An Accidental Christmas

by Diana Fraser

  She could hear the sound of the children’s laughter coming from their rooms, where they’d obviously retreated to play with their toys. It was a miracle they hadn’t woken her up. Carolina had obviously taken on board what Marianna had said to her, and had been acting remarkably responsibly for her age, for which Ursula would be eternally grateful. Then she turned to Demetrio.

  Quietly she rose and went around to the other side of the bed and pulled the duvet over him. He didn’t move. The hall light revealed his profile—a jawline chiseled through hard work and a determined character, and hair that was a fraction too long. No doubt he only went to the hairdressers when nagged by the female members of his family. And when they weren’t around, he simply didn’t notice. He had more important things to occupy his mind. Like keeping his world intact for future generations, like making sure his parents and siblings and their children were looked after. Like putting himself last.

  She bent over and kissed him softly on the lips. She stayed there, eyes closed, breathing him in, wanting to absorb everything about him while she still could, allowing her to love him, for just those few moments when things were simple, when she could imagine, just briefly, that they had a future.

  But that future was make-believe, and she pulled away to find Demetrio had opened his eyes and was watching her without moving.

  “Demetrio! I didn’t know you were awake.”

  His lips curved into a smile. “So you kiss only sleeping men, do you?”

  “No, I… I mean, I—”

  He reached up and put his hand on the nape of her neck, and pulled her down, close to his face once more. “Maybe you should prove you don’t take advantage of sleeping men, by kissing an awake one?”

  He cocked an eyebrow in query, and she began to laugh. He took shameless advantage of her weakened state by pulling her on top of him, putting his arms firmly around her so she couldn’t move and kissing her until she didn’t want to move.

  His mouth sought hers in a hungry kiss, which showed nothing of the tension of the past day and a half, only release. Eventually, he let her pull away but not before he’d caressed her butt.

  She shook her head. “I have only one word for you, Demetrio.”

  “Um, I’d like to know what that is,” he said, his dark eyes revealing which way his thoughts were straying.

  She licked her lips. “Children,” she said, laughing, as he fell back on the bed with a sigh.

  She rose, put on her shoes and walked over to the door, stopping only briefly to comb her hair and check her makeup. “Children,” she repeated, “who have been very good. Listen to them now. I think Carolina is reading to Tomasso.”

  Demetrio smiled and swung his legs onto the floor. “You’re right. We have a lot to do. But you’d divert the attention of a saint.”

  “I don’t want to do that; I have no interest in saints.” She paused in the doorway, scared that if she turned around, her courage would fail her. And she wanted him to know. “No interest in anyone else really. Only you.”

  She walked quickly to the children’s bedrooms. It was the first time she’d told him that he was important to her. It had seemed ridiculous after such a short time together to feel so much for someone. But she’d thought about what he’d said. How long did it take before you loved someone? Was there a set time? Nonna certainly didn’t believe there to be a minimum time. She’d only just met her husband when she’d agreed to marry him. Some things were just right. But that was old Italy, and this was not. Life was more complicated now, no matter how much one felt for someone.

  She took Carolina and Tomasso downstairs where she focused her attention on the fire which had died right down. She knew when Demetrio had entered the room before even the kids whooped and sprang on him. She felt her skin prickle under his brief gaze, before his attention turned to the children.

  After he settled them down, he came to her. “Here, let me do that.”

  “You think I can’t?” she asked softly, with a smile. The reaction to an offer of help was instinctive, no longer a real objection.

  “I know you can. You’ve kept the fire going well. It’s not easy.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I was.”

  She laughed. “So was I. I guess when you put your mind to something new, it’s not as hard as one thinks.”

  “I guess you’re right. And I guess that’s true of pretty much every new situation.”

  He held her gaze, and she knew he was wondering if she’d changed her mind. She couldn’t answer the unspoken question because she still didn’t know.

  She rose. “I’ll go and check on Nonna and get dinner ready.”

  “Leave Nonna to me. You do what you have to do. Is…” He hesitated. “Is cooking a problem?”

