I smile. I’m going to leave things right there with Aunt Ginger. “So how was the ride up?”
She comes to herself. “It…it was good.”
“Not a lot of traffic on the thru-way then?”
“Not too bad. We ran into a flurry around Albany, other than that, clear sailing.”
“Good to hear.” I glance away, sweeping my gaze around the room. My uncle, Howard, has trapped Padre in a conversation, something about renovating his house and asking Padre if he knows of anyone down their way who could cut him a deal on it. Of course Padre is gracious and gives him a name.
Aunt Ginger clears her throat. “I should probably go on out and see if anyone needs help in the kitchen.”
Poor Aunt Gin, she still doesn’t get it after all these years. You don’t insist on helping out in an Italian kitchen unless you’re invit
