The Affair (The Relationship Quo Series Book 5)

by Nicole Strycharz

  They all laughed.

  We had fun, playing games, eating, gift giving. Giada was glowing the entire time, her youthful face bright with hope. Looking at the fullness of her belly, I did feel a cloud set in over my head. I despise the flatness of mine. The emptiness, but then, Danny, Lorenzo’s youngest niece sat in my lap and distracted me. Just for a moment.

  “So,” Giada stood, looking awkward getting out of the chair, making us laugh again. We had all brought our chairs in a circle around hers, the aunts, her grandmother, her friends. She sat near the far wall, gifts surrounding her in heaps. “Ma,” she beckoned her mother. “Come over here.”

  Lavinia frowned. “Why me? I had eight of you, I don’t need a shower.”

  “Just sit down, Ma,” Donna yelled.

  Lavinia narrowed her eyes at her daughters but then came to sit.

  The front door opened and in came a few of the men. Liam, Lorenzo, Rocco, and Angela’s guy. They stayed in the doorway mostly. Though the baby shower was technically over, we were not quite done.

  Giada pulled another chair and sat beside her mom, taking her mom’s hands. “Mamma,” she began. “You’re the heart of this family. The home. You love us the way no one can, and you are just the same with all our kids. I know this is a little weird. Me being the baby and all,” she laughed a little. “But I couldn’t have been more blessed to have a mother like you. Now, my kid’s gonna have a Grandmother like you.”

  Her mother’s eyes filled, her cheeks reddening. “What are you doing to me, Piccola?”

  “You got all these kids, all these grandkids, I’m giving you another one… And as important as the family history is, you and Nonna are the only ones that know it well enough to pass it on.”

  Giada grinned. “Until Lydia, anyway.”

  “Lydia?” Lavinia looked my way, and my heart pounded nervously.

  Mia got up and went to the dining room table, where hidden underneath was a box. She picked it up and brought it to me. Danny flinted off to sit with Angela. I Lifted the box and set it in front of Lavinia, kneeling to open it before her.

  I stopped to look up. “I never want to overstep. This is something that can be undone if you don’t approve. Your family has come to mean a lot to me. You’ve all been a light at the end of a very dark, and narrow tunnel. Knowing where we come from, having roots, legacies, are all things that can fade and be forgotten. It’s people like you that never stop caring about them. Guarding them. That’s how they stay alive.” I put my hand on the box. “Your children come from two distinct and rich ethnicities. Both lines have stories and memories. Each person in your past offers us some kind of strength from yesterday that we need to carry into today. That’s why I did this… It’s a Grandmother’s work to tell stories. Hopefully, this will make it more fun.”

  His mother’s tears bought out my own, though I’ll admit, I’m terrified that my deed will be rejected. It was a risk to do it, but there’s no turning back now.

  I opened the box and tilted it so she could see.

  There were two stacks of scrapbooks, one for her husband’s side, and one for hers. I lifted hers first and presented it.

  Her tears caught in her throat, as she held her cheeks to cool the heat of emotion there.

  “Your mother,” I looked back at Lorenzo’s Nonna. “She told me the stories, I wrote all of it down inside, explaining each of the photographs…”

  “But how?” Lavinia asked.

  “I translated,” Giada told her. “But I think Lydia is on her way to speaking Italian.”

  We laughed together through the tears.

  “How?” Lavinia took the scrapbook and placed it in her lap, gently turning each page.

  “We stole your shoe boxes,” Angela said.

  Mia nodded. “And Nonna agreed to help. Lydia’s been working on these since Thanksgiving.”

  Lavinia picked up the second book from the top of her husband’s side. The cover was Cibo Degli Dei on its grand opening. She fanned herself, then held her chest. “My heart is… this is too much, oh, my goodness.”

  Her reaction lifted my spirit. “Was this alright?”

  “Alright?” she repeated. “Darling girl, this is… far more than alright. This is… a priceless gift. I am… I cannot even speak.”

  “A first,” said Rocco from the doorway.