  “All I can say is thank goodness for Elisabetta’s recipe books.”

  “Elisabetta…” Demetrio grunted with surprise, and walked to the door. He turned, and shook his head with a smile.

  As he left the room and went toward his parents’ bedroom, Ursula wondered how she could ever have not known this man. She smiled as she heard Nonna call out his name in delight.

  After checking the children were okay, she busied herself getting dinner ready. She looked up as Demetrio brought Nonna into the living room in his arms. He placed her gently on the sofa and tucked a soft blanket around her. Ursula poured a cup of coffee and brought it over.

  “Thank you.” Nonna turned to Demetrio who sat down gratefully, looking exhausted. “I don’t know what I’d have done without Orsula. She looked after little Carolina and Tomasso as if they were her own. Didn’t you, Orsula?”

  Ursula smiled. “I certainly tried.”

  Nonna petted Ursula’s hand. “And you succeeded, cara. Now, Demetrio, tell me everything that happened. But before you do that, tell me how Lorenzo and Marianna are.”

  “Lorenzo is doing better than Marianna, to be truthful. He has bounced back much more quickly than her. She’s exhausted. Thank goodness Vincenzo has arrived, although she still refuses to go home. But she has a bed in the hospital, and now that Vincenzo is there, she is resting.”

  “And what do they think caused the fit?”

  “A virus. It’s nothing too unusual, but combined with the rash, even the doctors were concerned.”

  Nonna crossed herself. “Thank the Lord that they are all well.”

  “And you? Have you all been okay? Did the children behave themselves?”

  “They’ve been brilliant,” said Ursula. “They’ve helped me, and looked after Nonna.”

  At the sound of the table being laid, the children came running in. Ursula handed them bowls of meat and vegetable stew and roughly sliced bread. They sat at the kitchen table, feet swinging, as Carolina sang a song between mouthfuls. It was a song which Ursula had taught her. Ursula looked at Demetrio who was frowning as he tried to decipher the words. She could tell the moment he understood. He smiled to himself, and Ursula busied herself with filling the sink with hot water.

  “Do you want a hand, Ursula?” he asked.

  “No, I’m fine. You must be exhausted. Rest.”

  “Go on,” encouraged Nonna. “You go and help her. I’ll keep an eye on these rascals.”

  “I’m not that tired,” he said as he put his arm around Ursula, and with the other, squirted dishwashing liquid into the sink.

  “True. You wielded that dishwashing liquid like a fiend.”

  He grinned. “Tell me what else I can do to help.”

  “Seriously, just you being here is a great help. I mean, I managed, just, but it was quite a challenge at times.”

  “A challenge you rose to.”

  “Did you doubt it?”

  He brushed his fingers against her cheek. “If I had any doubts I wouldn’t have agreed with your suggestion to come here in the first place.”

  She kissed his fingertips. “Demetrio, you had no other choice.”

  “Well…” He grinned. “There is that.”


  “Are you two bringing me some cake, or do I have to stagger over myself to get it?” called Nonna, who had her back to them.

  “Coming,” called Ursula, flustered as she realized Demetrio’s attention had made her forget she wasn’t alone with him.

  “You take those to the table,” said Demetrio. “And I’ll finish off here. Go on, you go and sit down.”

  When she hesitated, he rested his hands on her hips and brought her close to him, his nose brushing hers. “Go, because I want you less exhausted later.”

  She went because if she hadn’t, she couldn’t have answered for her actions.

  Demetrio sat by the fire, half-listening to his mother as he reflected on what Ursula had said as she’d left the bedroom, about him being the only person she was interested in. Had she had a change of heart?

  He watched her as she moved around the kitchen, tidying up as if she belonged here. Why she couldn’t see that she did belong here, was beyond him. Time meant nothing. One week, or one year, wouldn’t change a thing. She did belong, and he only had a day in which to make her understand.

  His attention was distracted by the two children whose play had become punctuated with over-tired squabbling. He rose and went to Ursula.

