Finally, the day came. He would see her. As he paced his room, he stopped at a knock on the door. Vincente entered. Lorenzo invited him to sit on the sofa chairs by the fireplace, which sat cold and unused since Lita moved out.
“How’re you doing?” Vincente said.
“How’s Lita?”
“I hear she’s okay. Celeste said she asked about you.”
“Doesn’t mean she forgives me.”
“Everyone else forgave you, right?”
“Grudgingly, except Lee. None of it will matter if…” Lorenzo stopped and stood, rubbing the heart necklace in his pocket with his fingertips.
“She loves you. Anything is possible.” Vincente rose and squeezed his shoulder.
Lorenzo nodded. Before he knew he had no faith, now he simply didn’t know. He knew he would do what Lita wanted and he would live through it, his heart whole even if it hurt.
After Vincente left, he lingered upstairs. He thought he might be sick, his stomach roiled, his palms sweaty, fine beads of perspiration across his brow. He paced their bedroom, went into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face, and changed his sweater again. Some of Lita’s clothes hung in the long closet, all color coordinated, her shoes in neat rows. He ran his hands over her clothes, feeling the soft sheen of cottons and silks, the fuzzy softness of cashmere and merino wool. She would be downstairs. He had to see her.
Walking slowly down, her twinkling, sweet laughter came from the bright, crowded living room. Without a sound, he made his way to the doorway. He stood still and searched for her. She sat giggling with Michael D’Angelo. For the first time, Lorenzo didn’t feel the sudden grip of jealousy.
He studied her. She wore her black and pink dress. She still needed to gain a few pounds to be back to her former curves, but her face sparkled, her dark hair shone, her skin smooth and almost back to its usual burnish. The firelight played on her back. He blinked. For a moment, a flash, he swore he saw wings, tiny and incomplete.
She must have sensed him staring. She turned to him and her smile faded. He felt someone had punched him in the stomach, but he stood still. Celeste called everyone in to dinner. He turned and walked into the dining room, sitting where Celeste told him to.
He glanced down the table at Lita. Lorenzo pushed his food around his plate and wondered how he could talk to her. He was about ready to get up, grab her, and carry her upstairs, but then he would catch Lee and Carlo surveying him with an angry spark in their eyes and he resolved to wait. Finally, after dessert, some of the extended family started trickling out. Uncle Enzo told Lorenzo to follow him to the kitchen.
An ambush: Lee and Carlo sat at the table while Sophia, Celeste, and Lita finished putting away the dishes. He wished his dad could be here, but there had been a crisis at the restaurant. Uncle Enzo sat at the table and motioned Lorenzo to do the same. As he did, Janetta entered and sat next to him. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled.
“Lita, won’t you sit here, my dear?” Uncle Enzo said, pointing to the chair next to his, directly across from Lorenzo. Sophia and Celeste joined them. Everyone glanced at each other, until Janetta spoke.
“So, Grandpa Enzo, do you and the men have a pronouncement to make? Decided Lita’s future for her?”
“Lemon blossom, you know that is not my intention.”
“Maybe not yours, but I think that’s what Lee has in mind.”
“No one will decide anything for me. But thanks, Janetta,” Lita said.
She wouldn’t meet his eyes. Lorenzo fidgeted with his coffee cup. Its milky, sweet scent uncreased his forehead but it wasn’t much when his whole body clinched with tension.
“I’m not trying to run Lita’s life. I’m trying to protect her,” Lee said.
“By having Lorenzo followed?”
“What?” a few of them said at once.
“I thought it would be easier if I had proof.”
“And?”
“I didn’t get any, but it’s only been a month. Maybe he knew he was being watched.”
“I didn’t. I’m not going to cheat on Lita. I know you won’t believe me, Lee, and I don’t blame you. But it only matters if Lita believes me.” Lorenzo stared at her, willing her to look at him. She blushed and glanced at him. There were tears in her eyes.
“I don’t know.” She crossed her arms on the tabletop and buried her head in the crook of her elbow. Lorenzo pushed his chair back and went to her. He knelt beside her.
“Leave her alone, we’re not done,” Lee said.
“Yes, we are,” Uncle Enzo said.
“Enzo, don’t you think--” Carlo began.
“I think they’ve both done enough. We’ve had our say. Leave them be.” He rose. Lorenzo glanced up at him. Uncle Enzo stood tall again. He strode out last, Celeste on his arm, giving Lorenzo a wink before letting the door shut behind him. Lita leaned up, her head on her hand. He sat next to her.
“What do you want, Lita?” he said, trying to sound calm.
Lita gazed at him, a tear slid down her arm. He ran his finger along the track it left. She shivered but her eyes stayed on his. “I want to believe. I want to know what you want.”
“I want you. I want you to come home. I want to earn your trust back. I want to never sleep apart again. I want to start a family someday. I want to walk out of this kitchen with you, like Uncle Enzo did with Celeste, behind our children and grandchildren, still in love after fifty years.”
“You’ll try to boss them all around like Uncle Enzo, too.”
“I’ll persuade them to cooperate, you mean.” She giggled and lifted her face to him. He smiled. “I love you.”
“I love you.” Lita squeezed his hand.
“You’ll come home?”
“I will. But I don’t know if I’m ready…”
“We can pretend we’re just engaged again.”
“I don’t think we need to get that extreme,” she said. A sly smile flashed as she stood.
“Will you help me take care of this again?” he asked. He held the necklace out to her.
“Yes, we’re in this life together.” They draped it around her neck and redid the clasp.
Lorenzo held her hand and kissed her. “I missed you.”
“Me too.” She smiled and returned his kiss.
They walked hand in hand into the living room. The sofas looked cushier, the walls creamier, and the fire brighter, the color had come back to everything.