  They all laughed at him, his mother waved him off, but Lorenzo was watching me. The raw surprise mixed with admiration was so intense that I looked away.

  His Nonna came and held my shoulder.

  The aunts wept with smiles.

  “Grazie,” Lavinia told me, holding my hand and squeezing. She pulled me forward and held me close, kissing both my cheeks.

  I’ve never felt like I belonged, not like this. It feels like I should have been born into this family…

  Maybe I should have.

  Chapter Twenty

  LYDIA

  Apparently, Probation Officers have powwows…

  Yeah, no, that’s a lie.

  Noah says he’s going away for four days. Leaving Thursday, returning Sunday evening or Monday morning. There is supposed to be a Probation Officers Appreciation Retreat.

  At this rate, I think my husband could write the next bestseller. He’s that good at storytelling, now.

  Even more frightening, there was a time when I would have believed him, without question or doubt. Today, when he told me, it was hard not to just burst out laughing. It wasn’t easy to nod with big eyes, and high brows, and say, “That’s fantastic, you deserve this, have fun.”

  Probation Officers Appreciation Retreat.

  Okay.

  Sure.

  Probation Officers are some of the most underappreciated, unsung heroes of our time, and they sure as hell don’t have retreats.

  He’s going away with her.

  At coffee with Lorenzo the next morning, we sat in our usual silence, looking out the window, listening to the Italian music playing softly from the corners of the restaurant, and the gentle trickling of water from the Neptune fountain.

  When we were done, and he stood to get everything up, he halted, about to pick up my cup. “Let’s get out of the city.”

  I slowly smiled. “So, bossy,” I sighed. “Why? Where?”

  “Ruby and Noah have plans, let’s make plans.”

  “It’s a little last minute, they leave in two days and were probably plotting— I mean, planning for several.”

  He shrugged, broad shoulders depicting how little he cared about timing. “Things are taken care of here. I would need to open and close these next two days to make sure of it. Not a big deal.”

  I was ahead of schedule with my last scrapbooking job, and I couldn’t think up a good enough excuse to say no. “Noah will have the car.”

  “We’ll ride my bike.”

  “The motorcycle?”

  “sì.”

  I pinched my earlobe. “I can’t ride that. I only have dresses and skirts.”

  “Get jeans.” He took up my little cup and saucer. “It’s the twenty-first century, girls wear pants now, and no one gives a shit.”

  I kicked him playfully from under the table, but he only laughed low in his chest. “Where would we go?” I asked.

  “Leave it to me.”

  “We have to be back before Ruby and Noah.”

  “They are gone four days, we will be gone two, three at the most.” He made a rumbling sound in his chest. “And you are good at being sneaky. With your sneaky scrapbooking projects.”

  “I thought that if I told you, you might spill the secret somehow about your mother’s gift,” I defended.

  He gestured to himself. “Me? You sayin’ I’m not good at keeping secrets?”

  I laughed at the obvious. Our entire friendship was built on one. I laughed until I snorted.

  “That’s a terrible noise,” he laughed.

  “I can’t help it.”

  “Anyway, you in or you out?”

  I bounced the ball of
my foot on the floor. “Alright… Andiamo.”

  “Eh, listen to you,” he pointed at me, walking backward to the kitchen. “Speaking Italian, now?”

  “Addio…” I waved.

  “Addio…”

  LORENZO

  I stood outside Lydia’s place, a few hours after Noah and Ruby had left. Leaning back on my bike, I thought about a couple of nights before.

  I won’t tell her that I fell into an old habit recently. Going to watch. I saw Ruby and Noah meeting, making love. It’s not fucking anymore. I know the difference. I know how her body moves when she’s in love.

  But I didn’t feel the rage I normally experience. The warning in my veins to stop looking, else I go in and violently separate them. I didn’t feel that, but I wasn’t numb, either.

  I don’t know what I felt.

  When I heard the door to Lydia’s house open, I sat up and looked approvingly at the denim-clad legs. “Molto bella.”

  She dropped her one pack on the sidewalk and put both hands on her hips. “That better mean something positive.”

