Any Way You Fight It Read online

  "Don't be silly. That boy loves you. I know."

  "A vision."

  She shook her head at me as if I was a total moron. She was probably right. "No, silly, I saw the way he looked at you then and now."

  "What do you mean then and now?"

  "When you were kids, he had it bad for you."

  "Why do you think that?"

  "I watched him, watching you."

  I wondered what else she knew but I thought I'd steer her back to the present. “Well, I don't know about any of that, but right now, we're just friends.'

  "Feel free to lie to yourself but don't insult me by lying to me. You both have it bad. You should be together."

  I stood to go. I had an open house to get to. "I'm not insulting you, Nona. The truth is we both have homes and jobs and families, some things are not so simple."

  "Maybe some people just make things extra complicated."

  She could be right about that. It felt complicated to me.

  #

  I looked up from my desk on Thursday afternoon when I heard the bell over the door tinkle. There was Luke. White shirt, jeans, and a sexy smile. Goddammit, he was too attractive for my own good.

  "Surprise!" He was holding a large bunch of pink and white overblown roses.

  "I'll say, and a very good one." I got up from behind my desk and crossed the floor. He met me halfway. I really needed to wrap my arms around him but I didn't want to squash the roses. Such a dilemma. "They're beautiful."

  "Like you." He smiled. He reached around me so the roses were behind my back and claimed my mouth with his. Delicious. I knew I'd been missing Luke but until now I hadn't realized how much. I ran my hands down his back and under his shirt. I needed skin on skin contact, and I needed it now. It was a pity my storefront was largely glass because the idea of taking him on the sofa or the desk was hugely appealing.

  He broke our kiss. "I missed you."

  "Me, too."

  He brought the roses back to my front. "So," I asked, "What brings you back to town?"

  "You do silly."

  "No work?"

  "Oh yeah, I fabricated some work as well, but you know I could have Skyped that or emailed. You're my real reason for being here."

  My whole body was flushed with excitement and I felt whole for the first time in a week. I could breathe.

  "I'm glad you came. You could have let me know, though."

  "I wasn't sure I could leave today until this morning. Then I just went straight to the airport and hopped the first flight. No time to waste. I'm here till Monday."

  Four days. I'd take four days. It wasn't exactly a long-term commitment but it was the longest we'd ever been together.

  "That's great. I have some stuff I'm going to have to attend to, of course, but we can work with that."

  "I think that's what people do, you know, have lives and sex lives."

  "Is that what we're calling it?"

  "I don't know what we're calling it. Are you still telling people we're just friends?"

  I shrugged. "I'm not sure they're buying what I'm selling, but yes because otherwise my mother is going to be asking you a lot of questions that will be awkward and embarrassing. I figure we should get a chance to reacquaint ourselves before the woman picks out our children's names."

  "She wouldn't start with the wedding dress?" he quipped.

  "She already chose that about ten years ago. It's very white and there's an incredible amount of lace."

  He blinked like he was trying to work out if I was telling the truth or not. I was but we'd let him believe otherwise if it helped.

  "Okay, so do you have plans tonight?" he asked.

  "I do now." And I leaned in for another smoldering kiss. If the roses got a little bit squashed, it wasn't the end of the world.

  #

  Luke might not like fancy hotels but as I lay in the huge bath tub, with bubbles up to my chin, sipping champagne, and looking out at an expansive view of the city skyline, I really thought he was wrong.

  "Yeah, well, it's not usually like this when I'm here alone." He was at the other end of the tub grinning at me. "This is way more fun."

  "You mean I'm more fun than lying in bed reading Tolstoy? You really know how to flatter a girl!"

  "I do love Russian literature, but I'm not sure anyone ever called Tolstoy for a good time."

  "Or poor Anna Karenina, I don't think her phone rang hot."

  He chuckled. "What do you like to read?"

  "You mean besides the real estate pages?" I sipped some champagne and let the bubbles dance across my tongue while the bubbles of the bath popped around me. "You know, I like a nice family saga, you'd think I wouldn't but I can relate I guess, and a nice romantic comedy. They give me hope."

