The Single Dad and his Soul Mate

by Rebecca James

  “Give it to me good!” A squawking voice called out, and I hesitated in confusion before looking toward the cockatiel’s perch by the window even though the sound hadn’t come from that direction.

  Isaac made a face. “Ignore that, please.”

  “That wasn’t Fred,” Matteo voiced my thoughts. Blaze was laughing.

  Isaac shook his head.

  “Yeah, baby!” Another screech, definitely coming from the kitchen.

  Isaac sighed. “One of Gus’s friends died, and we’re keeping his parrot until we can find him a new home. Happy upsets the animals down at the shelter, and he and Fred hate each other, which is why Happy’s in the kitchen.”

  I had no idea who Gus was, but evidently Happy was the parrot.

  “Harder!” the bird squawked, and Isaac’s cheeks grew pink.

  “Gus’s friend must have been a wild one,” I said, trying not to smile.

  “He may have picked up a few phrases since he’s been here.” Dante had a shit-eating grin on his face. He wrapped his arm around his husband’s shoulders.

  “Love you in lace, baby!” Happy could sound surprisingly lecherous for a bird.

  “Shut up!” Isaac yelled toward the kitchen. “Jesus, Dante, we’ve got to find that damn bird a home. Would you cover his cage or something, please?”

  “What happened to my animal-loving husband?” Dante teased but headed toward the kitchen.

  “Lace?” Matteo raised a brow at Isaac, who said, “Shut up,” and smacked him in the chest before walking away.

  “Ouch.” Matteo touched his chest with feigned hurt.

  “You deserved that,” I said.

  In the living room, Zeke’s husband Morgan lay in a recliner holding a pillow to his stomach and looking miserable.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Ate too much,” Morgan said on a groan. “So much food. Never ever eating again.”

  “Morgan’s used to grazing on greens and sprouts.” Isaac flopped down on the couch next to Dante, who had returned from the now-quiet kitchen. “There’s plenty of food left if you’re hungry, by the way.”

  “God, no. I ate so much at my friends’ house, I can’t imagine ever being hungry again. Cooper might be though. He was too busy playing to eat much. Coop!” I called to my son, who was rolling around on the floor with the dogs. “Want me to make you a plate?”

  Cooper sat up only to have the hound lick his face and knock him over again so the smaller, fluffier dog could pounce on him while the terrier ran around barking.

  “Banjo! Butch! Angel!” Dante said sternly, and the dogs scrambled to their master’s side.

  I picked up Cooper and carried him into the kitchen where the counters were covered with dishes of food.

  “Turkey, please,” Coop said when I offered that or ham. “And a roll.”

  “You have to eat at least one vegetable. Broccoli casserole, or Brussels sprouts? Oh, or green beans.”

  “Spouts,” Cooper said.

  “Sprouts,” I corrected, spooning some onto a plate with the turkey and roll.

  “Sp-er-outs,” Cooper repeated. “Can I watch that?” he asked, pointing to the television mounted on the wall.

  “Sure. As long as you eat. Come sit at the table over here.” I used a couple of big cookbooks as a booster seat and got Cooper situated facing the TV before turning it on and finding a kids’ channel.

  Matteo walked in as Cooper shoved two pieces of the turkey I’d cut up into his mouth, eyes fixed on the TV.

  “Mm, that looks delicious,” Matteo said.

  “Use your fork, Son.” Coop obediently picked up his fork only to shove a Brussels sprout into his mouth with the other hand. Matteo and I shared a look, and Matteo grinned.

  Matteo placed a slice of pumpkin pie on a plate then crossed to the refrigerator and took out a can of whipped cream. I watched as he squirted a huge amount onto the pie.

  “Wanna bite?” he asked, holding out a forkful to me. I opened my mouth, and he slipped it in, our eyes meeting and heat sparking between us before I quickly looked away.

  “That’s really good,” I said, licking whipped cream from my lips.

  “Isaac’s a great cook,” Matteo said, voice like a rumble of thunder.

  “He really is, but I made that pie.”