  “It does. How does it feel?”

  “Weird. Very weird. Your sister lent them to me.”

  “Which one?”

  “Giada, these are her pre-maternity jeans.”

  Makes sense. She’s the only sister I have that was narrow. All the rest are curvy. “They look good on you,” she wore them with a faded gray t-shirt that was fitted and tucked into the tops of her new jeans with a thin brown belt. Her long hair was in a braid, laid over her shoulder. I was surprised to see this much of her. She was always so covered up and hidden, but today, I could make out her shape, her curves…

  “Is that all you packed?” I asked, looking at the pack.

  “You said to pack lightly.”

  “I never knew a woman to obey that command. Get on from the left. The left,” I snapped when she started walking around.

  I got up to show her the helmet and jacket she would wear. Just before putting them on, she lit up. “Hey, guess what?”

  “What?”

  “I figured something out.” She stepped back and announced her new discovery. “You… are my Ride or Die.”

  I picked up my own helmet. “Someone watched the Fast and the Furious.”

  “I did,” she said proudly as I got on. “And I didn’t close my eyes during the sex or violent scenes.”

  I let out a low whistle, as she held my shoulders to straddle my bike.

  “I’m serious,” she said. “We have each other’s backs. We’re Ride or Dies.”

  “Okay, fine, now listen to me. You have to hold on, understand?” I deliberately growled the instruction to make her listen. “No Jack on the bow of Titanic, bullshit. It’s not like the movies, you’ll die.”

  She giggled.

  “Are you listening?” I asked.

  “Yes, I just like it when you get all grumpy. You used to scare me when you did that.”

  Great. I’m no longer effective.

  It took us roughly four hours to arrive at our destination. The scenery flew past us in a blur, fresh air whipping around our senses, sweet aromas as the Earth readied for summer. Lydia rode well, obeying my instruction and keeping herself well rooted. The further we got from the familiar, the freer we became.

  When we parked and took off our helmets, Lydia looked about ready to faint on the gravel.

  “You took us to Geneva on the Lake?”

  “Get your stuff.”

  “But… but…but…”

  “Come on.”

  “We don’t have reservations.”

  “I know a guy, who knows a guy.”

  “But, but they cost like… a lot of money.”

  “I never said you would have to pay; it was my idea.”

  She grabbed my shoulder, standing on her toes. “But it’s Geneva on the Lake!”

  I understand her awe of the place. It’s a majestic location. The resort is a sight. Nester House is a breathtaking structure, reminiscent of Roman Villas.

  Inside, we made our arrangements. With one suite being large enough to have two bedrooms, we decided to share, but I saw the squirming in Lydia. The hesitance.

  Our room was more like an apartment. A foyer, sitting room, loft, balcony overlooking the lake.

  “Is this how Italy looks?” she asked, coming from behind me, where I stood on the balcony. “I feel like if I let myself, I could pretend I was just flown to Europe and dropped here.” She gazed at the bright green lawn, so sharply shaped and kept. The triangular trees, the bursts of colorful flowers, the low-cut hedges, the gazebos.

  “Italy is different from here,” I told her. I put my hands in my pockets and set my shoulder to the wall. “You can’t compare it. Apples and oranges. Both fruits, but different colors, different tastes, different textures.” I nodded. “But this is very beautiful.”

  We appreciated the view for a time.

  “What now?” she asked me.

  I put more of my back to the wall. “We have fun.”

  LYDIA

  “I said to bring a swimsuit, not a robe,” Lorenzo commented as we headed to the giant pool.

  “I did!”

  He eyed me and then my kimono.

  “It’s underneath,” I revealed.

  He opened the gate to the pool for me and we set down our things. There were only two other people here, and I was glad.

  “You can’t swim,” he surmised, adjusting his sunglasses.

  “I can swim. I have a suit on underneath.”

  “Show me.”

  “I…” I wet my lips. “I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because… I wanted to know what it was like to wear a two-piece. Hence, why I bought one. Now I know.”

