“Sorry, Gram,” is all I can say. “I’ll do better.”
“Just be you.”
“I always am.”
“Lord, how I know. Now, go introduce your girl to everyone.”
Arlo is about to open her mouth, but I jump in and say, “Will do, Gram.”
“Lovely to meet you, Arlo. Please don’t leave here hungry.”
Arlo smiles. “Based on the smell, I don’t think that will be an issue.”
“Need to fatten you up. No babies as long as you’re that skinny.”
“What?” Arlo’s eyes widen.
“Nothing, sweetie,” Gram says before wandering away.
The others are still relatively quiet, whispering among themselves, probably placing bets on how long my relationship will last. Can’t say I blame them. I’ve never settled down, and before Arlo, I never planned to either.
“Arlo, this is my nosy-as-hell family.” I wave my arm out, motioning toward the entire group.
They all smile in unison, looking creepy as fuck.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with them,” I whisper to her. “It’s like they’ve all lost their minds.”
“No, son. Seeing you here with Arlo is like looking into the sky and seeing God himself descending through the clouds. Two things we never anticipated experiencing in our lifetimes,” my grandpa says, stepping through the group.
I shake my head, trying to hold back my laughter at their stupidity. “That’s ridiculous.”
Grandpa places his hand on my shoulder and gives me a wink. “The truth sometimes is, but you made us think it was never going to happen.” He then moves his eyes to Arlo. “Hello, sweet girl. Welcome to our home.”
“Thank you,” Arlo replies.
“These are my kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids. If they say anything crazy, ignore them. They’re not all right in the head because we spoiled them.”
“Pop, stop lying,” my uncle Joe says. “You’re hardly normal, so stop acting like you are.” My uncle lifts his hand in greeting to Arlo. “I’m his uncle Joe, Gigi’s father.”
Arlo smiles, her cheeks turning pink. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You have your hands full with this one,” Uncle Joe says.
Her smile widens as she looks at me and then back to him. “I’m well aware.”
“Nothing about him has been easy since he was born,” Uncle Joe says.
“Can we not kick up the last thirty years just this second?” I ask him, knowing my family has been salivating for this moment. “Save it for next time.”
Uncle Joe raises an eyebrow. “Sure, kid. I got a lifetime, and I’m a patient man.”
“That shit is the truth,” my mom mutters.
“I’m going to run down the line. Everyone keep gawking like weirdos until I say your name and then peel your ass away and go back to acting as normal as you possibly can.”
Dad laughs in the background, keeping watch over the family, and my mom is at his side, snuggled against him.
I go down the line, starting from left to right, and Arlo’s body is completely still. I know it’s a lot to take in, and she’ll never remember who they are, but I want them to go back to acting semi-normal in front of her, or else she’ll never come over again.
When I’m finally done, they do as I asked, peeling off and going back to their usual places. The older adults head to the living room, some of the women, especially my cousins, head to the lanai, and the younger people move toward the den. The people who can cook go to the kitchen to finish prepping dinner, which is no easy feat with this many people.
The only person who doesn’t move is my father. He takes a few steps forward, stopping right in front of us. “I’m James, Carmello’s dad.”
“Hi,” she squeaks, tipping her head back to make eye contact.
He gives her a genuine smile. “They’re a lot, but don’t worry, Arlo. Once you’re in, no one will love you more deeply than this family.”
Arlo’s mouth opens and closes, but nothing comes out.
Dad looks at me and then back to her. “You okay?”
“Great. Great,” she replies, finding her words, but she hasn’t taken her eyes off him. “I’m sorry. I’m just totally dumb struck by how much your boys look like you. I mean, Mrs. Caldo is beautiful, but you’re…you’re…”
“Fuck me,” I mutter.
Her gaze swings to me. “You come from good genes, Mello. That’s all. You have to remember, I have no idea what my parents look like. I can see where you get your eyes, your nose, your jaw. I don’t have that, and it always throws me off when I see people with their parents. You and your two brothers all look more like your dad—with tiny splashes of your mom too, of course.”
“My genes are stronger, but that’s not surprising,” Dad says proudly.
“Even your genes are bossy, Pop.”
Dad’s smile is genuine. “Arlo, what did you mean about your parents? Were you adopted?”
“I was right after I was born.”
“And you didn’t ask your parents about them?”
Her gaze dips to the floor. “They died when I was eight.”
Dad’s face changes, and he’s no longer smiling. “And what happened to you?”
“Foster care,” Arlo whispers. “And after I turned eighteen, I never bothered looking for them.”
“I’m sorry,” he says to her. “If you ever want to look for them, you come see me and I’ll do my best to find them.”
“Thank you, Mr. Caldo.”
“James,” he corrects her. “And no problem. My door is always open to you.”
“You probably won’t hear from me. They haven’t looked for me, so I don’t know why I’d look for them.”
Dad reaches out and takes Arlo’s hands in his. “You don’t know that. When kids enter foster care, it’s easy for records and files to be lost or mislabeled. They may have looked but came up with nothing but dead ends.”
Her shoulders slump, but she does her best to recover, giving him a smile. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good. Now, I’m going to go watch the game. You two enjoy yourself.” Dad dips his chin and gives my shoulder a tight squeeze.
“Thanks, Pop.”
“I can’t believe you’re related to all these people,” Arlo tells me once my dad stalks off. “I will never remember their names.”
My heart aches for her because I know she has no one except biological parents she’s never met. I squeeze her hand and smile. “Every single one, and I know I’m lucky as shit. They’re a lot to take in. Don’t worry about remembering their names. Use Mr. or Mrs. Gallo when in doubt, and ninety-five percent of the time, you’ll be right.”
“Can we go over some of them again? I really pride myself on remembering names and details.”
“We can do whatever you want,” I tell her, liking the idea that she wants to take the time to get to know my family.
“Who’s he again?” she asks, ticking her head directly across the room.