  "You don't need hope now, you have me." It was a simple statement but it spoke volumes. Did I have Luke? I had him for the next four days, but what else? I couldn't see this working.

  I smiled at him. I didn't want to ruin the moment by asking questions. "Yeah, well, I'd still rather read my books than the ones you read."

  "Duly noted. I get it. I love a good mystery for a fun read. So, what would you have been doing tonight, if I hadn't shown up? Apart from longing for me."

  I splashed water at him. "Modest much? I would have gone shopping. I need a gift for a party on Sunday."

  "Shopping. This is more fun than shopping, right?"

  "Tough call." It wasn't, of course, and he knew it.

  "And where does your Nona think you are? I mean, do you have to go home?"

  "It's not like that."

  "But you didn't want to take me there?" His brow furrowed.

  "Taking you there would have said, 'Look, I have a boyfriend.' Right now I could be anywhere, at Aaron's, with friends."

  "So as it was, so shall it be, she wants to keep me a secret." He sighed.

  "You're not a secret. Aaron, Piper, Chase, and Lucy all know, and Nona knows about you, just not about this. She is my very Catholic Nona."

  "Does she think you're a virgin?" he asked.

  "I'm hoping my Nona doesn't spend much time pondering my sex life, to be perfectly honest. Anyway, it's not like you're dragging me to California to meet your folks." That was true enough.

  "Would you go?"

  I shrugged. "Depends."

  "On what?"

  "Lots of things."

  "Tell me one."

  "Where we stayed."

  Chapter 18

  Luke was sitting at my Nona's kitchen table watching her make pasta. He was clearly fascinated by the process. He had already watched her mix the dough by hand and roll it out carefully. Now she was threading it through the pasta maker, the traditional old metal kind, not the fancy electric sort.

  Her dough was now thin enough for her to cut it into shapes. She was making agnolotti because it was my cousin's favorite and the shower was for her. It wasn't Nona's favorite, I knew that. In fact, given the chance, she would eat gnocchi. She loved those puffy little balls of potato and flour. Everyone in my family had a favorite, and we all knew if we asked in just the right way Nona would make it for us.

  "Which pasta do you like best, Luke? Fettuccini, spaghetti, ravioli? You tell me and I make your favorite."

  "You don't have to make me pasta, but that's very kind of you."

  "Tell me. I can tell a lot about someone by the pasta they like." This wasn't good. Luke's eyes met mine.

  "How so?"

  She leaned in for a conspiratorial whisper, “You know Aaron's father, the crook, he like squid ink tagliatelli. Squid ink is black like his heart."

  "Nona."

  "The pasta doesn't lie."

  "What's your pick, Cherie?" Luke asked me.

  "My girl is sweet and simple. She likes the angel hair, and preferably with meatballs."

  "What can I say? You can't improve on perfection."

  "Well, I do like spaghetti and meatballs, but if I had to pick one meal for the rest of my life, I'd choose lasagna."<
br />
  Nona gave a nod as if to say she knew that. "My late husband, Mario, he was a lasagna man."

  Luke looked ridiculously pleased with himself. If this was a test, he'd passed. Maybe it had been a test, even I didn't know sometimes with my grandmother. "Excellent."

  "Next time you visit, I make you lasagna."

  "Her lasagna is amazing." That was good news. One taste of that and he'd be sure to return; he may of course dump me for my grandmother, but I would still get to see his perfect face again.

  "Why are you making this now and not tomorrow, Nona?" It was only Friday. She would usually make it Saturday for Sunday.

  "Can you keep a secret?" Her voice dropped low like there might be someone other than us three in her home.

  "I can say with some confidence that we can." I assured her.

  Her eyes darted around once more. "I have a date with the tailor; he's taking me to Cape Cod for the day."

  This was big news; a whole day was different than bingo or a casserole. "Good for you."

  "I feel like a girl again." She giggled.

