Keep Me At Christmas (Romano Family Book 4)

by Lucinda Whitney

  Luciana looked at Afonso and she held a breath.

  His expression.

  Luciana’s heart squeezed and she nuzzled Carlota closer.

  So much love, so much awe in Afonso’s expression of gentle adoration.

  That’s what Luciana wanted. Someone to look at her with that much love in his eyes when he saw her.

  Not just anyone—Jack DiLorenzo.

  How many times had his eyes lit up when he saw her and she hadn’t recognized what it meant?

  She sighed and the baby startled in her sleep. Luciana shushed her softly while she watched Carlota’s parents officially tie their lives together. She was happy for them, and, at the same time, couldn’t help the twinge of longing that pinched her heart for a brief moment.

  It was ridiculous to miss Jack so much. Less than forty hours since she’d said goodbye to the DiLorenzos, and already her chest ached with longing.

  How could she miss a man she barely knew? Three weeks was not enough to fall in love, was it? A memory flicked at her, a conversation at Catarina’s baby shower. Hadn’t Vanessa and Jacinta said something about falling in love in a short time? Maybe it was some sort of a Romano curse, to fall in love so quickly with someone from another country.

  After Catarina and Afonso finished exchanging their vows, the officiator declared them formally married. Afonso wrapped Catarina in his arms, expertly dipped her in a graceful arc, and kissed her for a long minute. The room erupted in loud laughs and joyous clapping.

  Luciana smiled and held the baby a little closer. “They made it, little one,” she whispered softly. Emotion swelled in her chest, and she took a deep breath.

  Later, as dinner was winding down, Luciana climbed the stairs to Catarina’s suite, changed Carlota’s diaper, and sat on the rocking chair to feed her a bottle. Outside the window, the night had fallen, darkness shrouding the landscape save for the flood lights from the house.

  Luciana sat on the chair, back and forth with the baby in her arms, enjoying the closeness and unwilling to put her down in her crib. The gentle, faded sounds of the family celebrating on the ground floor brought her a sense of contentment. She’d missed being around her family.

  At the soft rustle of the door opening, Luciana turned to find Catarina entering the room. Catarina removed her shoes and approached silently on stockinged feet.

  “Is the dinner over?” Luciana whispered, slowing the rocking, but not stopping. She put the empty bottle down on a nearby table.

  Catarina nodded and knelt by the chair. “Has she been much work?” She asked in the same tone, looking down at the sleeping baby.

  “None at all. She’s a little angel.” Luciana glanced at Carlota, unable to hold back the love she felt from her voice. “You know I love watching her.” This time, the wistfulness tinged her words.

  Catarina raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. She stood and sat on the edge of the bed, poised as if she meant to stay for a little while. She opened her mouth, but Luciana spoke first.

  “Isn’t Afonso waiting for you?” Luciana asked.

  “I came to get my long coat and luggage. We’ll be leaving soon.” She leaned forward, her expression softening again at the sight of her sleeping baby in Luciana’s arms. “And I had to see her one last time before I go.”

  Luciana offered a smile. “She’s doing great.”

  Catarina raised her gaze to meet Luciana’s. “What about you?” She asked in a low voice.

  “What do you mean?” Luciana averted her cousin’s inquisitive eyes.

  “What happened in America, Luciana?”

  Ah, that’s what she meant. “I was never able to keep anything from you when we were young, was I?”

  Catarina chuckled low. “Well?”

  “I met someone,” Luciana admitted. Slowly, she rose, walked the few steps to the crib, and lowered Carlota onto the mattress.

  Catarina leaned closer. “I wanted to kiss her chubby cheeks, but if I touch her, she’s going to wake up.” She hesitated for a brief moment. “Be good to your godmother, princesa,” she whispered, then blew a kiss to the baby.

  Once the baby was settled and covered with a blanket, Luciana grabbed the monitor and stepped into the hallway, leaving the door ajar.

  Catarina tiptoed to the side of the bed where a small suitcase rested on the wood floor and the long coat was draped over the footboard. She picked it up and followed after Luciana.

  They stood outside the bedroom. “What’s his name?” Catarina asked.

  “Jack DiLorenzo,” Luciana replied in a low voice. “Isn’t Afonso waiting for you?” She repeated.