  “Why don’t you leave this to me, and take the children to bed. And then go to bed yourself.” He could see faint traces of shadows under her eyes which hadn’t been there before. She looked exhausted. “Okay?”

  She stifled a yawn and wiped her hands on a towel. “Good idea.” Ursula took the children’s hands. “Come on, time for bed.”

  “I don’t want to go,” said Carolina.

  “You can look through my makeup bag again if you like?”

  “Okay,” said Carolina, unable to resist such a treat.

  “And, you, Tomasso, a story?”

  Tomasso’s thumb had already crept to his mouth, and he nodded approval. Demetrio watched them go.

  “You like that girl don’t you, Demetrio?” said Nonna, her eyes as penetrating as ever, but her lips curved into a gentle smile.

  “Yes, I do. Very much.”

  He wheeled her to her bedroom.

  “Have you asked her to marry you?”

  “Of course not! We hardly know each other.”

  “That’s nothing to do with anything. Look at your Papa and me. We knew immediately. Sure, there were things we had to work out. But who doesn’t? It didn’t change the fact that we knew, right from the start, that we were meant for each other.”

  Demetrio sighed. “It’s not that easy. You and Papa were from the same culture, the same land; you shared the same point of view on everything. Ursula? Ursula is from a different world. Believe me, Mama, she’s from a very different world.”

  Nonna made a puffing, dismissive sound, as Demetrio helped her into bed. “How different can it be? She’s a woman; you’re a man. You need to marry, come live here, and have babies. Life is simple if you don’t complicate it.”

  Demetrio sighed once more. “Here’s your medication. Do you want anything else?”

  She reached out, and took his hand in hers. “Only one thing, my son. I wish to see you happy once more.”

  “I am happy, Mama.”

  She shook her head. It seemed he’d never be able to say enough to convince her.

  He kissed her and left her with the light on, and a book at her side. But, as he turned to say goodnight, she hadn’t moved and was still watching him. He smiled, blew her a kiss and closed the door.

  With each step he took away from his mother, he knew she was right. Yes, he was content up to a point, but he couldn’t live in the past anymore. He had to move on if he was ever to find true happiness. He stopped at the foot of the stairs to Ursula’s room. One way led to his room, the other to hers. He looked up and saw her door was open. That was invitation enough for him.

  He walked up to the open door and looked inside. He shook his head and laughed. Whatever he’d been hoping for, whatever he’d been expecting, his hopes were dashed, there and then, at the sight of Ursula fully dressed and fast asleep with two children either side of her. Tomasso had his eyes open and beckoned Demetrio inside.

  Demetrio sighed and reckoned there was just about enough room.

  Chapter 10

  It was the clatter of pans from the kitchen below which awoke Demetrio. He lay for a few moments looking up at the whitewashed ceiling with the unfamiliar light fitting, then one of the children stretched, kicking Demetrio in the shin. He winced and turned to see Carolina smiling sleepily at him and Tomasso, just rousing from his sleep. Ursula was still out for the count. She must have been exhausted. His eyes lingered on her, amazed by her beauty. He reckoned he could look at her day in, day out, for years and never tire of her translucent skin, her lashes, and brows, a soft sable against her skin, now flushed with the heat of having two children draped around her.

  But there was no time to admire her now. Carolina crawled across the bed, somehow not waking Ursula, kissed him and jumped down with a thud onto the rugs, hand woven by his grandmother. “I’m hungry.”

  Tomasso wasn’t far behind her but lacked her coordination and tumbled to the floor with a crash before Demetrio could catch him. Tomasso’s grinning face showed he was none the worse for his fall.

  “Hush,” Demetrio said, bringing his finger to his lips, and indicating Ursula with his head. “Don’t wake Ursula.”

  Carolina nodded, wide-eyed and important—not waking an adult, other than her parents, was something she’d never had to do before. It was always the younger children she shouldn’t wake. Tomasso just looked at him. “Why?” he asked in a normal voice.

