LANA MASON
Close behind me, Jackie is cackling at Maya and telling her to hurry up while she keeps my pace on the cracked sidewalk. Jackie knows damn well that it's not the shortest walk from the subway to my parents' place, but she insisted on wearing a pair of Manolo's. That's because she's hoping my cousin, Christopher, will be in attendance tonight. They've hooked up a few times, much to my discretion.
"You're such an idiot," Jackie continues giggling as Maya huffs and fixes her hair, climbing the six stone steps to my red-brick, incredibly modest childhood home.
"Shut up," Maya tries not to smile as I glance over my shoulder and ask if they're both ready. They know why I'm asking.
"We're ready," Jackie salutes.
"Alright," I mumble wearily and open the door to all the boisterous chatter, and the potent, powerful acidic scent of homemade tomato sauce. It sounds and smells like home.
"Lana!" Angel, one of my many little cousins, makes a beeline for me and wraps her arms tight around my legs.
"Hi, weirdo," I laugh and ruffle her blonde, forever-untamed curls. "How've you been?"
"Good!" She smiles up at me with little square teeth, but she's gone just as quickly as she arrived when my other little cousins resume the chase around the living room off to the left. In response, my Aunt Victoria yells for them to knock it off half-heartedly in her Jersey accent.
"Oh, it's Lana!" She draws my name out, though she always says it like Hannah with an L, not Lawn-a the way it's supposed to be pronounced. I don't mind because she doesn't do it on purpose. "Get in here!"
"Hi," I laugh and step around the kids to hug her where she's sitting at the dining room table with two of my other aunts and uncles.
One by one, I make my rounds to hug Aunt Jennifer and her husband, Uncle Mike, and Aunt Rosie, her husband, Uncle Tony, and Aunt Victoria's partner, Simon. They all smell strongly of red wine, and my Uncle Tony smells of cigarette smoke. He teasingly pinches my cheek with thick sausage fingers, laughing when I scrunch my face up and ask him when's the last time he washed his hands.
"You all remember Jackie and Maya, right?"
"Oh, of course," Aunt Rosie flicks her wrist. Like her sister, Victoria, her Jersey accent also couldn't be thicker. "Hi, ladies."
"Hi, thanks for having us," Jackie offers her annoyingly perfect smile as she pulls her straight blonde hair out from under her winter coat. Maya is looking over her shoulder for Christopher.
"Jesus, take off your jackets and get comfortable, what is this?" My dad emerges from the kitchen in all his six-foot-five glory, most of his tanned face shielded by a navy blue Yankees hat. "How are you, sweetheart?"
"Good," I tilt my head as he does the same to kiss my cheek.
"Joe, the sauce is bubbling!" My mom yells from the kitchen. "You can't just leave it like this!"
"I'm hungry, Mama!" Cassie, Angel's sister, tugs at Aunt Victoria's striped sweater sleeve.
"Well, I told you to eat breakfast and you didn't listen to me," Aunt Victoria shrugs and sips her wine. "Maybe you listen to me next time, yeah?"
"Hi, girls," my dad makes his rounds to greet Maya and Jackie with kisses on their cheeks. "Sit down, sit down, drink something."
"Thanks, Mr. Russo," they respond simultaneously with knowing smirks. I shake my head in disapproval as if I'm their mother as he retreats to the kitchen to help my mom.
