Say Yes

by Celia Juliano

  Lita had never experienced such a Christmas. Sophia loved the holiday as much as Lita and her house showed it. The mantel, stair rails, window sills and doorframes were festooned with greenery and bows, the tree covered in lights and ornaments, a colorful nativity set graced a sofa table, even the kitchen and dining room had little touches: mini trees, figurines, and special dishes.

  Lita would have eaten more, but she talked so much she couldn’t. Besides, every time she glanced at Lorenzo, her body one moment settled in surety only to jump the next second in uncertainty. They snuggled together on the loveseat after dessert, excused from clean up. As Lita fingered Lorenzo’s arms and hands, she knew. She did have another present for him.

  Lorenzo drove them home in Uncle Enzo’s car. She sat in the backseat alone, fluffing her new dress. He glanced at her in the rear view mirror while Uncle Enzo talked. Finally, after the longest five minutes of her life, they arrived home. She went in first, put her purse on the table under the key hooks, and waited. They said goodnight to Uncle Enzo.

  “Walk me up?” she asked as Lorenzo moved toward the kitchen. He nodded and took her arm in his.

  When they reached her door, he kissed her, his goodnight kiss. She kissed back, letting her open and eager mouth tell him what she wanted. He stopped and studied her.

  “It’s Christmas,” she said. “You have another present to unwrap.”

  He smiled and led her into his room, shutting the door behind him. In the mellow light pricking through the curtains, Lita found his mouth and kissed him. With each kiss, her head lightened and tingled. Soon, she tugged and tore at his clothes purely out of instinct, of the need to feel his skin on hers. Yet he moved so slowly she almost screamed. She sucked his neck as he unzipped her dress. Gently, he moved her away so he could help her step out of it.

  Seeing him in only his briefs slowed her. She regarded him with new eyes. Yes, he was the sexiest man she’d ever met, but he was a man in love, desperately in love with her. His eyes made her believe that, the truth she hoped for but hadn’t trusted until then. Did he know, really know, how much she loved him? They stared at each other, their eyes roamed over each other’s bodies, touching each spot tenderly.

  He undid the straps on her heels and slid them off. She steadied herself on him as they moved to the bed. She sat on the edge while he leaned over her, caressing and touching. She hardly realized he unhooked her bra until he freed her from it. He took in a sharp breath. She moved to cover herself but met his eyes first. Complete delight lit his expression. She smiled. Together, they slid up into the bed. He hovered over her, alternating his gaze from her face to her breasts. Meeting her eyes, he exhaled.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t,” he said. He lay next to her. “I want you to trust me, to feel safe. I want to give you what you need.”

  “You do,” she said.

  She kissed him. Down she moved from his lips, neck, chest, down. She slipped her hands under him and pulled off his boxers. Her mouth opened in astonishment.

  “You don’t have to,” he said.

  She grinned and touched him. She explored and yanked, caressed and jerked. Keeping her hands on him, she kissed him. His low grunt spurred her to envelop him in her mouth. She slid up and down, licking and sucking, moaning and smiling with him. She gripped tighter, glided faster and slower, then faster as he groaned her name. Power and pleasure surged through her before settling, hot and moist, where she truly wanted him to be. She squirmed before her eyes widened at the sudden warm fluid in her mouth. She tasted him, a bit salty and strong, but satisfying. Except not. She burned so hot all she needed was for him to make it stop. She kissed her way back up and brushed herself over him, hoping to renew his arousal.

  “I need you,” she said.

  “I know what you need,” he replied in a low whisper.

  He slid out from under her and pulled on his boxer briefs. In a swift, gentle move, her panties were gone. Their eyes met before he looked her over, smiling. His fingers tantalized then comforted, tormented then soothed as he explored her. When his mouth found her nipples, already hardening from his touch, he acted as if she was the human candy cane she’d teased him with that morning.

  She ran her hands through his hair and moaned his name. She opened herself to him, forgetting anything but him and her own need. His fingers again rescued her from losing consciousness, though as he circled and pressed on her, her eyes rolled back and she gasped. His thumb stayed on her special spot while his fingers moved inside her and she panted, desperate for air, for release. He licked and nipped her ear and she screamed, feeling for a moment she would faint. Instead, a deep breath filled her lungs and she contracted against him, so slick his thumb slipped. She sighed, a deep, satisfied exhale. He moved his hands and pulled her into his side. She kissed him before snuggling into him.

