by L. D. Davis
The young woman poised her pen over her little notepad, but I hadn’t even looked at the menu. We only just arrived. I opened my mouth to object, but Lydia spoke again.
“We will have one of everything,” she said, repeating my words from our long ago first date.
The young woman’s eyes met Lydia’s and then mine. “One of everything?”
“Yes. One of each item on the menu. If you have to bring them out a few at a time, that’s fine.”
While I sat there grinning like a fool, she snatched my menu from my hands and handed both to the waitress.
“You are recreating out first date,” I said.
She shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”
We tasted every menu item, and even a few items not on the menu. We took our time, eating, talking, laughing, touching, kissing…There was a lot of touching and kissing. I felt like a boy again, falling in love with a girl all over again.
Hours later we took our bag of leftovers and our paintings and headed back to the apartment, kissing in the back of the cab like a couple of teenagers. I couldn’t get enough of her, and I couldn’t keep my hands off that show of soft skin.
When we were almost there, Lydia pulled away from me, breathless and sent another text message. I raised my eyebrows.
“Is Celeste going to pop up again?”
“No.”
I studied her face for a moment. She had more planned, but her lips were sealed.
“What else do you have in store for me tonight?”
She shrugged. “Again, you will have to just wait and see.”
We arrived at our building a few minutes later. The first thing we did after we got inside was call home to check on the kids. Once we found out everything was fine and Dara was there with Rose, Lydia rushed us off the phone. I frowned at her. She used to hate being even more than a few minutes from them. I knew she still hated to be away from them, but now I was the one anxious and ready to hurry back home.
I looked at my watch. It was after seven.
“When did you want to start back home?” I asked.
“Our date isn’t over yet.”
She wagged a finger, beckoning me. I went to her, took her offered hand, and once again allowed her to take the lead. We stopped just outside the bedroom door, which made me raise my brows at her for the second time in the last twenty-five minutes.
“Why, Madam, are you attempting to take advantage of me?”
Instead of answering, she pushed open the door, and all my snarky comments fell from my mind as I took in the picture before me.
The bedroom had been transformed. The bed was still there, at the center as it had been, but it was surrounded by a canopy tent made of heavy white fabric that hung from a loop tied to a small hook in the ceiling. Soft white lights were strung around the room itself, giving it a gentle glow instead of the bright light it usually had.
Lydia walked over to the bed and pulled the fabric back to reveal what was inside the tent.
“I got this idea from your Christmas presents,” she said nervously and shrugged. “I just upgraded the tent, and of course I had to replace the candy and popcorn because they were old, but the coloring books and crayons and movies are the same. I wanted to surprise you, but it’s kind of stupid to surprise you with your own idea, right? And maybe I should’ve done this at home because it’s not like we have all night like we did before. I just…I just really liked the idea of recreating our first date, and—”
I would hear no more of her doubts and silenced her concerns when I kissed her hard. I’d been kissing her all day and still, it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
When I reluctantly pulled back from her lips, I held her face and looked deep into her eyes. My voice waivered just the slightest bit. “This. Is. Beautiful. It is perfect, and I love you so much for this day.”
Her eyes filled with tears, but she laughed and blinked them away. “Stop. Don’t make me cry yet. I’m not done. Sit down.”
I gave her one more quick kiss and did as she commanded. I sat on the edge of the bed as she left the room. I peered up at the tent, smiled at the array of candies, the coloring books, and crayons, and the DVDs I’d given her. There were lights hanging inside the tent, too, and there were large pillows that must’ve been purchased for this specific reason on the bed. It really was beautiful. I didn’t see how the night could get any better, but not for the first time, Lydia proved that it could always get better.
She came back into the room, without her cane. I was ready to admonish her for it, but I noted her hands were behind her back. I remained silent as she stopped between my spread legs. My hands went to her waist, not just to steady her, but because I was unable to keep my hands off her.
“Remember that time you held me against my will and was all macho and shit and told me you were going to tear down my walls brick by brick?”
I tried not to smile. Of course I remembered. It was in that first week I’d meet her in Philadelphia. That had been so unlike me, but by then, I was already gone, already obsessed, and enslaved by her. Completely bewitched, despite her sour disposition.
I am patient, but very aggressive about getting what I want, I’d told her. I love a challenge. I will take down your walls, brick by brick. I will find every weakness in your defenses, and I can take anything you throw at me.
“I remember,” I said, letting the smile come.
She inhaled deeply and then brought her hands around. I looked down and stared at the brick in her hands.
“Well, here it is, Marco. The last brick. The last piece of my walls, the last piece of my resistance. You did exactly what you said you would do. This is the last piece, and the first. This is the first building block of our lives, not just for you and me, but for all of us, for our entire family. The first time you took me to the cabin, you told me you could feel the love Dara and Micah had in their family, that you felt it in the dirt of the foundation and in the wood, but now it’s our turn to put love in that house, to build our own foundation. This brick, this piece of clay represents that foundation. It’s an end, and a beginning.”
