ChapterThirty One
Arriving at Tony’s parents’ house, I said, “Well, here I am again, your son couldn’t get rid of me,” as I hugged Tony’s mother warmly as we embraced, and kissed Mr. Giannelli’s cheek as we hugged.
Again, I was caught by the wonderful smells coming from the kitchen, reminding me of the first time I had visited Tony’s parents.
I said to Mrs. Giannelli, “I bet you’ve been cooking all week.”
“No, no, Laura, but each day, a little something, and after a few days, everything is done and ready,” replied Tony’s mother, in her broken Italian-English.
“It smells absolutely wonderful.”I said.
The following morning, when I awoke, I heard Mr. and Mrs. Giannelli speaking to each other. As my room was just off the kitchen, I dressed and opening my door, Mrs. Giannelli was standing
