A Family Affair: The Weddings: A Novella (Truth in Lies Book 11) by Campisi Mary

Author:Campisi, Mary [Campisi, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781942158233
Publisher: Mary Campisi Books, LLC
Published: 2016-11-15T05:00:00+00:00

5

The doorbell jerked Anthony awake. Who was it this time? Miriam Desantro with a batch of chocolate chip cookies or Mimi Pendergrass with a pot of chicken soup? Pop’s house was a steady stream of visits, phone calls, special deliveries of homemade meals and sweets. Anthony made his way to the front door, half-hoping for chocolate chip cookies, but the young man standing on the doorstep was empty-handed. Jeremy Ross Dean. Lucy’s friend. Not a bad-looking kid, all arms and legs and a flattop. This was the guy Pop said hung around Lucy. She’d told him a few months ago that she and this Jeremy were “together.” Whatever that meant. How was a person over thirty-five supposed to understand young people’s dating and relationship definitions? You could sleep with a person but you weren’t dating, or you might be dating but you weren’t “in a relationship”? Was that what she’d told him? And he wasn’t supposed to use the term hook up as in “We’ll hook up later and go to the ball game” because that meant sex. He thought. Hell, he didn’t know what it meant.

“Hi, Mr. Benito, I’m Jeremy Ross Dean.” He thrust out a hand. “I don’t know if you remember me or not, but we met last Christmas.”

Anthony shook the boy’s hand and stepped aside to let him in. “I remember you. You’re Lucy’s friend.”

Jeremy turned three shades of red and stammered, “Yes, sir.”

Nervous kid. “Lucy’s not here right now.”

“Yes, sir. I know. She and Pop took Teresina to get pictures with Santa.”

“I see.”

The red shifted to maroon as Jeremy Ross Dean licked his lips, cleared his throat, and sputtered, “Teresina was very excited about it. She wore her candy cane dress.”

“Huh.” Anthony narrowed his gaze on him, intrigued that the kid could be so nervous around a man who’d never intimidated anyone. “Come on in, take off your jacket, and for the love of God, stop with the sir business.”

“Yes, sir.” More sputtering, more blushing. “I mean, yes.”

“You can call me Anthony.” He led the boy into the living room, pointed to one of chairs near the portrait of his mother. “Sit down. Can I get you something to drink? Water? Tea? A beer?”

“No, thank you, sir…Anthony.” Jeremy tried for a smile but it flopped. “I’m fine.”

Anthony sank into his father’s chair, settled his hands on the armrest. It was kind of nice to be in the power seat and have others visit with requests for favors or help settling problems. The old man had organized and orchestrated the goings-on of the town from this very chair for years. What would it feel like to be honored and revered? Depended upon…your counsel sought? Your blessing requested? His chest swelled with what felt an awful lot like hope. Anthony turned to Jeremy Ross Dean and said, “What can I do for you?”

“Lucy said I should talk to you.” He clasped his hands on his knees, knuckles white. “She said it was the right thing to do.”

“Okay.” Anthony waited, rubbed his jaw.

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