A Dark Sicilian Secret(42)
“'Morning,” Vitt answered, breaking up a breakfast roll into little pieces for Joe who sat in a tall antique high chair at Vitt’s elbow.
She noticed that he barely looked at her and his tone bordered on cold. “May I join you?” she asked uncertainly even as she leaned over to give Joe a kiss.
“It’s your home,” he said, sounding completely disinterested.
She breathed in Joe’s warmth and baby scent for courage before straightening and taking a seat at the glass-topped table.
Kitchen staff immediately appeared to place another setting for her and offer her a choice of espresso or American style drip coffee. Jillian chose the drip coffee and then clutched her hands in her lap to hide her nervousness.
“When did you get back?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice light and normal.
“Last night.”
Her heart fell and ridiculous tears burned the back of her eyes. So where had he slept? And why hadn’t he come to their room? “How did your meeting go?”
“It was interesting.”
“That’s good.” She forced her lips up into a brittle smile and then caught Joe’s eye. He was staring at her as he fed himself a bite of the bread. She smiled more warmly even as her eyes felt grittier, saltier. Please God, don’t let her cry.
“Tell me about your family,” Vitt said abruptly, leaning back in his chair. “You never talk about them.”
“I.I’m not sure what you want to know.”
“Tell me about your father. You said he was a businessman. Sales, I think you said.”
She nodded woodenly. “Yes.”
“And you moved a lot growing up?”
“Yes.”
His eyes narrowed a fraction. “Where were you born?”
“De—” Jillian broke off, bit her tongue, realizing she’d come dangerously close to telling him the very things the government had insisted she never share. “Dallas.”
“Dallas?” he repeated, head tipping to the side. “Which hospital?”
“I don’t remember. I’d have to ask my mother.”
“And where is she?”
“In a retirement community in Florida.”
“We should invite them out for our wedding.”
“They don’t…they don’t…like to fly.”
“Don’t you want your father to give you away?”
She squirmed. “Of course I would, but they don’t travel much and they wouldn’t be comfortable here.”
His lips curved. “Here in our home?”
“No.”
“You mean, here in Sicily?”
“No. That’s not what I mean.”
“So what do you mean, Jill?”
Completely flustered, she bit down into her lower lip, chewed the tender skin. “I’m not close with my parents,” she said at last. “I haven’t seen them in years.”
“They’ve never met Joseph then?”
She shook her head. “They don’t even know he exists.”
“I’m shocked.”
“We’re not all close-knit Sicilian families that dine together every night.”
“Those big noisy meals keep the generations tight.”
“I can’t even imagine.” Jillian had been raised without an extended family. Her mother’s family had cut her off after she married Jillian’s father against their wishes. Her father had been an only son and he’d left home at eighteen to make his fortune in the big city. He’d never bothered to introduce his wife and or children to his parents, even though they only lived six hours south of Detroit. “I don’t even know if I have cousins and I’ve never met my grandparents.”
“Are they still alive?”
“I don’t know.” She made a small sound, a hiccup of laughter tinged by frustration. “I believe both my grandmothers and one of my grandfathers might still be alive, but they were never part of our life.”
“Why not?”
She smiled up at Vitt’s kitchen staff for refilling her coffee. “I don’t know for sure but I think my father had a big ego and far too much pride. I think my mother, having lost her parents when she married my father against their wishes, was terrified of losing my father so she supported him on everything, which meant we didn’t see grandparents, we didn’t do big family holidays. It was always just us, the four of us, Mom, Dad, Katie and me.”