Page 51 of Come Find Me Tonight

Appa shakes her head with a small smile on her lips. “My room in Georgia would also be embarrassing. Where can I set this?” She gestures to her bag.

“Oh, I’ll get it.”

I take her bag and set both of ours on the bench in front of my bed. In this moment, I’m glad my parents upgraded it to a king when I came back from college. Although I never expected to have Appa in it with me.

After freshening up from the long drive, I take Appa on a walk over to the stables, so she can meet the horses. “You know, I still don’t believe the mob doesn’t have a small part in this,” she says.

I laugh through my nose and reach for her hand to tangle my fingers with hers. “We’re really not mafia. Don’t worry.”

“Hmm, but isn’t that exactly what someone related to the mafia would say?” Appa asks.

“Look, my nonno allegedly had ties to the mob in Italy, but he left for a reason and didn’t stay in New York when he and Nonna got there. Happy?”

Appa stops walking. “Wait, what? So, you are mafia?”

I shake my head. “No, he left it in Italy back in the fifties. Allegedly. That was always his favorite word. The story goes that when Nonna got pregnant with my dad, who’s the oldest, they came to the US, where it seemed safer and more promising.” We continue walking down the dirt path as the horses’ neighs get louder. “My nonno saw the crime in New York City and heard Napa was up and coming, so they took a train here and never looked back. Land in Napa was cheap, so they were able to snag this property and bought more as they made money,” I explain.

“It’s crazy that he was in the mob. Are we safe here?”

“Of course, babe. He left cleanly back then and changed our last name when they got to Ellis Island.”

Appa blinks. “What was it originally?”

I smirk at her. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” I joke.

“That’s not funny, Robby. I’m still not convinced that this isn’t a weird cult of Escalades and red wine.”

I laugh again. “Honestly, I don’t know what it was. Only Nonna would know, and she’d never say.”

“Hmm, a likely story, but I’ll move on. I think it’s really cool that you have so much family history and know about your heritage. I only know that I’m Southern with European ancestors.”

“Well, I do, too, but both my parents can trace their lineage back. My dad to Italy and my mom to Poland.”

“So, does everyone get along? Your dad and his siblings…and your grandma?”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, they’re loud and on top of each other, and my uncles all sound like my dad. I think my aunts get on each other’s nerves, but that’s family, right?”

Appa looks toward the stables and sighs. My nose picks up the sweet, dry hay as we get closer. “I don’t know. It’s becoming so obvious how fucked up my family is. I always knew it was dysfunctional, but this is a new perspective.”

I drape my arm over her shoulder and hug her to my side. “I’m sorry, baby.”

I introduce Appa to the horses, and we feed them carrots from our palms. The velvety ends of their noses tickle my skin. But I mostly watch Appa in her realm with the horses, laughing warmly when one of them bumps into her with his long nose. I don’t know how to explain it, but she’s the missing piece of Napa. Listing my house in LA for sale and moving back where I belong doesn’t sound bad. We could have our happily ever after here.

Please follow me back, Appa.

I clear my throat. “My mom said she made us a lasagna. We just need to bake it. Enzo might pop by to steal some, but want to go swimming or hit the hot tub after dinner?” I say after she gets well acquainted with the horses.

Appa pets the nose of the only Clydesdale we have. “That sounds great. I love this guy.” She’s referring to the horse, but I’d like to think she meant me.

“He loves you, too,” I murmur and join her in petting the soft nose of the beautiful creature. His neighbor neighs at me. “Don’t start with me, Orzo,” I say to the loud horse in a joking way. Appa giggles, eyes brightening.

Her sunshine is even brighter here.

“What’s the Clydesdale’s name?”

“Mac…short for macaroni.”

She blinks at me and then bursts out laughing. The sound echoes in the rafters. “Are they all named after pasta?”