  “I love you,” she breathed out.

  He kissed her hair. “I love you.”

  The room darkened and she drifted to sleep, snug against his solid frame.

  A gasp woke her. Lorenzo sat up, his breathing shallow. She hugged him. His back was sticky with cold sweat. He lay down and Lita positioned herself next to him. He gazed at her, his pupils as dark as the room. Putting a hand behind her neck, his mouth took hers. She leaned into him. She began to lose herself in him. He rolled onto her and kissed her neck, her chest, quickly and fervently.

  “I can’t lose you,” he said. He didn’t stop.

  “You won’t.”

  “Prove it,” he whispered.

  She froze and pushed at him. The pleasant fluttering in her stomach turned to a sickening hollow. He flopped onto his back and put an arm over his eyes. She found her panties and pulled them on as she slid from bed. She gathered her bra and dress and walked out, shutting the door on her way.

  After almost an hour tossing and turning in her bed, she rose and went back. Lorenzo wasn’t like her other boyfriends, guys who’d taunted her with similar words to confirm her feelings for them. Knocking lightly, she listened. No sounds. She peeked in. Lorenzo stood by the window, his head cradled on his arm, looking out at the cityscape, warmly lit by the moon and lights. He turned as she padded across the carpet. She ran into his arms.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she said.

  “Neither could I.”

  “Can I stay?” she said.

  He nodded and they again snuggled in bed. When he held her, she was safe. Her eyelids became heavy and she let herself relax in the warmth of Lorenzo’s embrace.

  When Lita woke, the morning light gleamed through the partially drawn curtains. Lorenzo glanced at her.

  “I can’t do this, Lita.”

  “What do you mean?” she said. They both sat up.

  “I think I should move back to my apartment.”

  “I’m sorry.” He was her safety net, her harbor in a storm. But what she could give him wasn’t enough.

  “Me too,” he said, getting up. “I’m heading out to the gym. See you later?”

  “Okay. I’ll be here.”

  She padded to him and put her hands on his chest, kissing him. He pulled away and went into the bathroom. She walked to her room and shut the door.

  When she scuffed into the kitchen, two notes on the chalkboard told her Uncle Enzo and Lorenzo both went out. She glanced at the clock, surprised it was almost lunchtime. She must not have realized she wrote in her journal for so long, though her hand got sore, and she did take a prolonged bath. She didn’t want to be alone anymore, so she called Sophia, who invited her over.

  Though she, Sophia, Carlo, Janetta, Joe, and Pete talked about Christmas and everyone’s plans for the new year, Lita noticed the glances between Carlo and Sophia. They knew something was wrong--they knew her well. As they finished lunch, the doorbell rang. Carlo answered. Within moments, his voice joined Lorenzo’s in shouts and accusations.

  “Are you kidding?” Carlo said after the first few volleys.

  “You’ve been trying to get her away from me since the first day
you met her.”

  “As well I should, if you’re going to act like this.”

  “Where is she?”

  Lorenzo’s measured tread followed Carlo’s heavy steps. Lita stood as they entered. She frowned and hurried into the living room. Sophia and Janetta joined her. Lorenzo appeared a moment later. She faced him.

  “How could you say those things to Carlo? I only came here for lunch. No one was at home.”

  Janetta snorted. They turned to her. “Maybe you shouldn’t be getting married. If you’re afraid to be alone, you should work on that, take a self-defense class.”

  Lorenzo opened his mouth, but Lita held up her hand. “Actually, Janetta, I’ve taken those classes and I’ve been home by myself plenty. But I like it that Lorenzo is concerned about me, though he could be less dramatic about it. I like to be around other people, I prefer not living alone. I know everyone isn’t like that, but I am. Does that bother you, or do you not want me here taking up your family time?”

  “The more the merrier. Well, drama king, what do you have to say for yourself?” Janetta said.

  All eyes were on Lorenzo. The clinking of dishes and glasses from the kitchen broke the silence.

