Page 35 of The Curveball
WREN
I blinkagainst the sunlight spilling in through the open door, feeling hungover. The woman is curvy and wears a black baseball cap on her head with a half-eaten cookie logo in the center. Her skin is sun-toasted, and her dark hair drapes over her shoulder in a long braid.
“What are you doing inside?” She’s in Griffin’s house. Why is she in Griffin’s house? “Don’t you just leave it on the porch?”
“Normally, yeah. But I have a key.”
Oh no.Oh, oh, no. Does Griffin have a girlfriend I didn’t know about? I have no right—at all—but there is a twinge in my gut at the thought, and it feels an awful lot like jealousy. But the spark fades quickly. No way does Griffin have a girlfriend. He’s not the guy who would’ve let me use him as a pillow if he did.
“Holy goose egg.” The woman locks her eyes on the knot on the top of my head. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, yeah. That’s my new horn.” I tap my finger gingerly to the bump.
“Yikes. Let me bring this in then.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I’ve got it.”
She gives me a sly sort of grin. “I think he’ll be okay if I help you set these down. So, you’re his girlfriend.” She winks. Why does she wink? “Sorry, I overheard the last bit of that conversation where you were going somewhere with your professional baseball player boyfriend. Since you’re here in Griff’s house, I put two and two together.”
My eyes go wide, and she gives me no chance to even conjure a response before she barrels on.
“And since you’re his girlfriend here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to go put these in the kitchen for you because it looks like the woman who’s dating my cousin is about to trip and fall and break the other side of her face.”
Wow. Aggressive. And . . . cousin.
Family. Why did she have to be family? I’m stone-faced as she strides to my side, pausing there. She studies me, breaks apart my DNA with her scrutiny, then . . . laughs. “I knew he’d pull something like this someday.ZiaGi-Gi is going tokillhim.”
“Um . . .”
The next thing I know, Cookie Woman has her hand jutted out between us, a big, toothy smile on her face. “I’m Martina, but you can call me Marti. I knew he’d hide a girl from us. We’re really not that nosy, but if he didn’t even tell his mom, oh-ho, he’s a dead man. We’ll cut him some slack because of the loss, but the day after tomorrow he’s history. Oh, and these—” she holds up the cookie box. “Perfect. You’re looking at me like you’re insanely surprised. I’m guessing this whole relationship is new enough you didn’t know our family ownsLa Crema Biscotti.”
My mouth keeps popping open. I shake my head. “No. I-I didn’t realize you owned it; I only knew he . . . liked the place.”
“Of course he does. Most of these are Giana’s recipes.”
Giana. I have no idea who Giana is, but a freaking girlfriend would know! I’m awful. I’ve officially lied to the face of Griffin’s cousin and my dad, who will be ten times worse. I don’t know what to say, so I laugh. It’s shaky and nervous, and I want to dissolve into dust.
“I’ll leave these on the table.” She doesn’t wait for another invitation and maneuvers past me, leaving the pink box in the center of Griffin’s small kitchen table. I hobble after her, too flustered to speak. Martina turns to me, beaming. “Tell Griffin the family knows.”
I’m going to vomit. All over his cousin. Oh, yeah. Then they’ll have a lot to talk about at family dinners.
“I’m worried about that bump on your head, Wren,” she says. “You look pale. Maybe you ought to sit down.”
“Uh, yeah.”
The next thing I know, Cousin Marti has her arms wrapped around my body. My skin prickles. Griffin is the clear exception to my aversion to hugs, but I do my best not to go frigid as she helps ease me into one of the table chairs.
“His mom texted him earlier after we saw the accident reports,” Marti says. “I’m guessing you were in the car too.”
I nod, slowly. My brain might pop if I move any faster. “Uh, yeah. I was . . . leaving and we rammed into each other.”
“You’re kidding?” Her mouth drops like mine did. “I bet Griff isdyinginside. He does not take well to hurting people. When he was twelve, he ran over my foot with his bike and broke my pinkie toe. He bought me my favorite cheesecake every day for about two weeks until I had to beg him to stop.”
I smile. It’s such a Griffin thing to do.
Marti hugs me again. I jolt when she lets out a little squeal as she pulls away. “It is so good to meet you. I know I already said that, but it is. Get ready for Ma and Giana. Trust me, if you won Griffin over enough to have a key, they’ll love you more than him. I wish I could stay, but you know, I have a business to run. Talk soon?”
She talks as much, and as swiftly, as Griffin does.