by L. D. Davis
I attempted to shake off the negativity that was beginning to build. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Ah. Yes. Well, Sofia and I spoke while you were at Giovanni’s. She wants to go back to the States with us when we leave. At first, I told her no. Once I do return, I will be working night and day to make up for all the time I’ve missed over the past couple months. I will not have time or patience to watch over her.”
“She’s nineteen years old, Marco. She doesn’t need anyone to watch her.”
“She will be unfamiliar with the country and its people, and she is my baby sister, Lydia. I will not be okay to just let her run free, and my parents would not be okay with that, either.”
“She’s not a barnyard animal, Mangini.”
“I am glad you think so, because she had a rebuttal lined up for me. She would like to return to Ohio with you.”
We stopped just outside of Massimo’s front door, and I stared at him with wide eyes. “Why?”
“She likes you. She likes the children. If she goes back with you, she can help you with the children. At the same time, she can go to college, and I will have peace of mind. I will know that my sister is in good hands and not getting into trouble, and you will have the assistance you need while your pretty belly grows with my child.” His hand went over my lower abdomen and leaned in for a sweet but spicy kiss that left me feeling warm in the cool air.
“You can kiss me all you want,” I said breathlessly. “But I refuse to babysit your sister. If she comes with me, I am treating her like the adult woman she is. If she wants to go out and have a good time, I won’t stop her.”
Marco growled with irritation and nipped my bottom lip.
I smirked. “Maybe I’ll go have a good time with her.”
He growled deeper before he took my mouth hard. “No. You’re my MILF. I won’t share you with horny twenty-something-year-old boys.”
I gasped and pulled back to stare at his face. “Did you just call me a MILF? And what makes you think I want twenty-something-year-old boys. Why would I want them when I can have you, old man?” I purred the last part.
His mouth remained curved on one side, but his gaze grew serious. “Do you want me?”
The vulnerability that he let me see in his face just then almost shattered me. I gave him the most honest answer I could. “I always want you, Marco, even when I don’t.”
After a moment, he smiled, but it never reached his eyes.
“Let’s get you inside,” he murmured. He kissed me once more and then led me out of the cold.
Chapter Ten
Massimo was out of bed and seated in an armchair by a large window when I arrived. While he still looked pale and sickly, there was marked improvement from when I’d seen him yesterday.
“Please, sit,” he said after Marco was gone and it was only the two of us.
I sat down on a couch across from him. “How are you today?”
His lips twitched into a smirk. “I still have cancer. How are you?”
“I haven’t puked in the last few hours, so I’m good.”
His smile widened. “Congratulations on the new addition.”
“Thank you.”
“How was your brunch?”
“It was nice. Salina and Tess are great.”
Massimo’s face grew soft. “Tessa is the perfect soul.”
I thought that was an interesting thing to say, but then again, they had been best friends as children. It was clear after the things I’d witnessed and discussed with Tess that they were close now.
“I really like her. Daniel is an adorable handful.” Mandy was a handful also, but the nickname Gia had given the little boy, The Wrecker, was apt. The kid seemed to have an endless well of energy.
Massimo’s eyes sparked with interest. He began to cough when he tried to speak, though, which lasted for a couple minutes. I got him a cup of water and some tissues, unsure what else to do for him.
He was a bit breathless when he finished. “Thank you. I apologize, Sorellina.”
I hovered over him, annoying myself, because I hated when people did that to me. “Don’t apologize to me. What can I do for you?”
He gestured to the couch. “You can sit back down and tell me about Daniel.”
My lips twisted doubtfully, but at his insistence, I sat again.
“Tell me about Daniel,” he repeated with a small smile. “I do not get to see him often these days.”
There was not much to tell, since I hadn’t spent that much time with the boy, but Massimo hung on to every word and asked a ton of questions. He laughed at the nickname Gia gave him and shook his head with a big grin when I told him how Tess had to pin the kid down just to get his coat on.
Massimo’s voice was wistful, his eyes momentarily distant. “I cannot wait to see him tonight.”
“Are you sure you should go? You’re still very sick, and someone can get you sicker.”
He’d had another coughing fit while I told him about Tess’s little boy.
His lips pressed together, and he nodded, understanding my concerns. “I have spent the past week in this room, Sorellina. I have been in the hospital several times since my diagnosis. My life in public places abruptly ended when my immune system became…what is the word?”
“Compromised,” I put in.
“Yes. Compromised. I used to miss milestones and the simple things with my children because I worked too much, and now I miss all of that because I am sick. My mother, father, and sisters visit me daily, but I miss the big family celebrations and being able to sit with them at Sundays for the meal.”
He paused to consider his next words. Seeming to come to a decision in his mind, he leaned forward, his blue eyes piercing mine.
“Can I confide in you, Sorellina?”
I nodded. “Whatever you tell me stays here in this room between us.”