  I turned to find Nick standing in the archway between rooms. He wore a slim, brown suit made out of some slippery material with a sheer shirt beneath it that showed off his well-toned torso. In two-inch heels, he still wasn’t as tall as his boyfriend, who came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Nick.

  “You bought it at the local bakery,” Jeo said.

  Nick tried to elbow Jeo in the side, but the tight hold the biker had on him prevented it. Jeo flashed a white smile, his dark Brazilian looks contrasting beautifully with Nick’s pale skin, dark hair, and big blue eyes. They were a stunning couple.

  “Would you stop telling everyone that?” Nick snapped, trying to wiggle away.

  “Not everyone has to be a good cook,” Jeo said. “You’re good at other things, babe.” He kissed Nick’s neck, and I had to smile at the way Nick melted against him. Then Jeo whispered loudly, “Like sucking my cock,” and Nick stomped on his foot.

  “Fuck!” Jeo took a step back, then made a swipe for Nick, pulling the smaller man into his arms and kissing him.

  “Get a room,” Matteo said.

  “Says the man who was just eye-fucking over a forkful of pie,” Nick returned before breaking away from Jeo and approaching me with a smile. “What a nice surprise.” We hugged.

  I looked over at Coop, who was still staring at the TV, evidently too absorbed in the show to notice the profanity.

  “Last minute decision,” I explained to Nick. “I had dinner with Gloria and her wife and friends.”

  Nick had met Gloria before when they’d both been at the shop at the same time. They’d gotten along like a house on fire.

  Nick cut his eyes to Matteo, who was watching Jeo peek under the towel covering the parrot’s cage.

  “Are you two back together?” Nick whispered.

  “Not exactly.”

  Nick’s eyes widened at me in an Oh, my God way.

  “Where’s my Viagra?” the parrot squawked.

  “That phrase did not come from our house!” Dante yelled from the living room.

  “What’s vagg-ra?” Coop asked, the cartoon having ended and his attention back on us.

  Nick slid into the chair beside him at the table. “It’s a vitamin.”

  “Mine are Incredibles,” Coop said through a mouthful of mushed up roll and sprouts.

  “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” I said.

  Leaning over his plate, Coop pushed the mangled green and white blob out of his mouth with his tongue. “The green Incredibles vita-mims are my favorite.” He tried to slide off the books he was sitting on, and Nick reached out to help him down.

  “Gonna play with the dogs!” Coop called to me as he ran out of the room.

  “Dante’s got a small dick,” Jeo said softly to the parrot, then repeated it twice.

  A loud squawk was followed by, “Call the cops!” and then, “Let me spank that ass!”

  “Christ, cover that bird back up.” Nick stood from the table and took Cooper’s plate to the sink.

  The back door opened, and Caleb, Zeke, Cane, and Tony walked in, smiling and greeting me and Matteo when they saw us.

  “Where’d you guys disappear to?” Jeo asked.

  “We took some food to Mick and then helped Caleb walk the dogs at the shelter,” Zeke said, closing the door. “Fuck, it’s gotten cold out there. Think it’s gonna snow. Where’s Morgan?”

  “Lying on the recliner, moaning about eating too much,” Nick said.

  Zeke scoffed. “He only had like a piece of turkey and some green beans.” He headed for the living room, and a moment later I heard Morgan squeal.

  Strains of a Pink Floyd song brought Matteo’s phone out of his pocket as I t
urned to help Nick put the last few dishes into the dishwasher and turn it on.

  “Okay. Thanks, Maria. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I heard Matteo say. When I turned to look at him, he shoved the phone back in his pocket and said, “Nonna’s not feeling well. I need to go.” He frowned. “Sorry to bring you all the way out here only to leave. You could stay, but we took your car.”

  “Take my bike.” Jeo handed Matteo a ring of keys. “I left it here the other day and was going to ride it home.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  I followed Matteo through the living room where he said goodbye to everyone and out to the foyer where he pulled out his jacket out of the closet and put it on.

  “What’s wrong with your grandmother?” I asked when he turned to me at the front door and kissed me softly.

  “I’m sure she’s okay, but Maria sounded worried.”

  I frowned. “Who’s Maria?”

