by Gina LaManna
“We’re just going home,” I said. “Right? Anthony’s not coming for another hour. We’ve got time, chillax.”
“Oh, er. Right.”
“Clay,” I said, warning in his name. “We are going home?”
He didn’t answer. Just lifted me up, shoved me in the limo, and shut the door.
If I had to guess, we weren’t headed home.
** **
“Sit up and make yourself presentable.” Clay parked the car after a ten minute drive. “We’re here.”
I frowned, looking out at the familiar restaurant. Marinellos was back in business; busy, bustling, and full of life. Already, the terror from a few weeks prior had begun to vanish. “Here?”
Clay didn’t offer any additional information, except to point me towards the front door. “Go inside; he’s in the back.”
“Who is in the back?”
“This is where I leave you.” Clay did something then that was quite rare; he showed affection. He patted my shoulder. Sure, it wasn’t a full-on hug, but we were making progress. “Have a fun night, Lacey. You deserve it.”
I sighed, and with no other options, climbed from the car and made my way into the restaurant. I waved to a few guys behind the gelato counter – they knew me well. At one point in my life, they’d been numbers three, four, and five on my speed dial. Brushing past them, I headed straight towards the back of the room.
“Anthony?” I stopped in my tracks. “What are you doing here?”
He stood up from behind a table in a shadowy corner of the restaurant. “I’m ditching our date.”
Anthony looked good on the average day, but today there was something different. He wore a suit fitted to perfection with the tiniest pop of red on a tie. A tie? Standing with his hands clasped behind his back and his hair combed, his face was smooth and his dark eyes shone a brilliant shade of mocha.
“For you,” Anthony said, smiling as I opened and closed my mouth a few times. From behind his back, he withdrew a single, beautiful sunflower in full bloom. “I almost went with roses, but this reminds me of you more. I hope it’s okay.”
“Okay?” My voice cracked. “Of course it’s okay.” I gave a light laugh, and the two of us stood there with just enough awkwardness to warrant a few stares. “But…it’s your birthday. I’m supposed to be giving you the present, but I’m afraid my present is at home in the oven.”
“How about you stop talking and come give me a kiss.”
The sweet floral scent of the sunflower drifted around the air next to us as he gave me a lingering peck on the cheek, his touch easing my awkwardness.
“Come upstairs with me,” he whispered.
“What is this all about?” I linked my arm in his as we climbed the stairs. “Also, the rooftop is cold. You know it’s February, right?”
He didn’t need to answer. When we reached the top, I could see for myself what he’d planned. There on the rooftop sat a table for two decked out with wine glasses, gorgeous place settings, and two bowls of rapidly melting gelato. The romantic table was surrounded by heating pillars glowing orange with flames.
“Can I tempt you with dessert first?” Anthony twirled me into his arms, doing one circle of a pseudo-slow dance before pulling my seat out, and gesturing for me to sit down.
“We can’t let this go to waste.” I dipped a spoon into the gelato. But Anthony moved faster than I did, holding up a spoonful of rich, nutty chocolate. I closed my eyes and savored it.
When I opened my eyes, Anthony’s forehead was pinched with concern. “I hope you don’t mind that I made other plans.” He set down the spoon. “I wasn’t trying to ruin your agenda, I’m just not into birthdays. They’ve never been my thing, and I’d prefer to celebrate you and I together, instead of just me.”
“Well, since it’s your birthday, we can do whatever you want.”
Anthony smiled. “Good. Because I have a list of things I want to accomplish.”
“You are one organized birthday boy.”
He laughed. “I don’t like the idea of you having to stress over making plans or cooking. That defeats the purpose. I want to celebrate together and that’s it. No stress. Nothing complicated. Just fun. Does that sound okay?”
All of a sudden, a waiter swooped by, out of nowhere, whisking away my half-full cup of gelato. I gave him a hard side-eye since I wasn’t finished, but I was proud that I didn’t lunge after it.
