Xanaphia
Evil Midweek Cutie
- Joined
- Sep 28, 2013
It had been too long since Mercy had sat down to a big family dinner. Since before the Great War, to be certain. When she’d first married Vinnie, he had shown up to Sunday dinner twice, before deciding he was too busy to make the time each week, but even then, it hadn’t been the same.
Tonight, wasn’t really the same, either. Not in the formal dining room of the Stone manor, not with most of the table speaking English. It wasn’t the same, but by God, it was nice. Even her mother was beaming, and joining in the conversation with the help of herself or Valentino.
Her mother wasn’t the only one beaming. Marilyn had seemed distant and grim when she’d first joined them for dinner, but over the course of the courses, she warmed up. Mercy still wasn’t sure exactly what was going on with her, but it had something to do with Valentino, based on the way they kept making eyes at each other. As much as it hurt, she was happy for Marilyn, and her brother. Marilyn deserved that happiness, even if she couldn’t be the one to give it to her.
Her mother, it seemed, hadn’t missed the looks they were giving each other either. So, about halfway through the meal, she stood, and tapped her glass of water. “A Marilyn. Una donna abbastanza animata da riuscire finalmente a sistemare mio figlio. " “To Marilyn. A woman spirited enough to finally make my son settle down.”
“You better make this work,” Mercy teased her brother in English, in a quiet murmur. “Otherwise, Mama might decide she’d rather keep Marilyn than you.”
Tonight, wasn’t really the same, either. Not in the formal dining room of the Stone manor, not with most of the table speaking English. It wasn’t the same, but by God, it was nice. Even her mother was beaming, and joining in the conversation with the help of herself or Valentino.
Her mother wasn’t the only one beaming. Marilyn had seemed distant and grim when she’d first joined them for dinner, but over the course of the courses, she warmed up. Mercy still wasn’t sure exactly what was going on with her, but it had something to do with Valentino, based on the way they kept making eyes at each other. As much as it hurt, she was happy for Marilyn, and her brother. Marilyn deserved that happiness, even if she couldn’t be the one to give it to her.
Her mother, it seemed, hadn’t missed the looks they were giving each other either. So, about halfway through the meal, she stood, and tapped her glass of water. “A Marilyn. Una donna abbastanza animata da riuscire finalmente a sistemare mio figlio. " “To Marilyn. A woman spirited enough to finally make my son settle down.”
“You better make this work,” Mercy teased her brother in English, in a quiet murmur. “Otherwise, Mama might decide she’d rather keep Marilyn than you.”