  “Oh, right. She’s a friend from church. She ate with us and then stayed to talk to Nonna after I left. She said Nonna started complaining about a stomachache. It was probably the rhubarb pie. But Maria sounded worried, and it isn’t her job to watch over Nonna.”

  No, we both knew whose job that was, and the thought seemed to hang in the air between us.

  Something made me ask, “She’s a friend of your grandmother’s?”

  “Um yeah. Of both of ours, I guess.”

  “Oh,” I said, realization dawning. “A fix-up.”

  “No. It was just Thanksgiving. We’ve already been through an awkward date at Nonna’s suggestion months ago. Maria just came over because she had nowhere else to go for the holiday.”

  “You don’t have to explain it to me,” I said a little woodenly, all the old feelings welling up inside me. Jealousy. Resentment. Irritation bordering on anger. I told myself to chill because it didn’t matter anyway. Not anymore. Nothing had changed.

  Matteo took my hand. His was rough and warm and sent tingles down my spine.

  “I wish I didn’t have to leave. I really am sorry. I was looking forward to spending the evening with you.”

  So hire a nurse. Or put Nonna in a nursing home.

  I didn’t like myself for those thoughts and took a step back, trying to smile.

  “Coop’s having fun. We’ll stay awhile and then go home. Let me know what’s going on, though, okay?”

  Matteo nodded, smiled, and closed the gap between us again, his chiseled features and musky aftershave making my heart flutter. Deep brown eyes searched mine, and then he kissed me deeply but quickly.

  “We still on for tomorrow night?” he asked.

  I nodded, and Matteo grinned before letting himself out of the house.

  I listened to Jeo’s bike rev and then drive away, before turning back toward the living room. Cooper was still romping with the dogs, so I visited with everyone for a while, accepting a glass of wine from Isaac, knowing a slice of pie and coffee later on would cancel out any buzz I might get going. An hour went by. I got up to go to the bathroom, Nick followed me in and shutting the door behind us.

  “Uh, excuse you,” I said, lifting the toilet seat and unzipping my pants.

  Nick waved his hand in a never mind gesture and leaned against the counter.

  “Tell me what’s going on with you and Matteo.”

  The lead weight that had hit my chest when Matteo had left made it difficult to breathe naturally. The wine had only helped a little.

  “Nothing. I mean, nothing lasting. In fact, I’m going to tell him it’s over.”

  I flushed the toilet.

  “Really? Have you two been sleeping together?”

  I glanced at him while zipping up. “Yeah.”

  “I could tell from the way you acted on the Fourth that it really hurt you to see him again. Must have been a bad breakup. I was surprised you’d gotten back with him. And now you’re ending it?”

  “Yeah, well, Matteo’s a bit like crack to me. I can’t resist him.” I moved past Nick to wash my hands at the sink. “I thought for a split second that things might be different now, but they’re not. He’s still in the closet with his grandmother and stuck to her butt like a wart.”

  “Wow,” Nick said.

  “The whole thing was a bad move on my part. I knew what I was getting into.” I glanced at him. “Like I said—crack.”

  Drying my hands on a towel, I wilted a little. “I’d just missed him so damn much, you know?”

  Nick nodded solemnly before putting his arms around me. The hug felt good. Nick was a good friend, and I hadn’t been trying with him just like I hadn’t been with Joey.

  “Want to go Christmas shopping with me next week?” I asked. “If everything works out, I’m putting Coop into a morning care program a few days a week.”

  Nick’s eyes lit up. “I love shopping!”

  I couldn’t help but grin. “I know you do.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Matteo

  When I entered the house, Maria met me in the front hall.

  “I’m so sorry to bring you back here, but I keep thinking appendicitis.”

  She appeared worried, her fingers absently playing with the long silver chain around her neck.

  “What makes you think that?” I asked. “And thank you for staying with her until I could get here.”

  “No problem at all. She’s very sweet. And I appreciated the two of you inviting me to Thanksgiving dinner.”

