“What’s going on?” I asked him.
“Ball game. The Mets are playing.”
I looked at the platter of wings he was holding. “Leo said you were making up your famous wings. I didn’t know you made wings.”
“I buy them at Costco. When I want to get fancy, I put them on a plate.”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“Go ahead,” Morelli said. “We can talk while I make my famous blue cheese dressing for the wings.”
He took a bottle of blue cheese salad dressing out of the fridge and dumped it into a bowl. I heard the front door crash open and lots of screaming and little feet pounding their way to the kitchen.
“That’s Anthony,” Morelli said. “He’s got the kids today.”
Little Anthony, Angelina, and Bobby ran in and jumped up and down, yelling.
“Uncle Joe! Uncle Joe! Uncle Joe!”
Morelli took a big bag of M&M’s off the counter and threw it into the living room. “Fetch.”
The kids ran out, and Morelli handed me the platter of wings. “Take this out to the guys.”
“I didn’t mean to barge in.”
“You’re not barging.”
I set the platter on the coffee table, and Morelli’s sister and two more kids arrived.
“Your sister is here,” I said to Morelli.
“Yeah, she’s a big Mets fan.”
“Does this happen a lot?”
“What?”
“The party.”
“It’s not a party. It’s game day.” He pulled two more bags of chips out of a cupboard.
“Why wasn’t I invited?”
“No one was invited. People just show up. I can’t get them to stop. Anyway, you don’t want to be here.”
“Of course I do. You’re my boyfriend. In fact, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Sure,” Morelli said, putting a bottle of beer in my hand. “Go ahead. Talk.”
“I’ve been thinking about our relationship and how it’s sort of in a holding pattern.”
A pack of kids ran in, grabbed the bags of chips, and ran out. Bob ran after them. A moment later there was a lot of shrieking and screaming.
“Omigod,” I said. “What happened?”
“Bob got the chips,” Morelli said. “It happens all the time. Go ahead. What were you saying?”
“Maybe this isn’t a good time.”
Bob galloped through the kitchen with the bag of chips in his mouth and crashed through the screen door. The kids followed him into the backyard and chased him around in circles.
“I’m listening,” Morelli said. “You wanted to talk about our relationship.”
“Yes. The thing is… I bought a vacuum cleaner today.”
Morelli was hands on hips. “A vacuum cleaner.”
“Yep. And I already used it. And you know I have that slow cooker I won at Bingo.”
Angelina was at the back door. “Uncle Joe, Bobby rolled in dog poop.”
“Again? Don’t let him in the house,” Morelli said. “Anthony,” he yelled. “Your kid rolled in dog poop.”
“Again?” Anthony said. “Why don’t you clean up your damn yard?”
Anthony walked into the kitchen, and Joe handed him a plastic garbage bag, a roll of paper towels, and dish detergent.
“What’s he going to do?” I asked Morelli.
“Turn the hose on him.” He grabbed a six-pack from the fridge and handed it to me. “Take this to Leo and you’ll miss most of the screaming.”
I took the six-pack into the living room, handed it to Leo, and the front door opened and Bella walked in. She was carrying a casserole and wearing a Mets ball cap. I turned on my heel and hustled back to the kitchen.
“Bella’s here!” I said to Morelli.
“Did she bring the casserole? Is she wearing her lucky hat?”
“Yes! What is she doing here?”
“She’s a big Mets fan. I know she’s crazy, but she’s our lucky granny. If she isn’t here with her casserole, she could jinx the Mets.”
Bobby ran in from the backyard and streaked naked through the kitchen, heading for the living room.
“Where is she?” Bella screeched. “I saw demon woman.”
“She’s coming to get me!” I said to Morelli.
“I’ll talk to her,” Morelli said.
“No way. I’m out of here.”
“The conversation …”
I gave him a fast kiss. “Later.”
He grabbed me and kissed me, and his kiss had a lot more passion than mine. “Promise?”
“Yes. Probably. Maybe.”
I bolted out the door, jumped the hedge to his neighbor’s yard, and sneaked through the narrow alley back to my car. I drove around the block, where I would be out of Bella’s voodoo range, and took a moment to pull myself together.