“I saw you eyeing that,” Anthony said. “Do you want another round?”
“You were imagining things.” I clapped my hands. “Let’s see this list of birthday To Do’s.”
“What makes you think I have it written down?”
“Do you?”
Anthony smiled, then reached into the breast pocket of his suit. Carefully, he unfolded a crumpled piece of loose-leaf. Before he spread it on the table before me, I knew what was written on the sheet. I had it memorized.
“My mom’s bucket list?” I looked up. “Where did you get this?”
“I hope you’re not upset. When Meg was over for movie night a few days ago, she poked this towards me and said you might need some help finishing this list.” Anthony blew out a breath of air. “If you’re up for it, I’d love to tackle a few of these tonight.”
“Anthony, you don’t have to—”
“I’m hoping we’ve checked off two items, already.”
I scanned this list. “Which two?”
“Well…” His eyes gleamed. “I brought you flowers and I promise to leave a good tip for our server. Does that make me a nice boy?” He winked, his eyes twinkling in a cocktail of playfulness, so delighted with himself that I couldn’t help but grin.
I pressed a finger to number eight: Ditching class. “Earlier tonight, you said we were ditching my agenda. Since I’m not in school, we’re ditching plans instead of class.”
“Bingo.” Anthony waved at himself. “So, do I look nice enough?”
I pretended to size him up. “No, but that’s okay. Nice is overrated.”
“Oh, I’ll show you nice.” Anthony stood up so quickly the silverware clattered to the floor, and before I knew it he had his hands on my waist and his lips a centimeter from mine. “Tell me I’m nice.”
“You’re plenty nice,” I mumbled, fanning my face as an embarrassed looking waiter approached and deposited fresh silverware, along with the appetizers, onto the table. “Behave now, before we get kicked out of my grandfather’s favorite restaurant.”
“I’ll do my best.” He smiled, sitting back down and sizing up the appetizers. “But I’m not making any promises.”
** **
“Alright,” Anthony scanned the bucket list again as we finished up dinner and made our way back downstairs. “You need to smile at a random person. Go smile at him; he’s random.” Anthony pointed towards a grandpa as ancient as dust over in the corner of the restaurant.
Having gotten a glass or two of red wine in me, I puffed up my chest with confidence and strode over to the counter. I purchased some fresh cannoli, then waltzed over to the grandpa in the corner. “Here you go, sir. On the house.”
I gave him the hugest smile I could muster while Anthony displayed a thumbs up from the corner.
Fifteen minutes later, Anthony helped me into a limo waiting out front, and this time, we had a real driver who wasn’t my cousin. Along with the real driver, came a real bottle of champagne.
“Can we get the window up, please, Gerard?” Anthony nodded to the driver. “You know where to go.”
“Very good, sir.” Gerard rolled the window up, then eased the limousine into drive.
“He’s much better than Clay,” I said, picking up the bubbly and handing it to Anthony. “Shall we?”
He popped the cork and poured two glasses full. “What are we drinking to?”
“To your birthday. Uh, how many years old are you?”
“I’m nine.”
I frowned before it clicked. “Funny. Nine real birthdays, so that puts you at thirty
-six-ish?”
Anthony smiled. “We’ll go with that.”
“And your last name?”
He winked. “I feel like we’ve gone so long without you knowing, anything I tell you now will be anti-climactic.”
“It’s a last name, it’s not supposed to be the eighth world wonder!”
“You really want to know?”
I blinked. “Yes.”
He leaned over, and whispered a name in my ear. “What do you think?”
I whispered it aloud, trying it on for size. “Not bad.”
“Let’s finish this toast, so we can drink our champagne.”
“To you. Happy birthday, Anthony.”
We clinked glasses, each of us sipping in silence.
“So, where to?” I asked, after testing his name out a few more times in my head. “What’s next on your agenda?”
