the one who said it,” Rita pointed out, finishing off the rest of her cookie.
Anthony countered, “He only said it because that’s how men think women think.”
“What?” Gina asked, clearly as confused as Rita. “That must be more male logic because it makes no sense.”
“It does to men,” Anthony argued before picking up the tray to head out front.
Rita propped her elbows on the counter and propped her head in her hands. A circus, she thought. It was a circus at Marchetti’s.
“Go on, back to work,” Teresa ordered, waving at her son to hurry him along. When it was just the three women in the kitchen again, Teresa sat down on a stool opposite Rita. “Don’t think about what he said or what he did or even what your family thinks about all of this. There’s just one thing to consider, Rita.” She paused, shot her other daughter a don’t-open-your-mouth look and asked Rita, “Do you love him?”
“Of course I love him, Mom. That’s not the point.”
“It’s the only point,” her mother said.
Gina kept quiet for as long as she could, then blurted out, “For God’s sake, Rita, all men are impossible to deal with—”
“We can hear you!” their father shouted from the front.
Rita chuckled and shook her head. The heck with peace and quiet. This is just what she had needed.
“Am I wrong?” Gina shouted to her father. Then turning back to her mother and sister, she demanded, “See? Brothers, fathers, husbands, sons, they’re all crazy. But giving up is never the answer, Rita. You have to dig in and fight back. Never give an inch.”
“Your sister’s right.” Teresa nodded.
“It’s a miracle!” Gina looked up at the ceiling to Heaven beyond and got a dark look from Teresa for her trouble.
Then, ignoring one daughter, Teresa reached out and took both of Rita’s hands in hers. “I’m ashamed that you didn’t fight for what you want, for what you need. Rita, we didn’t raise you to walk away.”
Her heart gave a sharp tug at the realization that that’s exactly what she had done. In her own hurt and grief, she’d tucked tail and run away. But how could she not have?
“So I’m supposed to stay with a man who doesn’t want me there?”
Gina opened her mouth and shut it again when her mother held up one hand.
“He does want you there. He told you so,” Teresa said. “He wants you to leave before he loves you? What kind of statement is that? He already loves you and it scares him.”
Rita laughed shortly and shook her head, denying the possibility. “Nothing scares Jack.”
Although, the minute those words left her mouth she remembered Jack saying “You terrify me.” Maybe her mother was on to something.
“Oh, honey,” her mother said, “nothing scares a man more than love when it finally shows up.” She gave Rita’s hands a pat, then picked up a cookie and took a bite. “It’s especially difficult for a strong man, because being out of control is a hard thing to accept.”
“Jimmy wasn’t scared,” Gina muttered.
“Sure he was,” her mother said on a laugh. “You just didn’t give him time to think about it.”
Shrugging, Gina admitted with a grin, “Okay, fair point.”
“And your brothers?” Teresa laughed. “They were terrified.”
“We can still hear you,” Marco yelled.
Ignoring her son, Teresa looked at Rita. “Even your dad fought tooth and nail to keep from loving me.”
“As if I stood a chance at that,” Nick called out.
“Why do we have a door,” Teresa wondered, “when everyone hears everything anyway?” Shaking her head again, she continued, “What I’m saying is, everything worth having, is worth fighting for.”
Rita just didn’t know. She’d left the penthouse in a rush, hurt beyond belief, angry beyond anything she’d ever experienced before. Heart aching, she’d had only one thought. Come home. To the family that was always there for her.
“So what’re you going to do?” Gina spread a cinnamon-and-sugar mixture on the rectangle of dough then carefully rolled it up for slicing and baking. “You going to stay here? Or go back and reclaim your life?”
Well, that was the question, wasn’t it? Being here with her family, she was starting to think and as she did, she was embarrassed to admit that running away from her problems, from the man she loved, just didn’t feel right. She’d pulled back from him and hid away—the very thing she’d accused Jack of doing.
“Why should I leave?” she murmured, hardly realizing she was speaking aloud.
“Exactly,” Gina agreed, slicing cookies and laying them on sheets to bake.
“I have a business there. And a home—okay, not the penthouse, but I was happy there and I can be again.” Rita ate another cookie while her brain raced and the pain in her heart began to ease.
“Sure you can,” her mother said.
“Jack doesn’t make decisions for me.”
“’Course not,” Gina agreed.
“He doesn’t get to tell me when to go. When to stay. Sit. Heel.”
“That’s my girl,” Teresa cheered.
“Why should I make this easy on Jack?” Rita demanded of no one in particular.
“You never made it easy on any of us,” Marco quipped when he brought an empty tray into the kitchen.
“Oh, please,” Gina sneered. “And you were the angel child? Do you remember shaving my Barbie dolls bald?”
“A fond memory,” Marco assured her, dodging when she took a swing at him.
“I’m going back,” Rita announced. “And I’m going to look Jack in the eye and tell him that he can’t dictate my life.”
“I feel like I should have pom-poms,” Gina murmured.
“He’s not chasing me away,” Rita proclaimed, scooting off the stool to stand on her own two feet. “I’m going back. I’m going to tell him he’s in love with me and when he’s done being scared of it, he can come and find me. I’m building a life there and I’m not giving it up.”
“Good for you.” Her father came into the kitchen and gave her a quick hug before grabbing another cookie. “But you can stay for a couple of days, right? Have a nice visit before you go back?”
“I sure
