Tommy steps into his office, and Erika is already there, settled in his chair like she belongs to the room.
Her blind face angles toward the door as if she hears his thoughts before his shoes stop moving. City light spills over the desk and catches the edge of her dark duster.
Thomas "Tommy" Capozzi
She knows I was with Luca.
Erika
You took your time coming back.
The perfume in the air hangs soft and expensive, mixing with the low hum from the street below. Erika folds her hands over one knee, calm and patient.
Erika
So. Did you decide what you are going to do about dinner?
The room goes still around the question, not tense, just waiting. Erika keeps her face turned toward Tommy, ready to hear whatever he offers.
“I take her hand in mine and tell her that Sunday, she's going to properly meet my father and all six of my siblings.”
SUCCESS (Great Willpower, rolled -1)
Tommy takes her hand, and the room seems to shrink to that small, steady contact. The window light catches their joined hands on the desk edge.
Thomas "Tommy" Capozzi
Sunday, you meet my father, and all six of my siblings.
Erika
So he is choosing the hard version of this, out loud.
Erika
All six? That is either brave or terrible planning.
Her fingers tighten once around his, then settle. The calm in her posture does not break, but it changes, becoming more present than patient.
Erika
If I am walking into that room, I want to know what I am walking into.
She turns her blind face toward him, waiting for the rest, while the city glow slides a little farther across the desk.
“I describe my family as: A grouchy fat slob (Donatello), a rage fueled brute (Vincenzo), a walking black hole (Joseph), an easy to forget screw up (Antonia), a perpetually high punk (Michael), an over achieving ass kisser (Victoria), and a horny bitch (Nichole). By the tone of my voice its obviously all just a joke to try and make Erika laugh.”
SUCCESS (Great Willpower, rolled +0)
Tommy keeps the grin in his voice as he sketches each sibling out like a bad line item, all sharp edges and comic timing.
Erika
You are really committing to this performance, huh?
A breath of laughter slips out of her before she can stop it, and her shoulders ease a fraction.
Erika
The punchline is terrible, Tommy.
Erika
Which, annoyingly, is why it works.
She tilts her head toward his voice, smiling now in a way that softens the whole room.
Erika
So this is the family I am meeting, loud, impossible, and apparently all individually allergic to dignity.
Erika
Tell me the one thing I should not say at dinner.
“You can say just about anything that's not an outright threat or insult.”
SUCCESS (Fair Social, rolled +0)
Thomas "Tommy" Capozzi
Tommy tells her to keep it simple, listen more than she talks, and let the loud ones fill the silence themselves.
Thomas "Tommy" Capozzi
He keeps the advice plain, because overexplaining it would sound fake.
Erika
That is almost disappointingly reasonable.
Erika
So, no big speeches, no poking the dangerous-looking people, and no pretending I am not nervous.
She lets go of his hand just long enough to straighten a paper on the desk, then looks back up with a small, steady smile.
Erika
If I do this your way, am I at least allowed to judge them quietly?
The room settles into an easy hush, the kind that follows a decision finally being named out loud.
“Oh you can judge them out loud, you just gotta be funny about it.”
SUCCESS (Great Willpower, rolled +1)
Erika leans back in the chair, the corner of her mouth pulling into a real smile as she weighs his advice.
Erika
Funny judgment, got it. So I am allowed to be mean, but only with good timing.
She taps the paper flat with two fingers, then glances toward the window glow spread across the desk like a dare.
Erika
Your family sounds like a room full of people who all think they are the main character.
The joke lands, and she laughs under her breath before sobering again, eyes steady on Tommy.
Erika
If I am doing this, I want to do it honestly. No hiding behind polite silence all night.
Her hand finds the edge of his desk, not quite a grip, just a quiet claim on the moment they are sharing.