“You are about to find out.” Just then, the car stopped for a second, and I could hear the driver get out of the vehicle, close the door, and then return a few minutes later. My confusion grew as we pulled into a dark tunnel.
“This is safe, right?” I tried to squint through the windows, but it was too dark to see.
Anthony shrugged. His shrug was interrupted by the loud, unmistakable sounds of a touchless car wash pelting against the vehicle.
“A car wash?” I pressed my nose to the window looking out. Sure enough, soap bubbled on the windows and twisting, turning arms reached for the car. “The driver decided to take us through a car wash?”
“I had him buy the deluxe version,” Anthony said. “To give us a little more time.”
“Time for what?”
Anthony took both of our champagne glasses and set them on the ground. Then without words, he pushed me back until my head rested against the seat. When his lips were within inches of mine, he whispered. “You have to kiss a bad boy in the rain. The weather didn’t cooperate today, so I had to make do. Does this count?”
I sucked in air. “You’ve thought of everything.”
“I wanted this to be special.”
“There’s one problem.” I waited a beat. “You haven’t kissed me.”
Then Anthony kissed me until he couldn’t possibly kiss me anymore. His lips tugged mine, his fingertips trailing teasing patterns up my bare legs. He kissed me until I had no air left to breathe, and when the hum of the dryer started on the other side of the car wash, my dress was disheveled.
“That was good,” I said. “Really good.”
“So good it was bad?”
I smiled. “Very, very bad.”
After we drove away from the car wash, Anthony pulled out the loose-leaf once more. “There’s a few things left on the list. Are you up to keep going?”
“Bring it on.”
Anthony raised his glass. “To your mom. I think I would have really liked her, judging by this list.”
I caught myself by surprise, resting a hand on his wrist and bringing down the glass of sparkling liquid. “Wait a minute, Anthony.”
“Everything okay?”
“I…I don’t know.” I looked down. “I don’t know how to say this.”
“Just start talking, and we’ll go from there.”
“I feel guilty.”
“For?”
“I miss my mom a lot.” I blinked back the sting of tears, cleared my throat, and continued. “I have, ever since she died. But over the course of this past year, something’s changed.”
Anthony’s hand rubbed my neck with gentle, soothing motions.
“I feel guilty because I don’t think about her as much. When she first passed away, there were days I couldn’t get out of bed because it felt like the soul was draining out of my body,” I said. “My chest would cave in on itself, and I suffocated. Anthony, I couldn’t breathe, I missed her so much.”
His hands traced robotic circles on my back.
“Eventually, that feeling faded a little bit. I went back to work, I found the Luzzi family, and I kept on living.”
Anthony brought me to him, his touch gentle as a butterfly, as he danced a light kiss across my forehead.
“Then we started dating. And ever since I’ve been with you, ever since I’ve come to know and love Nora, Clay, you, and Carlos, the sadness keeps fading. I think about her often, but not in the same way,” I paused. “I’m really happy now. I enjoy my life. I love my friends and family.” I glanced up. “But I don’t want my memories to fade away to nothing.”
Anthony slid his arm around my shoulder, and we sat like that for a long time. Eventually, he drew me closer. “The memories of your mother will never fade away. You’ll hold onto and cherish the good ones forever. You’ll share them with your children, and their children, and she’ll live on in all of our hearts.”
I swallowed, leaning still closer.
“But she wants you to be happy. I can tell you that much for certain, and the best thing you can do to honor her memory is to live your life just the way you are. Bring your warmth into the world. Laugh a lot. You’re a sunflower in a world where there are so many weeds choking out the blossoms. You’ve got to let your colors show, Lacey. You’re special, and you’re unique, and the world is brighter because you’re in it. Keep reaching for the sun, the brightness, the sparkles, the happy, because there can never be too much good.”
I sighed, the weight of days and months and years of grief slowly evaporating from my shoulders. Though all the sadness might never go away, that was okay, because a little sadness went a long way in the grand scheme of things. Without the bad, there’d never be the good. And I had a lot of good sitting right there in front of me.
