Mom’s face bursts with joy. “Thank you, Josh. I simmer for ten hours and put red wine in the sauce—oh, and a little dash of nutmeg, that’s the secret. And, please, call me Louise.”
Josh’s smile is absolutely adorable.
“Mom, Josh has been to Italy, so if he says it’s the best sauce ever, that’s a huge compliment,” I say.
Mom is positively beaming. “Well, thank you. Where in Italy have you been?”
Josh shifts in his chair. “Pretty much all over.”
“Oh, how nice. I’ve always wanted to go to Italy. I think I was Italian in a past life.” She grins. “So Kat tells us you’ve just moved back home to Seattle?”
Josh has just taken a huge bite of spaghetti, so he simply nods in reply.
“Josh came home to start a new company with his brother Jonas,” I say. “Rock climbing gyms.”
“Wow, cool,” Ryan says. He asks Josh several questions about Climb & Conquer, which prompts Dad and Colby to chime in and ask a few, too, and Josh answers every question with obvious enthusiasm.
“How wonderful to start a business with your brother,” Mom says. “Is Jonas older or younger?”
But, once again, Josh is scarfing down a big bite of spaghetti just as Mom asks her question.
“Jonas and Josh are twins,” I say. “Fraternal.”
“Oh. Sorry, Josh. I keep asking you questions right after you’ve taken a bite.”
Josh swallows his food. “No, I’m sorry. I’m acting like a caveman. I can’t control myself. This is the best spaghetti I’ve ever had.”
Ryan chuckles. “Oh, man, Josh. You just bumped Keane out of the number one spot.”
“I don’t have a number one spot,” Mom says defensively. “You’re all in the number one spot—except for you, Ryan, for saying that.” She scowls at him.
“And if she did have a number one spot, it certainly wouldn’t be occupied byKeane,for crying out loud,” Dad adds.
We all burst out laughing—Dad never joins in on razzing Keane.
“Nice one, Dad,” Ryan says.
Mom wags her finger at Dad. “That’s not funny, Thomas. Don’t encourage them.” She addresses all of us kids. “You guys stop picking on Keane all the time. He’s more sensitive than he lets on.”
We kids all roll our eyes.
“Heis,” Mom insists. “He used to write me poetry when he was little.”
Ryan laughs. “What was it? ‘Roses are red, violets are blue, but enough about flowers and shit, Mommy, let’s talk about me?’”
Everyone laughs, including Mom.
“‘And, by the way, can I borrow twenty bucks?’” Dax adds to the poem.
Everyone laughs again.
“Mom, Peen asks for it and you know it,” Ryan says. “A guy can’t act like he does and not expect to get razzed for it. He’s made his choice.”
Mom’s expression is noncommittal, which is tantamount to admitting Keane deserves every bit of razzing he gets.
“Mom,” Dax says, “I love our penile brother more than anyone in this family, probably, and I still think he’s an idiot.”
Oh, now he’s crossed a line—but not because he called Keane an idiot. “You don’t love Keane more than anyone,” Mom says, scowling. “I’m hismother—which meansIlove him more than anyone. That’s the very definition of ‘mother.’ ‘She who loves the most.’”