  I expected she did. The truth was my grandparents' marriage had been arranged. They had of course loved each other very much, but it wasn't a love match at first. She had been in love with a boy from another village, the wrong boy, of course, before she met my Poppa.

  "It's nice to feel that way," I said.

  "It is but your parents would have a fit! Your mother would anyway. She thinks I'm so old. She better watch out, she'll be like me soon and then she'll know just because someone is wrinkled or bent or not so skinny, it doesn't mean they don't know love."

  "Of course not." I really didn't like being in the middle. "I think she just worries. It's her way of showing she cares."

  "I know." She let out a sigh. "Sometimes I wish she cared a little less."

  "Me, too," I said. Of course, at that moment, the phone rang and you know who was on the other line. Maybe Nona was right to be paranoid. The place might be bugged. My mother's family had some loose mafia connections, who knew?

  "Yes, yes, she and Luke are here. I don't know. Making pasta. I can't answer that. She's a grown woman." Luke and I just looked at each other during the phone call. "Monday or maybe Sunday. In a hotel. Here I think. Leave her alone."

  Then she thrust the phone at me. "Talk to your mother."

  My mother was not happy that Luke and I were making pasta with Nona and not over visiting her. "I'm your mother."

  "I'm well aware."

  "We just stopped in to say hi, and she's making pasta so we're helping." Helping was always good. It meant I was a good daughter, or at least a good grand-daughter.

  The truth was my mother missed me. I knew that, but she was kind of smothering and so I steered clear and it made it worse. "You'll see me Sunday for the shower."

  "But I won't see Luke. Come to brunch Sunday morning."

  "We're Italian, Ma, we don't do brunch"

  "Well, if you're going to date out of the family, we're going to have to adapt."

  I shook my head. "We're not . . ."

  "Don't tell me you're not dating. He's making pasta with your grandmother. If that's not dating, what is? Ten sharp on Sunday, be here." She hung up.

  I turned my eyes back to the room. "Well, that went well."

  "What was that you were saying about her just worrying?"

  "Okay you're right; she's a total pain in the patootie."

  Luke seemed to be sitting there amused by this whole exchange. "To be honest, I think it's kind of sweet."

  Nona and I just stared at him. Was he mad? "Those are words you'll live to regret."

  "I don't know, it's nice that she cares about you two."

  Nona returned to the task of placing spoonfuls of filling on top of the pasta sheets. There wasn't much more to say on the topic.

  #

  Nona sent us up to my place with a bag of pasta and a bowl of sauce. She didn't want us to eat with her, claiming she was tired. I knew she wasn't and that she just thought we should be alone.

  "She's sweet," Luke said, placing the sauce on my stove top.

  "Yeah, until you cross her. Half the people that know her are terrified of her; she likes it that way. But you're right, underneath, the woman's a marshmallow."

  "Like you. You act all tough at work and all sassy with people but that's not who you are. You're a softy."

  He was right, I supposed, but big softies got squashed. Their mothers ran their lives, they didn't get clients, and they didn't make money. Oh yeah, and they got their hearts broken. He was standing behind me. I was facing the counter. His arms were wrapped around my waist and he was kissing the side of my neck. It was hard to concentrate on broken hearts at this moment when I did indeed feel all warm and gooey inside. I reminded myself that this was temporary. Physical. Fun. And the stuff that shattered hearts was made of.

  "Well, I've had to toughen up over the years. I'm sure you have, too."

  "Maybe." He was nibbling on my ear.

  Maybe this was a conversation for another time.

  An hour later we were sitting at the kitchen counter eating pasta in our pajamas. Well, Luke was in nothing but boxers, and that was a whole lot more than he had been wearing a few minutes earlier. Shirtless Luke eating pasta with me meant this was a very good Friday night. I wanted to take a photo of him so I could look at it when he was gone. Man, I was in a bad way.

  "If your grandmother's lasagna is better than this, I am seriously moving in with her." He let out an appreciative sigh.

  "She'd appreciate that. It'd get my mother off her back."

