He could strangle Fannie. They never invited the older generations to witness the victory dance. Mom’s tear-stained face had left no doubt she thought he’d one day add Cisney to the family. But Mom had missed Cisney’s coolness toward him on the trip up the basement stairs. Before he could make amends for dropping her hand as if she had the flu, she’d excused herself to take a call. They needed to talk. If he was honest with her, maybe she’d…she’d what? Stop being herself? At least he could explain how Mom was collecting gems to support her cockamamie idea that he and Cisney belonged together. Hopefully, Cisney didn’t have similar ridiculous ideas about their relationship. That would top off the weekend. Tony entered, stripping off his shirt. “Fannie says we have to leave in twenty minutes. Grandma Thelma, Mom, and Aunt Ellie are working like crazy in the kitchen to have everything ready for the Holiday Blast. Should I head upstairs and let Cisney know?” “No. I think she’s on the phone with her parents.
