Angelina Bonaparte Mysteries Box Set by Nanci Rathbun (reading books for 4 year olds txt) 📕

cara. It’s so pretty, I’ll always wear it on Thanksgiving.” I meant it. Her gift glowed with love and that made it beautiful.

They hardly had their coats hung up when David, Elaine and the twins came in. “Happy Thanksgiving, Mom,” David said as he hugged me. “You ready for this?”

I knew he meant introducing Wukowski to the family, but I pretended ignorance. “Don’t worry, the meal will be on the table, on time and delicious. Aunt Terry will see to it.”

He laughed and herded the boys into Papa’s study to play Mario Brothers. Then he and John got themselves beers and settled in the living room, where they and Papa began a friendly argument about the odds being offered on today’s game. Fausto arrived, placed a chaste kiss on Aunt Terry’s cheek, and joined the men. I smiled at her.

“We’re taking it slow, like you said.”

“Good,” I told her. “You’ll know if you want to speed things up a bit.”

Angela sat with the women in the kitchen, carefully eating a jelly-filled donut that was dusted with powdered sugar. I smiled at her dainty manners.

Emma cut to the chase. “So, Mom,” she grinned, “what’s the latest on you and that good-looking police detective?”

Angela’s head shot up. “Do you have a boyfriend, Nonna?”

“Well, there’s someone I’m dating, Angela. His name is Ted Wukowski. He and his mother will be here later.”

Her big brown eyes assessed me. “Are you in love?”

An expectant hush fell over the kitchen and living room. I couldn’t lie to my granddaughter! “I love him, piccola.” Angela clapped and Emma hugged me. Elaine lifted her cup in a toast. Aunt Terry mumbled, “One step at a time?” and there was a low buzz from the living room. I felt a sudden release of tension from saying it to the world and broke into a huge grin.

Wukowski and his mother arrived at eleven-thirty. Papa went to the front door and ushered them in. “Detective, Mrs. Wukowski, welcome to my home.”

Wukowski said, “Thank you for inviting us, Mr. Bonaparte.”

Lena added, “It is so kind of you.”

I cringed inside at the stiff formality and moved to greet them, but Aunt Terry stepped in to salvage the moment. “I’m Angie’s Aunt Terry. Pat, don’t let them stand there. Take their coats.” Wukowski helped his mother and handed her long wool coat to Papa. Aunt Terry lifted the canvas bag, took Lena’s arm and guided her into the room. “The men all sit in here to watch the football game, but I prefer the kitchen, don’t you?”

I reached Wukowski as he took off his down jacket and handed it to Papa. “Hi, there,” I said, smiling at the sight of him. He stood, as out of place as a rugby player at the opera. I put my arms around him and gave him a quick kiss. Then I turned to Papa. “Papa, meet Ted. Wukowski, this is my father, Pasquale.”

They eyed each other for a moment, then Papa smiled and clapped Wukowski on the shoulder. “Call me Pat. Come in. The game will start in a few minutes.” Under his knit Henley, I felt Wukowski’s arm muscles relax.

I made introductions all around. When I got to the grandchildren, Angela gave him a most serious look and said, “Nonna loves you. Do you love her?”

The room went silent, except for the pregame hoopla on the TV. Wukowski squatted down and said, “I do, Angela. I hope that’s okay with you.” The question wasn’t really aimed at little Angela, who nodded solemnly. Wukowski rose and gazed at Papa.

“Have some wine,” Papa said. “Or maybe a beer?” He steered Wukowski to the mudroom and the Corny keg. Time for the talk that Papa had with every guy I ever dated—be good to my Angelina or you’ll live to regret it. I left them to it.

In the kitchen, Lena sat at the counter while Aunt Terry set out the snack food for the game. I approached Lena with care. “Mrs. Wukowski, Lena, I’m Angie.”

She beamed at me and gestured toward the living room. “I am so happy that my son has found a good woman to love.”

“I’m happy to have found him, Lena. He’s a good man. You must be proud.” I reached out and we hugged. The noise level rose in the living room. “Must be kickoff time,” I said. “We get pretty boisterous around here.”

“It’s happy noise.”

Singly and in twos, my family found time during the game to wander into the kitchen and meet Wukowski’s mother. I watched her for signs of being overwhelmed. She seemed calm and happy. She and Aunt Terry emptied the contents of her bag and discussed how to reheat the sauerkraut and kielbasa.

When the doorbell rang again, I went to greet Lily and Bobbie. Lily settled into a discussion with Angela, who had the second Harry Potter book in hand. Bobbie groaned with the other men when the Lions made a first down. “Defensive line is not pulling its weight,” he said, to affirmations all round.

Papa and Wukowski returned and joined the fray. Patrick and Donald were engaged in a furious game of Hot Wheels on the floor. After a moment of intense whispering, Patrick got up and approached Wukowski. Donald was the instigator when something untoward was going down. Patrick, bless him, hadn’t learned yet that his brother was manipulating him.

“Sir,” said Patrick, “do you carry a gun?”

“When I’m on duty, I do. A police officer has to be ready for any situation.”

“Are you packin’ now?”

I choked on Chex mix. Wukowski gave Patrick a serious look and said, “No, I never carry a gun when I’m off duty and there are children around. I wouldn’t want a kid to get curious and have a bad accident.” He held Patrick’s gaze. “Guns are dangerous. It’s not like TV. That’s why gun owners need to be trained in the use of a weapon.”

Patrick nodded. “Okay.” He resumed playing with his brother.

I was impressed with Wukowski. It was obvious that he wasn’t around