“Mama!” Angelo had to blink to be sure. But there stood Maria Amelia Avico Parrano at his open kitchen door as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She’d only been to his restaurant twice, once at last year’s opening and again last week for Russell’s wedding reception.
He rushed over and gave her a hug.
“You don’t need to be so gentle!” She hugged him back as fiercely.
He laughed and squeezed her harder until she’d have laughed if he’d left her enough air.
He finally let her go and just looked at her. “You look wonderful.” And she did. She’d always been a beautiful woman. He and Russell used to wonder that some man hadn’t hounded her into marriage after Angelo’s father died while Angelo was still in the womb.
Her black, curling, shoulder-length hair had started to gray, an