  “How do you know if you won’t take off the coverup?”

  “Because I’m still wearing it. Not everyone has to see it.”

  Here comes the smirk. “You still aren’t wearing it if it’s under a blanket. What’s the difference between a two piece and underwear?”

  “Exactly,” I turned his words. “If I take off the kimono, I’m technically just wearing underwear and that’s not appropriate. But I have to say, it’s really pretty. It’s white with a sunflower print.”

  He laughed, stripping his t-shirt.

  I averted my gaze, on everything but him. The sky, grass, water, the perverted old dude in a lawn chair. Ew.

  When I snuck a peek, Lorenzo was going through his bag, distracted so I could look.

  Lorenzo’s body is perfect. No wonder he doesn’t mind showing it off. He’s olive-skinned with a golden undertone, and the flat disks that are his nipples, are a dark brown. When he moves, even slightly, his skin pulls tight over the muscle.

  “Getting in?” he asked me.

  My eyes bounced from his chest to his eyes. “Um, I will sit on the edge, here, and dip my feet.”

  He swung his arm to the pool. “Ladies first…”

  “Grazie,” I smiled and took a step, but then I felt a pull and then a breeze. I looked down at myself. Then I screamed. “Lorenzo!” I turned on my heels.

  He was laughing like an imp, my kimono in his hand after snatching it off me.

  “Give it back!” I jumped for it, but he leaped back and held it above his head.

  “Eh!” He wagged a finger at me. “Manners.”

  “I’m naked!”

  “Close, but no.”

  I jumped for it, bringing us closer together, but he held it further away. “You have a good body, why are you hiding it?”

  I could feel my face and neck going crimson, up to my ears, and my self-conscious side flared, making me hold myself. “This isn’t funny.”

  “Why do you need the kimono? Hmm? Tell me.”

  I stamped my foot at his stubbornness. “Because I’m indecent… and because… well, you said so yourself, once. I mean, I know women like to be thin, but I’m…”

  He frowned. “What did I say?”

  “You said I was to
o skinny.”

  “When did I say that?”

  “The first time you came over.”

  He turned his mouth down at the corners and shook his head. “I don’t remember that.”

  “But you said it.”

  “Who cares what I said? I don’t.”

  “Your brothers said it too.”

  “My brothers are idiots.”

  I laughed at him and put my hand out.

  “You want this?” he pointed to my coverup. “Okay,” he nodded. Balling it up, he tossed it in the pool.

  “That was wrong,” I tried not to laugh. “Go get it.”

  He stared me down, handed me his sunglasses, then walked around me and went in. My insides jumped around watching him glide through the water.

  When he returned it to me and I put it on, it was officially useless. The thin material it was made off, protected me when it was dry but when wet, it clung.

  “Thank you, for making me regret this decision,” I teased. “I feel really attractive now.”

  He folded his arms on the edge of the pool and slowly dragged his eyes from my legs to my face. “You were right, it’s a pretty suit.”

  Needing to break the tension, I held my kimono shut, put my foot on his shoulder and pushed him back into the water.

  The next day was filled with adventure, we explored the lake, finding the painted rocks, going fishing, browsing the shops, and walking in nature.

  I stumbled upon a large flock of Canadian geese and shook Lorenzo’s arm. “Oh, look! Look how pretty they are!” They looked regal in the tall grass, wadding or swimming in the lake, honking, spreading their wings.

  “Good-looking birds,” he agreed.

  I went ahead of him, stepping lightly in the grass.

  “Lydia,” he warned.

  “I want to touch one.”

  “Lydia…”

  “Oh, look at this guy,” I cooed. He was one of the tallest, a long, sleek, black neck. The sides of his cheeks were bright white, and his body was brown. “You’re a handsome boy,” I wooed.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Lorenzo said again.

  “I’m not going to hurt it, I just want to pet him.”

  “Not all Canadians are nice.”

  I flicked my wrist at him and stepped closer. “Hello,” the goose lowered his head, bobbing it up and down. “Yes, I said hello. Hello, hi, how are you?”