  “I say Lita told you, sour lemon.”

  “Is that the best you can do?” Janetta said with her hands on her tiny hips.

  Lita giggled.

  “I have better things to do now,” he said. He walked to Lita, folded her in his arms, and kissed her until Sophia and Janetta’s footsteps echoed down the hall.

  “Too bad that doesn’t work every time,” he said.

  “You’ll stay, won’t you?” She wanted more time alone with him. “At home?”

  “I can’t. Last night was great, but it’s not enough. I can’t sleep with you every night if you expect me to keep my promise,” he said.

  She hugged herself. Footsteps and voices loomed close. She tried to smile, but her lips wouldn’t cooperate.

  “We’ll figure it out,” she said. She swallowed to unplug her ears as the words repeated: not enough, not enough.

  14

  “Uncle Enzo and Celeste are so happy,” Lita said as Lorenzo drove her back to Sophia and Carlo’s.

  They’d spent the crisp, late March morning at church for the ceremony then attended the reception at Vittorio’s. Uncle Enzo and Celeste were on their way to Italy for their honeymoon, where she and Lorenzo would go in two months for theirs.

  Lorenzo nodded and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. She missed how he used to drive one-handed so he could hold her hand. The last time he’d done that was Valentine’s Day, over a month ago.

  “Lee seemed preoccupied. Things okay at work?” she asked.

  “Fine. I think he likes Janetta.”

  “Like -like? She’s not his type and she was flirting with Vincente.”

  “That you noticed? You like Vincente, huh?” His voice had a sharp edge.

  “Yes. So do you. What about Lee?”

  “Does he have a type?”

  “No, I guess not. It’s just…she’s so sarcastic.” Kind of like Lorenzo sometimes.

  “And Lee doesn’t like that?” Did he just roll his eyes?

  “Do you?” she said.

  “Sure, I like…”

  All kinds of women, that’s what he was going to say. She hugged her arms, then rubbed them, pretending she was cold.

  “Didn’t you bring a sweater or something?”

  “No. It doesn’t matter, we’re here.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay at home? I could--”

  “I’m sure,” she said as he parked the car. “Why? Did Janetta say she doesn’t want me here?”

  “No. Carlo and Sophia want you here.”

  “They said that?” These people, her family, gave her so much love, it still amazed her.

  “They love you like another daughter.” He sounded resigned.

  Lita felt the little crease in her forehead. She smoothed the spot.

  “I love them too.” She blinked, she didn’t want to cry. It had been a happy day and she and Lorenzo were going out dancing with Janetta and Pete later.

  Lorenzo walked her to the door and kissed her, a gentle peck. “I’ll pick you up at nine.”

  Lita swallowed, an effort, nodded, and went inside.

  Right before nine, Lita twirled and modeled her dress for Janetta. Sophia and Carlo had gone out, so Janetta was the only one available. She laughed, but this time Lita didn’t feel as if she laughed at her, more like she was amused by Lita’s excitement. Lee sometimes did the same thing.

  “You look great,” Janetta said. “Like a brunette Sandra Dee in one of those fifties movies my mom likes.”

  “Thanks. You too, that’s a cute top.”

  Janetta obviously wasn’t afraid to look sexy, with her sheer lacy blouse, red bra, and short black miniskirt. She didn’t look slutty, but when Lita tried to wear something like that, she felt too self-conscious. So much for being sultry Sophia Loren. The lyrics from the song in “Grease” blared in Lita’s head: “’Look at me, I’m Sandra Dee, lousy with virginity…’”

  Lita slung her tiny black evening bag onto her shoulder when the doorbell rang. Her shoes tapped a quick beat on the hall floor. He was here. Opening the door, she stopped and stared a moment. She had no idea how he could look more handsome than he had at the wedding, in his dark suit, white shirt, and navy tie, but he did. He knew what worked for him, as it was almost a uniform: black modern loafers, dark flat-front slacks, and a dark V neck sweater, cashmere or soft merino wool.

  Mush, she was a lumpy mush, warm but unpleasantly chunky. She felt ungainly and pudgy next to Lorenzo, who was sophisticated and sleek. He kissed her cheek as Janetta stood behind her, waiting.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  Lita nodded and walked carefully, trying not to puddle at his feet.

