Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Though I worried a bit that she wanted a job like that in the first place.
“I just… have you ever wondered if it is healthy that you want this job so much?”
“Would you ask my brothers that question?” Calla shot back, dark brows raised.
“That’s not what I meant. I do understand you wanting to be a part of the Family, but I don’t understand an actual desire to do this particular job, baby. I mean your father did it because it was needed and he was good at it, not because he particularly wanted to do that job. I worry about your outlook on mankind.”
“Mom, have you met mankind lately?” she asked, shaking her head. “The man part, in particular, of mankind? And these aren’t even the so-called ‘good’ guys. These are all verified bad dudes. Who have done bad things. Who are threatening our Family. I could do something about that. I could keep everyone safer.”
“But at a lot of risk to you,” Massimo said, coming in behind her, and I didn’t miss the deep exhale our girl let out, knowing she was now going to be outnumbered in her argument.
“Dad, please. You’re still standing. Mike is still standing. What risk? The job is usually from far away. Besides, you wouldn’t say this to my brothers. This is a ridiculous, sexist organization where the men do all the dangerous stuff, and the women are supposed to make pasta and play with babies. I can’t wait for the power shift,” she added, storming out the back door.
“You know… if Luca’s son takes over, there is a good chance she will be allowed to do the job,” I said, looking over at Massimo.
There was some distinguishing gray in his hair now, a couple of smile lines on his face. I found I loved the changes. The evidence of our happy years together.
“Oh, baby, she’s going to have my old job one day,” Massimo said, coming around the counter toward me. “It’s just my job as an old-timer to give her as much shit as possible about it first. It’s a right of passage.”
“I don’t like that she’s going to have your old job,” I told him as his arms went around me.
“I know.”
“I’m a little worried that I am almost equally upset that she has such an aversion to making pasta,” I added, getting a laugh out of Massimo.
I worried, at times, that the kids didn’t see me as anyone but a meal maker and a errand runner.
But over the years after moving in with Massimo, I discovered that there just… wasn’t some grander plan for me. I didn’t have any outside-of-the-house passions.
I was passionate about my kids, about my husband, about our family.
So I never did go out and open a business or go back to school.
I was just… Mom.
And I was upset that my only daughter maybe didn’t think that was enough of something to be.
“Hey, she likes making pasta,” Massimo said, giving me a squeeze. “She’s always right there in the thick of it when you are cooking.
“She just wants some adventure. And, whether you’d signed up for it or not, you had your adventure back when you were her age,” he reminded me. “All that crazy was what made you appreciate the simpler things in life. She needs the chance to come to those conclusions too.”
That was a pretty fair argument, I guess.
“I’m going to worry about her all the time.”
“Baby, you do that already now,” he told me, giving me a warm smile that never failed to melt my heart a bit, even after all this time.
“That’s true,” I agreed.
“It’s good, though, isn’t it?” he asked. “Says we created something worth worrying about.”
He was right.
It was good.
It was everything I never could have seen coming.
And everything I had ever wanted.
“Yeah,” I agreed, resting my head on his chest. “It’s good.”