“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.
Vito and Angela were forced to do the same. We all did cheek kisses, gave awkward hugs, and said see you laters. Ren, clearly wanting to make sure Vito followed his directives, followed them out the door.
Roxie, Indy and me ran to the window.
On the other side, we were joined by Mom, Amalea, Connie and Jeannie.
We watched Ren prowl down the walk behind Dom, Sissy, Vito and Angela, and then we watched Dom stand close as Vito gesticulated wildly. Ren stood there with a hard jaw, a closed mouth and arms crossed on his chest. I didn’t know what all the girls were thinking.
Personally, I was thinking my man was hot.
“Indy, come away from the window,” Lee ordered, and I looked away just long enough to see Indy wave at him to shut up, but she said nothing and did not move.
“Kitty Sue, the man doesn’t need an audience,” Dad called.
I didn’t look at Mom, but she didn’t say anything. She also didn’t move.
“Jesus,” Hank muttered.
“Fine to say that, but don’t take L. Ron Hubbard’s name in vain,” Lee muttered back.
All the women giggled.
Then we all dashed away from the window as Vito climbed into his Caddy. Dom took off toward the Acadia and Ren turned to come up the walk.
I sucked back more margarita and didn’t bother trying not to look like I was sucking it back this time.
Ren came through the door.
Before I could make a move to get to him, Dad did.
I knew my Dad. I (mostly) knew Ren. However, I had no clue what was about to happen.
But if you’d asked me to guess, what happened would be so far down on the list, it wouldn’t even make the list.
And what happened was that Dad lifted his hand, Ren took it, and Dad announced, “Welcome to the family.”
Indy grabbed my hand. Roxie put hers to my back.
As for me.
I melted.
*
The women (all of us, including Ren’s mom and sisters) were in the kitchen doing the dishes.
After the Vito fiasco and Dad welcoming Ren into the family, things went a whole lot better. It became clear very quickly that Ren didn’t blink at much of my or the Rock Chicks behavior because his sisters might not be as nutty as us, but they weren’t far behind. It also became clear Ren got his class from his mother because she was brimming with it.
Conversation, understandably, started stilted, and also understandably got less so as time went on and drinks were consumed.
So dinner wasn’t a disaster and now we were cleaning up.
Or, I should say, the women were.
“Can I ask why it’s always the women in the kitchen doing the dishes after, I’ll add, it was the women in the kitchen doing the cooking?” I queried.
“Have you seen your brother let loose in a kitchen?” Indy asked, drying a platter.
“Not recently,” I answered.
“It’s not pretty,” she returned. “He doesn’t even rinse his dishes before he puts them in the dishwasher. I’ve given up and told him just to put them in the sink.”
“You do know he does that so you would do that. In other words, he does a crap job so he won’t have to do the job at all. Or, in your case, anything,” I educated her. “He did that when he was at home, too.”
“This is true,” Mom, at the sink, muttered to Amalea.
“Well, it was a smart move because he doesn’t have to do anything,” Indy replied. “And it takes longer to complain about it than it does just to rinse his bowl and put it in the dishwasher.”
“Caving,” I stated.
“You’ll see,” she retorted.
“No I won’t,” I told her. “Ren cooks and does the dishes and he does both well.” I looked to Amalea. “Thanks for that, by the way.”