** **
After checking off a few more items from the list, Anthony stretched in the back of the limo and folded up the piece of paper. “I think we’ve done enough for today. Next stop is home.”
“Yes, well, we have at least one item left.” I winked, then blushed. “I haven’t slept naked yet.”
Anthony’s eyebrows shot up faster than a rollercoaster. “Well, Happy Birthday to me.”
I laughed as the driver pulled up the driveway, past the estate, and finally came to a stop in front of our house.
“I have one thing left to show you.” Anthony put his hands on my shoulders as we got out of the car. “Don’t freak out.”
“I never freak out.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.” He winked, then spun me around. “Go read the card.”
I was expecting something drastic. However, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary except for an unfamiliar car in our driveway. Behind it, our house sat in near darkness, only the glimmer of the kitchen light burning inside. “Do we have company?”
“Not really. Go a little closer.” Anthony pushed me another step forward. “And read the card.”
“The card?” I took one step closer, and this time, the light from inside the house glinted off the license plate. “Anthony!” I looked first at him, then back at the vehicle. “You didn’t.”
He smiled. “What do you think? I was hoping you’d be okay with a his and hers theme.”
I took slow steps forward, running my hands over the exterior of a gleaming white Audi. Brand new, for sure. The paint glimmered, the interior looked spotless…and the license plate. The license plate was the “card” Anthony had mentioned. Custom-made and rimmed with a sparkly frame, one word was inscribed in blue writing on the Minnesota plate: SUGAR.
“I…I love it! But I can’t accept it; it’s too much.”
“I knew you’d say that,” Anthony moved forward, unable to hide his grin. “So I took care of that, too.”
“What is that?”
“Carlos had a pile of money ready to go, just in case someone asked for a ransom in exchange for the girls. Lots of money.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, you haven’t gotten a bonus yet in all your time at Casa Luzzi. After your incredible work finding Marissa and Clarissa, I thought it might be time for Carlos
to show his appreciation.” He smiled. “I mentioned it to your grandfather, and he agreed. Consider this a perk of the job. If you don’t like it, we can exchange it.”
I blinked. “I don’t know what to say. Except that I love it!”
“I’m glad you’re okay with it,” Anthony said. “Because I made some modifications that would prevent me from returning it.”
“Like what?”
“Some GPS tracking improvements, a fire-retardant coat of paint, and a custom marshmallow dispenser on the inside.”
I sat down in the snow. “I’m overwhelmed.”
He joined me on the ground. “Good. I want you to be.”
After a few minutes of silence, he made a move to get up. “I don’t want those beautiful legs of yours to get frostbitten,” he said. “Let’s continue the celebration inside.”
“Sounds good, birthday boy. Come on, we’ve got to check that last item off the list.” I stood up and tugged at Anthony’s arm, pulling him towards the house.
But he didn’t stand up. He didn’t move at all.
“Coming?” I winked.
“Lacey, I lied. That wasn’t the last thing I had planned for tonight.” Anthony cleared his throat, and his hand shook in mine. His fingers trembled, and he couldn’t make eye contact. “There’s one more thing.”
I gave him a half-smile. “Okay, well let’s go inside. After I test out my new marshmallow dispenser.”
“No, Lace. This can’t wait.”
I turned back, my hand still clasped in his, the waver in his fingers making my heart speed up. Then, he moved to one knee. He looked up into my eyes, his expression so tender, so vulnerable that my heart leapt into my throat. It pounded. Iciness ran through my veins, paralyzing my body. I don’t remember if I uttered his name or not, but I must have because he looked up.
“On your bucket list, there’s one item at the bottom. It says, ‘Say yes to something when you want to say no’.” He cleared his throat. “I want to ask you something, Lacey, and I hope you’ll say yes.”
My nerves were on high alert, and if the temperature wasn’t next to freezing, my palms would have been sweating.