With warm tears tickling my lashes, I took the brick from her. I had no words, or I had too many and was unable to express them. I cried when she’d left me in Italy. I almost cried when she came back to me. I cried hard when our babies were born, and I cried again as I sat in the magical place she’d had someone create for us and held that brick in my hands. Words and numbers were engraved on it, making it more than just a symbol, but something to actually keep and hold on to. My last name, soon to be hers, was written, followed by a date for April of next year.
“That’s our wedding date,” she whispered. “We haven’t really talked about it because I know you didn’t want to push me, but I’m ready, Marco. I’m ready to be your wife. I’ve been ready. So…will you marry me?”
I carefully put the brick down on the bedside table and stood up. She gazed up at me, waiting for my response. I pushed a strand of her beautiful fiery hair from her cheek, tucked it behind her ear.
“Of course I will marry you, Tesoro.”
Epilogue
Lydia
Three Years Later
It was a warm afternoon toward the end of summer. Rain had poured for days, and only just stopped that morning. The kids were finally allowed outside to burn off some pent-up energy. Marco and I stood in the yard, keeping an eye on the twins. They were playing a little too close to a patch of mud for my comfort.
“I don’t trust Rocco near that mud,” I told Marco.
As if he heard me and wanted to prove me right, Rocco picked up a handful of mud and smashed it on his sister’s head. Luna Ro found it hilarious. She seemed always pleased with anything and everything her twin did, even if it was at her expense.
“Rocco!” Marco barked before leaving me to go to the toddler. “Non farlo! We do not do that.”
The child proceeded to scream and kick as his father picked him up. Typical. He’d been a kickin
g and screaming terror since birth. An adorable, dark haired kicking and screaming terror.
“Come on, Luna,” I sighed, picking up my youngest daughter. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”
I put her on my hip, visually checked on the older kids and started up the brick path to the house.
The path was unique, unlike any other brick walkway I’d seen at a residence. The brick I’d given to Marco many moons ago, the one that I said was our beginning and our end, was embedded in the ground, part of the walkway. The path told a story. We’d had other milestones printed in clay and concrete. The birthdays of all five children, the date we met, our engagement day, and of course, our wedding day, and a brick for each of our anniversaries so far. The walkway was a work in progress, and with any luck, wouldn’t be finished for decades, maybe longer.
Three years, three incredible years passed since Rocco and Luna were born, and a little more than two years gone since I married Marco. Our wedding had been absolutely beautiful. We’d married right at home in our back yard, under a large tent in front of our family and friends. Thanks to Adam’s skilled surgeon’s hands, I’d been able to walk down the aisle in a low heel and dance with my husband at my reception. Of course, Celeste still showed me up by dancing better than me with Marco, but I no longer hated her for it. Much, especially since I returned the favor by shimmying on the dancefloor with Adam.
I still had a slight limp that might never go away, but I didn’t care. I was thankful I could go up and down stairs with ease, dance, walk long distances, and even jog a little. The jogging was awesome. It wasn’t the hard running I used to do a long time ago, but it was something I’d never thought I’d be able to do again. I was able to be active again, keep up with two busy toddlers, and play with my kids. It was also nice to stroll down a Manhattan street with my husband without pain. Granted, there were days I overdid it and I would ache, but it was tolerable. It wasn’t crippling pain like before.
I bathed Luna for the second time and took her into her bedroom to dress. The room was still just as beautiful and vibrant as it had been when Marco finished it more than three years ago, despite the few changes. Instead of cribs, each of the kids had toddler beds now. When they were just infants, the room was neat and tidy, but now one corner was cluttered with way too many toys and was a bit of a mess. After getting Lu in a new outfit, I convinced her to help me straighten up. Always so agreeable, it didn’t take a lot of convincing. By the time we finished and left the room, everyone had come inside.
“What do you want to do for dinner tonight, Tesoro?” Marco slipped an arm around my waist and kissed the top of my head.
“I want tacos!” Gavin called out.
“Yes, tacos!” Armano, of course, wanted what his best friend wanted. It felt like he’d been with us the entire summer. After a few years in the states, his English was great. He still struggled with some words from time to time, but hey, so did Marco and he’d been here forever.
“Can we have fish tacos?” Cora asked.
Mandy scrunched her nose. “Ew. No. I don’t want fish tacos!”
“You and I can make fish tacos another time,” Marco promised her. “Not everyone has our refined taste, polpettina’.”
“Yeah, meatball,” her brother teased.
Cora screeched in irritation and ran after her brother and cousin, right on out the door as they shouted “meatball” over their shoulders.
“Why do you call her meatball?” I asked as I went to close the door after the little savages.
“It is a term of endearment in Italy. Since she also has culinary ambitions, she is my little polpettina’.”
“What am I?” Mandy asked, grinning up at him with two missing front teeth.
He lovingly ruffled her curly auburn hair and put a hand over his heart. “Tu sei il mio amore piccolino.”
“Your heart!”
“Always,” he promised.
He’d been calling her that for years, and she’d known the definition just as long, but she was always delighted to hear it. He lifted her up like he used to when she was just a toddler younger than the twins and kissed her cheek.
“Ti voglio bene, piccolo amore mio.”
“Ti voglio bene, papa.”
When he put her down, she ran outside to join the older kids, shouting insults at the boys.
