“It looks like agita tonight,” Uncle Bernie said, patting his overlarge stomach as he looked at the buffet table with something close to lust.

Faith clung closer to Leo, too overwhelmed by so many people crammed into one room. This was a part of the house she’d never ventured into.

“Who brought the zuppa di pesce? It looks amazing,” one of the men asked.

“Gemma did,” answered another voice.

“It’s a new recipe. I hope it’s okay,” a voice answered from the back of the room.

“Gemma, I didn’t know you’d arrived,” Leo said, turning toward the dark-haired beauty. His voice had gone softer, kinder—as if he were trying to settle a spooked horse or a stray dog that had been abused and kept in a cage.

The room grew chilly as the woman looked away. A few guests closest to her stiffened as well. It was as if a behavioral contagion had been let loose on the room.

“This is my fiancée, Faith. Faith, this is my sister, Gemma,” Leo said, as if nothing was wrong. His tone, his posture and body language… none of it revealed what might be going through his mind or whether he noticed the change in the atmosphere.

“Hi,” Gemma said shortly, not making eye contact either with her brother or with Faith.

Faith didn’t have time to puzzle over the coldness of the sister because an older man was giving her the once over. Not in a lecherous way—more sizing her up like she was a prize heifer at the state fair.

“The babies will be good drinkers,” he said after a beat. Then he looked to Leo. “You had to go Irish on us? I didn’t mind when you were just dating them, but marrying one? For God’s sake…”

“Uncle Sal,” Leo said. It sounded like a warning, but there was no bite behind it. Nothing like the encounter with Angelo earlier. “She’s Catholic. Let that be enough.”

The old man shrugged. “We’ll see. I just hope those babies have your strong Italian looks.”

Faith was sure she winced visibly at that and equally sure Leo’s uncle believed it was about her heritage. No one could suspect the real source of her angst. Would she truly be expected to be Leo’s baby factory? He’d promised he’d never make her do any of that, but what would he tell his family when no babies came? Would they pity her or be angry she’d taken something away from them which they felt entitled to? When it was clear no children were on the way, would they then hold her ethnic background against her?

“At least she’ll have babies,” Gina said. “You’ll need to get started on that soon, Leo. At forty-one, you aren’t getting any younger. Thank God, you didn’t join the priesthood, or there would be no one to carry on the family name.” She pinned Angelo with a glare and crossed herself. Whether this was to put a point on her thanks, a prayer against her other son’s homosexual nature, or guilt for disparaging the priesthood, Faith couldn’t be sure. Maybe it was a melting pot of all three.