Bossy Silverfox : An Age Gap Single Dad Romance by Ruby Wilde

Author:Ruby Wilde [Wilde, Ruby]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-04-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Leo

Thanksgiving was a disaster. Anthony, Lars, and Vivian spent Thanksgiving with Vivian’s parents in the suburbs masquerading as a new Nordic Brady Bunch. I obviously wasn’t invited, Vivian told me as I was backing out of my driveway with a tinfoil tray full of arancini from Joey’s deli.

Rather than succumb to a blackout road rage, I decided to take food over to my mom’s place and check on her. While she still refused to move into assisted living, she recently caved and allowed me to send over a home health aide every weekday, to help with laundry, cleaning, and whatever tasks she might need. But I knew that they wouldn’t be working on Thanksgiving. When I arrived at her Brownstone, arancini in hand, she was less than enthused to see me.

“What the hell are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be with Vivian and Anthony?” she quipped. She wore a mint green house dress and fluffy slippers.

“I wasn’t invited,” I explained.

“What the hell do you mean? You’re Anthony’s father, aren’t you? Come in,” she grumbled. I tried to help her up the winding stairs to her apartment, but she elbowed me in the ribs and insisted that she could do it herself.

Her apartment was looking better. The living room rug had been vacuumed; someone had fluffed the throw pillows on the couch. When I popped the tray of arancini into the oven, I noticed that the counters were clean, free of the sauce stains and crumbs that my mother could no longer see.

I peeked in the refrigerator, fresh produce and eggs neatly lined the shelves. There was a Tupperware container full of pasta with instructions for reheating written on a large post-it note. She seemed to be doing okay. I was incredibly relieved. Carlotta Cacciatore was stubborn to a fault, and her obstinate attitude had only strengthened even as her body had started to fail her. I would never admit this, but up until the intervention of the home health aides, I found myself unable to stay at her apartment for longer than an hour. It was downright depressing to see her living in squalor, unable to read her beloved T.V. guide or hear her soaps unless she cranked up her hearing aid to the highest setting.

“Your apartment looks nice,” I said.

“What’s that supposed to mean? It looked like shit before?”

“No, I mean, I’m glad the Bluestar Care girls are helping.”

“They’re uppity bitches is what they are,” she grumbled, sitting down on her couch with a great harrumph.

“Ma, don’t be like that. They’re trying to help.”

“I’ll admit, they do some nice things. One of the gals found a large-print T.V. guide for me.” She handed me a large, water-logged T.V. guide.

“See, that’s nice. I put the arancini that I bought in the oven. It should be ready in twenty minutes. I brought you some more soppressata too. My friend Joey makes it.”

“The extra hot kind that I like?”

“Yeah. Do you want me to make you anything else? I’m sorry I don’t have turkey.

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