“Well?” Uncle Enzo asked from his seat next to Celeste. The room became hushed.
“I’m coming home,” Lita said. Uncle Enzo smiled. Lorenzo hadn’t stopped.
“Lita, are you sure? Have you really thought about this?” Lee said, coming over to them.
“Yes.”
“Really? What makes you think he won’t cheat again? He’s not the same anymore. He’s lost control. Think of the situations he’s put himself in. If Gianni hadn’t caught him, what do you think would’ve happened? You think he would’ve used protection? What then? Have you thought of that?”
Lorenzo gripped Lita’s hand tighter. He wouldn’t let go this time. The room was so quiet he heard Lita swallow, heard his own heart beat faster.
“But that didn’t happen. I have to believe, Lee. I love him. I choose to believe.”
“You’re too naïve, sweetie,” Lee said, shaking his head.
“No, Lee, she has faith,” Celeste said. “Thank God, we all have hope again.”
“I don’t,” Lee said.
“I’m sorry,” Lorenzo said. “You’ve been my brother when I didn’t have one, my best friend when no one else would talk to me. I know you feel betrayed. I won’t let it happen again. I don’t expect you to believe me, but I hope you can accept that Lita and I are together. We’re family. We need each other.”
“Please Lee,” Lita said. “You’re my big brother.”
“Sometimes people make choices we don’t like, but if we love them, we have to let them, within reason, of course,” Carlo said as h
e gripped Lee’s shoulder.
“But this isn’t reasonable.”
“Love isn’t,” Janetta said.
Warmth rushed through the room, the fire popped, smiles beamed on his family’s faces. Lita dropped his hand and hugged her brother.
“I’ll try, for you and Janetta, I’ll try,” Lee said.
Lorenzo exhaled as Lita came back to him. Lee looked at him, not with friendship, but not with anger. Talking started, some came and hugged him. Someone placed a steady, broad hand on his back. His dad stood behind him, smiling. He hugged Lorenzo and Lita together before going to Janice. Vincente appeared behind them.
“I called Nick. Knew he wouldn’t want to miss this.” Lita hugged Vincente and Lorenzo clapped him on the back.
They stood talking. Lita leaned into him, their arms intertwined. Lorenzo’s body warmed, from the inside, and relaxed, each muscle released with every smile, with every calm word, with every soft touch.
“So, when’s the wedding?” Lorenzo teased Janice about her new ring as they stood in the living room. Lita and Joanna laughed in the foyer, putting on a Frank Sinatra CD, cajoling the family to dance.
“Ha ha. It’s an Oprah engagement, you know, forever engaged, never married.” She and Lorenzo watched everyone in the foyer. The older couples danced sedately while Nick twirled Lita around and Joanna swayed with Pete.
“Come on, Lorenzo, let’s go,” Janice said, pulling him into the crowd. She grabbed Nick and Lorenzo took Lita in his arms. Almost everyone danced now, and, as Lita sang boisterously along with “I Love My Wife,” others joined in, giggling and hamming it up.
Even Lorenzo sang along, whispering in Lita’s ear as he held her close. “’But just in case you couldn’t guess, or hadn’t heard, or didn’t know, I love my wife, I love my wife, I love my wife…’” he trailed off as she gazed up at him before smiling.
“You’re no Sinatra,” she said.
“I hope not. One wife’s all I need.” He kissed her, enclosed in her wondrous softness.
Their family chatted, some lingered into the kitchen, still hungry, while others sat around, laughing and snuggling. He and Lita chose the latter.
They stood together at the door, he, Lita, Uncle Enzo, and Celeste, watching Sophia and Carlo get into their car, the last to leave. He shut the door, still smiling. His face was sore. He wasn’t used to smiling this much. Uncle Enzo and Celeste hugged them, wishing them a Merry Christmas and goodnight. He and Lita turned off the lights and walked upstairs together, stopping to look at the pictures, exchanging memories. He showed her the baby’s room. A few tears escaped and he thought he’d messed up, but when she kissed him he knew he hadn’t.
“That little angel looks just like I imagined he would,” she said as she gazed up at the mural near the ceiling. He held her for a long time. She looked up at him, her eyes sparklingly tender, her fragrance surrounded him. “You’re the best, the only, man for me.”
He smiled wider; she took his hand and led him into their room.
Later, they lay in bed, sleepy eyed, their breathing rhythmic and steady.
“Life’s full of little miracles, isn’t it?” she asked as he stroked her hair.
He paused for a few moments, feeling her warm softness, her breath tickling his neck. He remembered that first night they’d spent together, how he never thought they could be together like this, how Lita forgave all his mistakes, how they made love again tonight as if it was their wedding night, full of tenderness and fire. How he watched her earlier as she sang, her beautiful, glowing face, her silliness, how she had become a part of them all, how even Carlo and Lee accepted them, how incomprehensible it was that he loved her more than ever.
“Yes, it is,” he said. His Christmas wish came true. He held Lita tighter. He finally believed.
About the Author
Celia Juliano learned to read at the age of two, beginning her lifetime love of books, especially those with a happily ever after. She grew up believing in fairies, angels, Santa Claus, and the true love of an Italian prince. Now she writes about everyday angels and Italian American men…as well as other stories of relationships, minor miracles, and happy endings. A native Californian, she lives in the San Francisco Bay Area.
For more information, including recipes and news of The Everyday Angels series (featuring the D’Angelos and the DeGrazias), please visit http://www.celiajuliano.com
Thank you for purchasing this book. Celia loves to hear from readers. She can be contacted at [email protected] or you can find her on Goodreads, Twitter (celiajuliano), and Facebook.
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