I smiled up at Marco. “That was a touching father-daughter moment.”
“Yes, during the rare five minutes she is not raising hell.”
I laughed because it was true. Mandy had been sassy and headstrong since she’d learned to walk and hadn’t slowed down in the least with age. The child received great joy from tormenting her older siblings, especially Gavin.
“So, tacos for dinner,” my husband said, fishing ground beef from the fridge.
“The twins and I can go pick some tomatoes and lettuce from the garden.”
“Sounds good, but I have an idea. We can give the children tacos for dinner, but how about you and I eat later? I can grill something for us, and we can have a little date outside by the fire after the little ones are in bed.”
I grinned. “Deal.”
There was no rush after the taco dinner. Like most weekends, Marco tried to spend as much time as possible with all of us as a family. Work kept him busy and away from home for long hours during the week, and sometimes, like the upcoming Monday, he had to travel. He promised his schedule would slow down soon, that as his business grew, he would be less involved with the day to day and leave the traveling and crazy hours for the trusted individuals that worked for him.
I had absolute faith in his ability to make that happen, because earlier this year, after years of sweat, tears, compromises, changes, setbacks, fighting and more, Marco’s Project Home was finally finished. He’d built an entire community. Hope Meadows was complete with a mini grocery store, a gym, a daycare center, a park, walking trails, a medical building, and a small movie theater. Several of his friends and colleagues played a part, including Celeste, Kyle, and Brody Herrington, but even they passed most of the credit to Marco.
When he’d taken me on a tour through single family homes, condos, apartments, and townhouses, I hadn’t been able to stop grinning. The system wasn’t perfect, but there was even housing for people with lower incomes, and they were mixed in with the general population of homes. It was as fair as it could get, as fair as could be managed.
I remembered looking at his plans so long ago. Even back then when I barely knew him, I had faith he could do it. To see his hard work come to fruition, however, and to know the homes were being purchased and rented at a fast rate, filled me with an enormous pride for him. So, I could be patient, and enjoy the time I did have with him. No matter what, I knew he would be there for any one of us when needed or wanted him.
After all the little kids were in bed, Marco and I made our way outside to the gazebo. I offered to do the grilling, but he insisted I sit and handed me a beer.
“You spoil me,” I said with a relaxed sigh.
He looked over at me with an adoring smile. “You deserve to be spoiled.”
I glanced at the tablet on my lap. For the moment, Rocco and Luna were in their beds, but I doubted that would last. The volume wasn’t up, but I could tell they were talking to each other. Soon, he would get out of bed and she would follow. Shenanigans would ensue, and one of us would have to shut it down.
“Massimo called while you were putting the twins to bed,” Marco said. “It is bad news for Armano. His father is coming to pick him up Monday.”
I grimaced. “He and Gavin are going to act like it’s the end of the world.”
He snorted. “Tell me about it. They will behave as if they have not spent nearly the entire summer together, but school starts in a couple weeks. Not only is there school shopping to do, but he should spend some time with his family. Massimo, Tessa, and the other children miss him. I imagine his mother misses him as well.”
I nodded my agreement. We didn’t know for su
re what Celia felt, though, because we rarely talked to her. She avoided us and we avoided her, but fortunately, she never tried to separate us from her children. What I did know, however, was that she had taken my advice and gotten a damn life. Not only did she get a job at a nursery with plants, flowers, and other types of growing things, but with her free time, she’d made her half acre of property into a landscaper’s wet dream.
Also, there was a new man in her life. Shockingly, he wasn’t the deep-pocketed pretty boy type I thought she went for. Lewis was a handyman in his early fifties, quiet, polite, and pretty normal as far as I could tell. I’d only met him a few times, but from what Massimo said, his presence seemed to keep Celia leveled and grounded. Massimo, Tessa, and Celia had amazingly even developed a relationship of sorts. They apparently rocked at the co-parenting thing with little to no issues.
That was great for them, but I still hated her, though I never showed that in front of her kids. However, the one time she came herself to retrieve Armano, Carlo, and Clarice, I couldn’t help but to be an asshole and gloat over the fact that not only did I have Marco and his babies, but I was living in the home she’d wanted with him. Marco had disapproved, but he got over it later that night when we were in our bedroom, alone and naked.
“Oh, that reminds me! The tee shirt I ordered for Massimo came in the other day.”
Marco shook his head. “It is not funny.”
“It’s hilarious, and Massimo will think it’s hilarious, too, and I bet you he wears it all the time.”
Again, he shook his head in disapproval. “There is something wrong with both of you.”
“Very,” I agreed.
The shirt was black with white lettering that read: “Cancer, Chemo, and Radiation, and I’m Still Sexy.” It was true. Massimo was doing well. He had a lot of challenges, but he was still with us. When I’d first met him, I’d thought—we’d all thought—he was going to die. He had believed he was dying, too, but it was hard not to believe in miracles and the hard work of medical professionals and scientists when I looked at how he’d beaten the odds against him. No one could say for sure what his future held, because cancer was a bitch, but for now, he was good, and as the shirt said, he was still sexy. Not as sexy as his younger brother, though.