The house was more comfortable than I'd expected. It felt like a family house, used to the noise and confusion of children. First Joe and his siblings, and now there were grandchildren. The furniture was slipcovered and clean. The carpet freshly vacuumed. The tabletops polished. There was a small wooden toy chest under one of the front windows and a child's rocker beside the chest.

The dining room was more formal. The table was set with a lace cloth. The hutch displayed worn heirloom china. Two bottles of wine sat uncorked and breathing at the head of the table. There were white lace curtains on the windows and a traditional, burgundy Oriental rug under the table.

We all took our seats; and Mary Elizabeth said grace while I eyed the antipasto.

After grace, Grandma Bella raised her wineglass. "To Stephanie and Joseph. Long life and many bambinos."

I glanced over at Joe. "You want to field this one?"

Joe took some ravioli and sprinkled them with grated cheese. "Only two bambinos. I can't afford a big family on a cop's salary."

I cleared my throat and glared at Morelli.

"Okay, okay," Morelli said. "No bambinos. Stephanie moved in with me because she needs a place to live while her apartment gets repaired. That's all there is to it."

"What do you think, I'm a fool?" Grandma Bella said. "I see what goes on. I know what you do."

Morelli helped himself to chicken. "Stephanie and I are just good friends."

I went rigid with my fork halfway to my mouth. He'd used those words to describe his relationship with Terry Gilman. Wonderful. Now what was I supposed to believe? That I was on equal footing with Terry? Well, you pushed him into it, stupid. You forced him to tell Bella this wasn't a serious relationship. Well, yeah, I thought, but he could have made me sound a little more important than Terry Gilman!

Bella's head rolled back, and she put her hands palms down on the table. "Silence!"

Mary Elizabeth made the sign of the cross.

Mrs. Morelli and Joe exchanged long-suffering glances.

"Now what?" I whispered.

"Grandma Bella's having a vision," Joe said. "It goes with having the eye."

Bella's head snapped up, and she pointed two fingers at Joe and me. "I see your wedding. I see you dancing. And I see after that you will have three sons, and the line will continue."

I leaned toward Joe. "Those things you bought . . . they were good quality, right?"

"The best money can buy."

"I gotta go lay down now," Bella said. "I always gotta rest after I have a vision."

We waited while she left the table and climbed the stairs. The bedroom door clicked closed, and Joe's mother gave an audible sigh of relief.

"Sometimes she gives me the willies," Mary Elizabeth said.

And then we all dug into the meal, avoiding talk about marriage and babies and crazy old Italian women.