  I’d had nothing to do with it, of course. I had a sudden flash of Flynn’s face when I’d told him about Nonna being ill. I knew what he was thinking. I was leaving him for her. I really wasn’t surprised he still resented her. I couldn’t blame him exactly. But sometimes it felt as though he’d never taken the time to try to understand. And then he’d gone and figured out about Maria.

  Maria touched my arm, expression sympathetic. “She’s complaining of pain on her right side. And it’s tender to the touch. That’s why I thought about her appendix. Maybe we should take her to the hospital, just to be safe.”

  “I will, but you go home. You’ve been a huge help already, and I can handle this.”

  Maria’s lips curved into a small smile. “I can help her change and drive you to the hospital. A cab would be uncomfortable, and, frankly, I can’t see her riding bitch on your bike.”

  That surprised me into a laugh. It was probably unfair of me to have assumed she was as straight-laced as my grandmother.

  “Thank you.”

  In the end, I was relieved to have Maria’s help; Nonna was uncooperative with me, and Maria had better luck with her. She worked quickly, and when she called me back into the room, I picked up Nonna from the bed.

  “Matteo, I can walk!” Nonna complained as I helped Maria wrap the blanket around her.

  “I know you can, Nonna.”

  Carefully, I carried her outside to Maria’s red Mazda CX-3, Maria locking up and hurrying behind us.

  “This is not necessary,” Nonna said crossly. “I’m fine.”

  “I’d rather carry you,” I said. Maria opened the door of the car. Before Nonna could say anything else, I added, “It’s a little like Nonno carrying you over the threshold after your wedding, huh?”

  “That was into the house, not out,” Nonna complained, but her voice had softened. “It almost feels that way. You are so like him.”

  She’d told me dozens of times about her wedding. Shown me pictures of it and of the little house by the sea that my grandfather, Angelo, had bought for her. When he’d been struck and killed by a car a decade later, Nonna’s aunt and cousin had convinced her to join them in America, finding Nonna work in a sewing shop near the Catholic school my father would attend.

  “And poor Maria,” Nonna said as I buckled her into the passenger seat. “The two of you should be talking over coffee, not taking me out into the dead of night because of a little stomachache.

  “It’s not even ten yet, Nonna,” I said. “Not the dead of night. And we can’t take any chances tha
t you don’t have appendicitis.”

  Nonna made an irritated noise. “It’s not that.” But the next moment, she winced in pain, and I met Maria’s gaze before she started the car and got the heater going. With her hazel eyes and dark hair loosely failing over her shoulders, I thought of what Nonna had said about the two of us having beautiful children, and for a moment, I entertained what it might be like if we married—bought a little house and filled it with dark-haired children. A normal life. Not passionate. Not filled with the love and light I might have had with Flynn. But the kind of respectable life Nonna wanted for me, with plenty of sons to carry on the Costa name.

  Hell, Maria liked Nonna—she’d probably let the old woman live with us. I’d have it all.

  But not Flynn. I wouldn’t have him.

  As soon as I was in the back seat and had the door closed, Maria carefully pulled out of the driveway. It had begun to snow, tiny flakes covering the windshield, forcing her to turn on the wipers.

  Nonna let out a whimper, and Maria said something comforting as she shifted into drive and took us down the street, headlights slashing through darkness, brightening the quickly falling snow.

  ****

  The hospital emergency room smelled of antiseptic and vomit. I pushed Nonna in a wheelchair, Maria beside me, having refused to drop us off at the entrance and go home as I’d tried to get her to do.

  Once we got into the cubicle and a doctor had examined Nonna and taken blood, he announced she needed to have her appendix removed immediately.

  “We can use laparoscopy, which will lower the danger of complication and infection, but at her age, every medical procedure is considered dangerous,” the woman told me.

  “I understand,” I said.

  I’d felt as though I’d only just sat down with Maria, each of us with a cup of coffee and some crackers from the machine, when a nurse came out to tell me the procedure was over and Nonna was in recovery.

  Maria’s smile was huge as she leaned in and hugged me.

  “There. She’s all right.”

  I tightened my arms around her a moment before letting go, the rose scent of her perfume lingering in my nose.

  “Thank you so much for all you’ve done.”