Massimo nodded once, a silent thanks. “To my family and friends, to my employees and medical staff, I am good natured. Marco hates it because he does not think I take my illness seriously, but the truth is, I am frightened. I do not want to die, especially now when my life was on the cusp of becoming exactly what I’d wanted. I do not want to leave my children, my family, and I do not want to go without seeing my first grandchild, or my niece or nephew you now carry. I am frightened my death will be long and painful, or that it will happen too fast and I will not get to say those final farewells. More than that, Sorellina, I am frightened to die while stuck in this room, in that bed, without living my last days on this earth. Maybe by choosing to join the festivities tonight, I will shorten my time. I would rather have a wonderful time tonight, for my family to remember me laughing and smiling than to remember me lying in the bed and dying. I would rather spend what time I have left living my life. Otherwise, what is the point in fighting?”
I swallowed hard. I’d complained about so much over the past few months—over the past couple years—but my life had not been confined to one room within a terminally ill body. My limitations had been set in place by me, not by something beyond my control. His confession put much into perspective for me, and it made me sad and strangely happy at the same time.
“I understand,” I managed to say around the lump in my throat.
He held my gaze for a long time before he slowly nodded. “Good. I am glad you understand, and thank you. I needed to say that to someone for some time. Now that we have that out of the way, do you have your red underwear ready?”
I blinked. “What?”
He chuckled and proceeded to tell me the Italian tradition of wearing red undergarments for the New Year’s holiday. We talked for another hour after that. The only time we paused was when he coughed. He was beginning to look tired. I was going to recommend that he take a nap before the party started, the door opened, and his whole family poured in, one by one. Roberto and his wife, Andrea, as well as Laura, Armano, and the twins, Carlo and Clarice.
I stood and watched with a warm heart as each o
f the children greeted their father with hugs and kisses. They were talking all at once, and Massimo’s eyes were lit up with satisfaction and adoration, especially when he put a hand on Andrea’s stomach, connecting with his first grandchild the only way he could. They were such a nice, beautiful family. The twins were a little more boisterous than average, but they were friendly and happy. How had they all been raised by such a vile woman? Then again, maybe she was one way with her kids and a different way to everyone else.
I looked across the room by the door where Celia lingered. She watched the children warmly, the first true sign of warmth I’d seen in her, but when her gaze swung to me, her expression cooled.
“I’ll see you later,” I told Massimo.
He grinned at me. “See you soon, Sorellina.”
It was my turn to grin. I really liked the endearment. Sorellina was Italian for little sister.
I headed toward the door. Celia watched my approach, her eyes drifting up and down my body.
My smile was barely a smile at all, but more like a grimace. “Celia.”
“Lydia,” she murmured.
Unfortunately, she put her cold hands on mine and kissed my cheeks with her cold lips.
“I can walk.” She gestured toward the main house.
“No, thank you. Stay with your family. I’ll be fine.”
She glanced at her kids and husband, and I could’ve sworn I saw a hint of sadness in her face before it cleared.
“I can walk you,” she said more firmly.
I forced another tight smile, and we walked out together. Shockingly, we were both silent for the duration of the short trip to the main house. Just outside the doors that led to the hall where the solarium was, she finally spoke, rubbing her arms in the cold since she didn’t bring a jacket.
“Thank you, Lydia.”
My head tilted to one side. “For…?”
“Per aver riportato Marco a casa, alla famiglia cui appartiene. E dove rimarrà per sempre.”
Her smile was genuine yet still bitchy before she said goodbye with another cold kiss to my cheek and walked away. I stood there and stared after her for a moment, debating on whether to attempt a Chuck Norris kick to her head. She thought I didn’t understand the language, and therefore felt free to say what she did. It took me a couple minutes during my walk through the house to translate the words in my head, and when I did, I came to a complete stop in the hallway, with half the mind to go after her anyway.
Celia thanked me for something regarding Marco and something about his family. The last part was choppy, but I got it. She’d said the word remain, or stay, and sempre meant forever, or always. I put it all together and scowled. She basically thanked me for bringing Marco home to his family, where he would remain forever.
“Fuck you, bitch,” I murmured under my breath.
I decided not to show my hand then, and silently thanked Rosetta Stone, hours of YouTube, the stack of books hidden under my bed, Italian movies on DVD, and even my sister, Lily, for all the linguistic instruction.
I texted Marco to see where he was. We agreed to meet upstairs in his room, which was fine by me. I really needed a nap, and I was aggravated and not ready to see a lot of people just yet. By the time he came into the room, I was stretched out on the bed.
“Ciao, Tesoro.”
“Hola.”
He gave me a chastising look. “That is Spanish. We speak Italian here.”
“I do what I want. I’m a rebel. What’s in there?” I gestured toward the shopping bag in his hand.
He sat down on the side of the bed facing me, grinning. “A surprise for you.”
“Is it a giant chocolate chip cookie? I could really go for a giant chocolate chip cookie.”
Marco put the bag beside me. “Take a look.”
With a sigh, I sat up and scooted against the headboard. I reached inside, moved some tissue paper around, and saw something red at the bottom. I stared at it for a moment, recalling the conversation I’d had with Massimo. My eyes shifted to Marco, one of my brows arched. His grin widened. I released another sigh and pulled out the lacey red bra and panty set.
