounds, greeting everybody.

Lee and Hank also seemed pissed but holding it back.

Sissy whispered in my ear, “Sorry.”

“It’s cool,” I whispered back. “How’s the baby?” I asked.

“Light of my life,” she said on a big smile.

He would have to be for her to smile that big during this disaster.

Dad brought me a marg. I took a healthy slug, trying not to appear like
I was taking a healthy slug, and I was pleased when I was done and it seemed I
accomplished this feat.

The door opened and Ren, Dom and Vito walked through.

The minute Vito hit the family room, he looked at Dad and announced,
“Lorenzo just reminded me I have some business to see to tonight. Unfortunately,
Angela and I can’t stay for dinner.”

“Holy crap,” Indy breathed beside me.

I just stared.

Vito was not a man to back down.

This was a mini-miracle.

“I’ll need Dom with me, so he and Sissy will also be leaving,” Vito
went on.

I moved my stare to Ren, at this point wondering if I should contact
the Pope to report this miracle.

Ren was scowling at his uncle.

“You’re more than welcome to stay,” Mom said courteously.

“It’s urgent,” Ren bit out.

Mom shut her mouth and nodded.

Vito glowered at his nephew.

The room grew tenser.

Sissy made a move to her husband.

“Again, Vito, it’s urgent,” Ren said when Vito made no move.

Vito kept scowling at his nephew for a few beats before he rearranged
his face and looked at me in order to declare, “Just want to say before we go,
you with my boy Lorenzo, it’s a good thing. I’ve always liked you and I see a
happy future. Much love. Big family. And I know I speak for Amalea and Angela
as well when I say we’re extremely pleased you’re turnin’ Catholic.”

Oh shit.

The room went wired, and even just with my family, this was bad. Add a
bunch of Italian hotheads, this was
very
bad.

As for me, I avoided Mom and Dad’s eyes. It wasn’t like he was a deacon
and she led a Sunday school class, but they went to church on Sundays (mostly).
So me staying in the faith I was raised in was probably important to them.

Crap.

“Vito,” Ren gritted.

“What?” Vito asked him, fake innocently.

“What?” Ren asked back, not-fake sarcastically and turning fully to his
uncle. “You think maybe Ally wanted to discuss that with her family? And
furthermore, she’s not
turning
Catholic. She’s
considering
it. For
me. Which is what I told you outside. But either way, it was not up to you to
share it now since she hasn’t discussed it with her family.”

“Turning. Considering. Same thing,” Vito retorted.

“It isn’t,” Ren returned. “Reflecting and deciding are two different
things. And my woman is gonna do her reflecting with no pressure, say, like the
shit you just piled on her. And whatever she decides, she’ll have the backing
of this family.”

“If she decides Catholic,” Vito stated.

“If she decides Scientology,” Ren shot back, and I heard Roxie and
Connie giggle and Hank clear his throat to disguise a chuckle.

“I’m uncertain how the Pope feels about Scientology, Lorenzo,” Vito
replied.

“The Pope doesn’t make my woman breakfast,” Ren countered.

God.

Seriously.

Was my man awesome or what?

I pressed my lips together and felt Indy’s hand curl around my elbow,
her body getting close and it was shaking.

“How about we give this some time, see how things go,” Angela
suggested, moving toward her husband and bravely entering the fray.

“I know how it’s gonna go,” Vito stated, sliding his arm around his
wife’s waist.

“I do, too,” Ren returned immediately. “And if it doesn’t go the way
I
want it to go, the issues we already
got get bigger.”

Thus another staredown commenced, which lasted until Sissy began the
process of saying her farewells, adding more excuses about how she wanted to
get back to her baby and dragging Dom with her.