  "Sure, anything I can do." He forked another spoonful of pasta in and savored the moment. "Your mom is very sweet, you know."

  "Sweet like a barracuda."

  "It's nice she cares. My mother has a very hands-off style. I know she loves me, but I've been on my own pretty much since I started school, or I was dragged around the planet. Your nice stable family has its charms."

  "Were you lonely?"

  "Sometimes. I always had friends but yeah, I spent an awful lot of time alone. It's why I read so much I think. You're never alone when you have a book."

  My heart broke for little Luke. I could picture him sitting in an African village, half naked and his nose buried in a book.

  "True. I guess there are pros and cons. You had your grandparents though. They were sweet people."

  "They were but, truthfully, I think they were embarrassed by my parents, and it was always a bit weird. Sometimes they wouldn't see me for two years because we'd be abroad and then they'd be dumped with me for a month or two, or dragged to wherever we lived to babysit. My mother, who is a lovely woman and an excellent scientist, was not a natural parent. And she was a pretty hopeless daughter. It was awkward."

  "I guess not everyone is a natural parent." Though it wasn't really something most of the girls I knew ever thought about. You grew up, got married, and had kids that you loved. It wasn't that complicated.

  "Yeah. I'm pretty sure my parents would have been happier had they not had me." He said it so matter-of-factly it was heartbreaking. That he thought that was okay or normal somehow.

  "That's ridiculous, of course they love you."

  "I'm not questioning that; I'm just saying I was a complication and without me life would have been easier."

  "Easier isn't always better."

  He shrugged. "I kind of thought you'd be married with kids by now."

  That made two of us. "Well, I wanted to have some independence, I like working . . . oh yeah, and I know plenty of guys who I could have married but I was waiting for the right guy."

  The truth was at twenty-three I could have married half the guys in the neighborhood, cute guys whose families I knew, who were pals with my brothers, but I'd never wanted that.

  "So, I ruined you for other men," he teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

  "Get over yourself. You are so arrogant," I joked back. The truth was I kind of always thought he had and
having him back here, and it feeling so right, it was pretty clear to me he really had. I should have married one of those guys way back when because if I wasn't prepared to settle after a fling with young Luke, being with grown-up Luke pretty much meant when he left I was going to be alone forever.

  #

  Saturday I woke up to Luke in my bed. He looked at odds with my all white room and overstuffed pillows, but he looked so good. I'd never had less desire to get my butt out of bed in my life. I wanted to stay here in this cocoon all day. He was on his back, hands behind his head, and his chest rose and fell rhythmically. He looked so peaceful.

  I didn't feel peaceful. As soon as I got out of bed, the reality of life was going to hit again.

  "I can hear you thinking from over here," Luke said without opening his eyes. "Maybe if you came closer it would help."

  It couldn't hurt. I had about two minutes before I needed to leap from the bed, fly into the shower, blow-dry my hair, put on my make-up, slide into a slinky yet professional dress, and drive to my first open house. Only three today at least. Two minutes snuggling with Luke would be nice. I curled into his warm chest.

  "What's up?"

  "Just planning my day. I wish I was going sailing with you guys." I sighed. Aaron and Chase were taking Luke sailing as all three of us girls had to work. I shouldn't complain, Lucy and Piper would already be up in the kitchen making pies.

  "I wish I was spending the whole day here with you," he replied, kissing the top of my head.

  "That would be even better than sailing."

  "Better than sailing and Tolstoy," he teased.

  Sadly, that wasn't an option. I reached up and gently kissed his lips. "I'm sorry, but I have to get moving. You sleep."

  He chuckled. "I can't sleep if you're naked in the shower. My mind will never rest."

  "You could come with me," I suggested. He was up, leaping out of bed and dragging me into the bathroom in record time.

  I guess I knew what to suggest if I ever needed to get him moving. "Come on, Cherie, I would hate for you to be running late."

  "You're so good to me."

  "Let me remind you how good I can be," he said, turning on the taps and letting the room steam up before taking my mouth in his in a slow, languorous kiss.