“Seriously?”
“It is tradition. We wear read undergarments for the New Year. It brings good luck.”
I rubbed the fabric between my fingers. “Yeah, Massimo told me all about it. Do you really want me to put these on?”
His eyes heated. “Absolutely. Do you know why?”
“Why?”
He moved closer to me, put his hand on the back of my neck possessively, and brushed his lips across mine. His words came out in a whisper that sent shivers through my body.
“So I can tear them off you tonight.”
“Hmm. Isn’t that wasteful?”
“It is tradition, Tesoro.”
Massimo had told me it was tradition to throw the undergarments away the next day, but he said nothing about ripping them off someone’s body. An image of millions of women, young and old, getting their red panties ripped off across the country nearly sent me into hysterics. I laughed hard, making Marco stare at me in bemusement.
“What is funny, Tesoro?”
“Nothing, nothing.” I waved my hands and tried to calm down, but I must’ve been really tired because I guffawed again.
Marco released me from his hold and watched me, his face soft with love. That made me finally ease up.
“I love to see you laugh,” he said. “I want to see you do it more.”
I pushed my hair off my face and smiled. “I’ll try. Are the kids okay? I’m beginning to feel bad. I’ve barely seen them these past two days, even though we’ve all been under the same roof.”
“They’re fine. Martina is here with her children, so Gavin and Cora are playing with them. Mandy is asleep in the parlor. Sofia made a pallet of blankets and pillows for her in a corner and, somehow, got the mostriciattola to sleep.”
“She deserves an award.”
“Have you thought any more about taking her home with you?”
I hesitated before answering. I didn’t like the way he said that, as if he wouldn’t be going as well. “Uh, yeah. I’ve thought about it. We will have to work through some details, but I don’t mind if she comes back with us.”
“Perfect.” He kissed my nose. “We can tell her together later. You look tired, Tesoro. Why don’t you rest before tonight?”
As much as I wanted to pretend I was fine, I was too tired for all that. With a grateful smile, I put the panties and bra back in the bag, handed it to Marco, and slid back down into the bed with a contented sigh. He softly kissed my mouth twice before moving down my body to my stomach.
“I love you, little one,” he whispered to my belly.
I had to blink back tears, because Gavin hadn’t been like that. He’d liked to touch my stomach as I got further along, but he hadn’t spoken to our babies in the womb. He hadn’t kissed my belly or rested his forehead there like Marco was doing now.
I managed to fix my features by the time he sat up. After another quick kiss, he left me to my nap.
I slept for hours. By the time I got up, it was time to get ready for the night, including slipping into my red undergarments. Many of the guests were outside long before midnight. They stood out in the front of the house, drinking and lighting sparklers and small firecrackers. There were a lot more people than my first day here—more family members, more friends, and more names I’d never remember.
There was going to be a huge firework show, and according to Salina, we would have the perfect view. She and I stuck close together for most of the night. More and more, I found that I enjoyed her company. She was funny, energetic, and easy to talk to. Also, she didn’t take any of my smartass bullshit lying down and threw it right back at me.
Massimo joined the party, as he said he would. He wore a mask, and Maria didn’t let anyone get too close. No kisses, no hugs, or any physical contact. People crowded around him anyway, excited to see him up and moving. I could tell he was weak
and had trouble holding himself up, but his pride and sheer will kept him upright. Anytime Maria reached out to steady him, he subtly shook her off. She didn’t leave his side and stuck to her twin like glue until he was finally seated in an armchair where he could see the whole room and into the next.
I noticed that he constantly looked around, like he was searching for someone in particular. That was when I realized Tess wasn’t in attendance. There were so many people, and I’d been preoccupied with my kids, getting approached by just about everyone, and trying to keep my anxiety levels down, and had forgotten about Tess. My guess was that after the conversation held earlier in the day, she was who Massimo was looking for.
That was confirmed a little while later when I overheard a conversation between him and Tess’s parents, who I’d just met. I just happened to be standing close to the trio and blissfully alone for a couple minutes.
“Where is she?” Massimo’s voice was quiet and hoarse, and he coughed a few times after his question, but the demand behind his words was clear.
“She will be here for the fireworks,” Mrs. Mavros assuaged.
“Why isn’t she here now? She said she would bring Daniel.”
“She is coming. You know she couldn’t come any earlier, Massimo. It’s best if she brings him when it’s dark and most people’s focus will be somewhere else.”
Anger made his voice tremble. “Is she ashamed? I’m not. I don’t care, Margo. I don’t care who knows.”
Tess’s father returned Massimo’s ire with some of his own. “You fool. Of course you don’t care. You aren’t the one who will be looked at as a whore.”
There was a moment of tense silence. I knew I should’ve walked away at that point and minded my own damn business, but I was intrigued, and Massimo knew I was standing only a few feet away. Then again, he didn’t know I could mostly understand them.