  Demetrio groaned and glanced at Ursula, who merely shifted into a more comfortable position. Demetrio scooped up Tomasso and took him and Carolina outside. He gently closed the door. “Because, Tomasso, she’s been busy with you guys all yesterday and last night, and deserves to sleep in.”

  Tomasso frowned as he absorbed Demetrio’s explanation. “Nonna cried the night before you came!”

  Demetrio closed his eyes briefly, saddened, at the thought of his stoic mother crying. “She was sad, Tomasso, and worried.”

  “About Lorenzo?”

  “Amongst other things, yes.”

  “But Mama told us not to worry,” said Carolina.

  “And she was quite right. Worrying is for adults, not children. Now come on—let’s go and have breakfast.” If there was one thing Demetrio understood, it was the power of food to distract children. Tomasso ran off and perched on the landing, ready to jump from step to step. Demetrio grabbed him before he could. “And let’s see how quietly we can go down the stairs.” He pressed his finger to his lips, and Carolina did the same.

  “Yes!” shouted Tomasso.

  Demetrio winced, but no sound came from Ursula’s room. He suspected she’d sleep through anything after a couple of days of caring for two confused and active kids, and one worried grandmother.

  Once they managed to get downstairs without too much noise, he opened the door and ushered the children into the warm kitchen.

  His mother had somehow managed to fire up the Aga and breakfast was already warming in the oven. “Bon Giorno!” she called out as she made caffè latte on the stove top.

  Carolina and Tomasso wandered over to the basket of toys and started playing with the dolls.

  Demetrio kissed his mother on the cheek. “Let me do that.”

  She batted him away. “I’m not dead yet. I’ve been making breakfast for fifty years, and I’m not going to stop now.”

  “Okay, you win.” He took plates and cutlery and placed them on the table and sat down. “Have you heard from Marianna?”

  “No,” Nonna replied. “Marianna hasn’t rung this morning yet. Have you heard any more news?”

  “Just last night’s text saying Vincenzo would come by to pick up the children early this morning. He should be here soon.”

  “Ursula helped pack their things. To be honest, Demetrio, I would have b
een lost without her. The kids were inconsolable. You know how worked up Marianna gets. It had rubbed off on the kids, as usual, and they were practically hysterical.”

  “She had reason to be. The last time Lorenzo got this sick, he was hospitalized for weeks.”

  Nonna grunted assent, and Demetrio knew she felt more than she was expressing. It was her way, and the way of her parents before her to be stoic in the face of adversity. “Well, thank God for Ursula, because she managed to settle them down.”

  Demetrio followed his mother’s gaze to where the two children sat cross-legged on the home-made rag rug, their dolls between them.

  “I’ll be the legal counsel today,” Tomasso said.

  “You were the legal counsel yesterday.”

  “But legal counsels have more fun!”

  “Let’s have two then.”

  Satisfied, they continued their game.

  Demetrio turned to his mother. “Since when has Barbie been a legal counselor?”

  “Since Ursula decided she would be.” Nonna turned to Demetrio, raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “I heard her telling Carolina that Legal Counsellor Barbie had more fun than Beach Barbie and that she also wore better clothes. And Ursula certainly knows how to dress a Barbie.”

  Demetrio snorted and took the tray of warm pastries from his mother. “Kids, come and have some food.”

  “Ursula should stay. Have you told her to stay?” asked Nonna.

  “I can’t tell her to stay, Mama. I’ve asked her, yes. But it’s up to her, and she’s determined to leave as soon as she can.”

  Nonna shook her head, and turned her attention to making sure the children ate their breakfast.

  They’d just finished eating when Marianna’s husband, Vincenzo, arrived on a wave of cold air. After the greetings were over, he accepted a quick espresso, and updated them on Lorenzo’s progress. Lorenzo was recovering as quickly as he’d declined. It seemed it was a combination of a virus and a food allergy which had confused the diagnosis. He’d be fine within a few days. Probably in better health than either parent, his father conceded. Meanwhile, the family was cutting short their stay in Abbadia San Alexis and returning to Florence.