  She lightened on the dance floor, though sometimes when Lorenzo’s eyes bored into her, the heat of him scorched her and she lost the beat of the music. Pete met them at the club and there were plenty of other distractions, though it was hard to take her eyes off Lorenzo. Still, she and Janetta had to pay attention to Pete, dragging him onto the dance floor. He’d broken up with his girlfriend in January and he was still upset. But then Lorenzo would touch her arm or waist and nothing else could claim her attention.

  After over an hour, they found a table to have some drinks. She excused herself to go to the ladies’ room while Pete got their drinks.

  When she returned, no one was at the table. Janetta stood nearby, in front of the hall to the back door. Lita walked over. She blinked and clutched her purse. Lorenzo kissing…Tamara. Lita put her hand over her mouth, but it didn’t stop the sour taste rising in her throat. As Lita turned, Janetta saw her and her eyebrows shot up. Lita ran and bumped into Pete.

  “Take me home?” Lita said as he steadied her. She hoped she wouldn’t have to open her mouth again.

  He glanced over her shoulder, nodded, and led her out.

  She leaned her cheek on the cool window of Pete’s Toyota pickup truck.

  “Do you want to talk?” he asked as he drove along Folsom.

  Lita shook her head. Freeway ramps crisscrossed overhead, the streets grey and dark.

  “If you don’t mind, I will.” Lita nodded. “I know Lorenzo can be…difficult.” A sound issued from Lita’s throat. “But I’ve known him my whole life and I’ve never seen him happier than he is with you. I know he isn’t all the time, but, I just thought you should know. Knowing him, he doesn’t say it, even though it’s been obvious for the last two years.”

  “It has? Did he tell you?”

  “Thanksgiving before last. But I knew when he took care of that guy who’d been bothering you.”

  “Rich?” Lita touched her throat. “He put Rich in the hospital?” Lita lowered her voice so she wouldn’t sound surprised. She’d heard Rich had an accident before he left town.

  “Sorry, I thought you knew.”

>   “Uh-uh.” She fiddled with the clasp on her purse.

  “I guess now we know why I don’t talk much,” Pete said as he pulled up in front of Sophia and Carlo’s.

  “I like talking with you, Pete. Thanks for everything.” She managed to give him a smile.

  He patted her hand. “You want me to walk you up?”

  “No thanks.” She opened the car door and stepped out into the cold.

  “I’ll watch until you go in. See you tomorrow?”

  Lita nodded and ran up the stairs. She took a deep breath before she entered the house, hoping to freeze the burning coursing through her.

  “Lita, Janetta? Is that you already?” Sophia called from the living room.

  “Just me,” Lita choked out. Carlo appeared at the end of the hall.

  “Where’s Janetta?”

  “With Lorenzo.” Whatever flimsy support propped her fell and she crumpled. Carlo caught her and half-carried her into the living room.

  “What happened, sweetheart?” he said.

  Sophia stood and helped Lita sit on the couch. She gasped for air as she sobbed. Sophia hugged her. Carlo’s heavy tread scuffed across the carpet. Lita glanced at him as he paced. She leaned into Sophia’s shoulder and found her handkerchief in her purse, which was still clutched in her hand. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Carlo sat with them.

  “Can you tell us what happened?”

  “He kissed…” The image flashed. She wept.

  “He kissed another woman?” Carlo said. His voice held a threat. Lita nodded. “Christ. He’ll never change.”

  Lita groaned.

  “Carlo,” Sophia said in warning.

  “Don’t,” Lita whispered. She didn’t want anyone else upset by her problems.

  “Hot cocoa?” he asked.

  Lita cried on Sophia, who now held her handkerchief for her. Lita couldn’t grasp anything. She felt Sophia nod. Carlo rubbed her arm and rose.

  Lita tried to sip the warm chocolate he brought in, but the tears kept coming. The front door opened and Carlo trotted into the hall.

  “What the hell happened?” he shouted. Lita still cried, but quietly now. “Lita says you kissed another woman, not that she could say even that much the way she’s crying.”