A Bouquet of Love Read Free

brows. “I saw The Godfather . I know how this goes. One minute you’re nibbling on a slice of pizza, the next minute they’re fishing your body out of the Gulf of Mexico.”
    â€œBabbas!” I slapped myself on the head. “That’s ridiculous. The pizza parlor is just that—a pizza parlor. So don’t worry about . . .”
    I found myself distracted as a stretch limo pulled up to Parma John’s. An older gentleman in a dark suit got out. He carried a large case of some sort in his hands. Odd.
    â€œSee?” My father pointed at the fellow. “Just as I suspected.”
    â€œBabbas, are you saying he’s a bad man?” Gina hid behind the lamppost.
    â€œWell, what do you suppose he’s got in that case there?” Babbas lowered his voice, his words now laced with concern.
    Gina’s eyes grew wide. “What, Babbas? What?”
    â€œA machine gun, that’s what.” My father gave an abrupt nod, as if that settled the issue once and for all.
    â€œM-m-machine gun?” Gina ran back inside Super-Gyros, her shrill voice ringing out, “Mama!”
    â€œYou really think they’re mobsters? I’m outta here.” Darian shoved his laptop under his arm and scooted back inside the door, muttering something about how he wanted to go back to California, where people were normal.
    Didn’t we all.
    Babbas followed him, but I lingered on the sidewalk, convinced we weren’t dealing with mobsters. No, most of the people in the crowd looked just like us—perfectly normal. Not that anyone in the Pappas family could be called normal, but whatever.
    The strains of a Dean Martin song drifted through the air as the door to Parma John’s opened once again. I watched as a young woman not much older than me, judging from the looks of things, stepped outside. She carried a toddler on one hip, and a little boy ran ahead of her on the sidewalk.
    She called out a name, D.J., and then waved at a man— Wow! Real Texas cowboy material! —who ambled her direction, his pointed cowboy boots clicking along the cobblestone road. The handsome stranger pulled off his Stetson and swept the young woman into his arms, brushed her dark curls out of her face, and then planted kisses on her lips. Okay then.Must be a couple. And judging from the way he tousled the boy’s hair and then slipped the toddler onto his shoulders, he was the father of the kiddos. I was looking at a picture postcard of a true Texas family. Wow.
    Maybe the great state of Texas wouldn’t be so bad after all, not if all the fellas looked like this guy. Maybe he had a brother. Or a cousin. One could hope, anyway.
    The young woman glanced my way before walking back into Parma John’s with the cowboy and children. She squinted as the clouds above shifted and a bright, sunny sky caused a glare. Then she offered a welcoming smile and a little wave, which I returned.
    See, Babbas? No mobsters here. Just friendly Texans .
    â€œCassia?” My father’s stern voice sounded from the open doorway. “Your mama and Yia Yia need help setting up the kitchen. Besides, it’s not safe out there. You don’t know what those people are up to.”
    The smell of pizza drifted across the road once again, and I fought the temptation one last time. I knew what they were up to, all right. Delicious pizza. Smelled good. Really, really good. But I knew better than to risk losing my inheritance—not that I really had one—over a deluxe pepperoni with extra cheese. Babbas would disown me in a hurry should I step foot over the invisible line he’d painted down the cobblestone street. No, I’d stay on the Super-Gyros side, where good Greek girls belonged.
    Just when I thought I couldn’t stand the temptation one moment longer, my grandmother joined me on the sidewalk. The midday sun gave her thinning white hair an angelic glow and made the soft, tissue-paper