  Catarina bit her lower lip and glanced toward the staircase. “When we return, you’re going to tell me who Jack is and how you met him.” She pulled on the handle of the suitcase and angled the wheels with a tap of her foot.

  “I will,” Luciana agreed. “But I’m warning you already, there isn’t much to tell.”

  Catarina winked at her as she descended the stairs. “There’s probably more than you think.”

  As Luciana joined the family at saying goodbye to the newlyweds in the entry hall, she turned her cousin’s words in her mind.

  Would she and Jack be able to figure out a way to have more between them? And how?

  * * *

  Friday, January 5th

  Luciana spent the next few days snuggling Carlota and watching romantic comedies. By the time Catarina and Afonso returned from their three day honeymoon on Wednesday morning, Luciana questioned the way she’d passed her time—holding the baby was wonderful, but witnessing fictitious characters get their happy ending wasn’t as cathartic as she’d thought. Why couldn’t real life be that easy?

  The rest of the week was spent helping the newlyweds move into their town home in Castelo Branco. Once again, Luciana took on baby duty, glad for the distraction and the busyness involving her cousin’s little family.

  When Luciana entered the kitchen on Friday, she found Catarina and Afonso at the table, Catarina sketching while Afonso fed the baby and watched the progress of the drawing. It was a beautiful, domestic vignette, one Luciana would miss, if not with a wish she could have the same.

  “You’re leaving?” Catarina stood and set aside the paper pad and pencil, and stepped forward.

  Afonso wiped Carlota’s face, then picked her up from the high chair.

  “Now that you guys are moved in and settled, it’s time I return to Lisbon,” Luciana said. “With the trip to New York and everything that happened there, plus the wedding, I haven’t been home in almost a month. I’ll need the time to reorganize before the next job comes along.” In reality, she needed time to recoup and recharge from all the emotions.

  Catarina frowned. “Do you have time for an early lunch before you leave?” She turned to Afonso.

  Afonso adjusted the baby in his arms and tipped his chin toward the door. “Go. Carlota and I will keep busy.” He winked. “Daddy-daughter stuff.”

  Catarina walked back and kissed them both. Then she turned down the hallway. “Let me get my coat and purse.”

  Twenty minutes later, Luciana and Catarina sat at a table by the window of the restaurant at the Dona Maria Hotel in downtown Castelo Branco. The afternoon was gray and cold, with a pale sun too weak to warm up the brittle January day.

  As soon as the waiter took their orders, Catarina stretched her hand and touched Luciana on the forearm. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. We should have done this before, with more time. I didn’t know you’d planned to leave before the weekend.”

  “You don’t have to apologize. Getting you and Afonso settled in was more important.”

  “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay?”

  Luciana shook her head. “It’s time I go, before I get more used to my beautiful goddaughter.” She would miss the baby fiercely.

  The waiter came back with fresh cheese and butter, and slices of toasted bread, and Catarina dug in. Luciana picked a piece of bread and slowly spread a pat of but
ter.

  “So. Jack DiLorenzo,” Catarina said between bites. “How did you meet him?’

  “The DiLorenzos have a bakery and café not too far from the museum where I worked. I went there for breakfast and lunch.” She’d been there almost every day for the two weeks she’d worked on the project. “When the snow storm came, Jack’s mother and grandmother invited me to stay with them.”

  The waiter came with their food, and they busied themselves for the next few minutes.

  “What happened?”

  Luciana raised the glass to her mouth and drank, buying herself some time. How could she tell her cousin what she herself didn’t quite know? She shrugged. “I spent three weeks in upstate New York. Not enough time for anything to happen.”

  Catarina frowned at her. “We have two cousins getting married soon who prove that theory to be wrong.”

  Luciana shook her head. “That doesn’t mean—”

  Catarina interrupted. “Jacinta and Knox fell in love in two weeks. And Matias and Vanessa had eight days on the cruise up the River Douro.” She looked pointedly at Luciana. “It’s more than enough time.”

  Luciana put down her fork and sighed. “Really, Catarina?” The weariness in her voice was too thick to disguise. “You really believe that falling in love in two weeks is not a little crazy? Even saying it out loud is making me sound like there’s something wrong with me.” She put her index finger to her temple and motioned the familiar gesture.

  Catarina chewed for a moment, then took a sip. “Who can tell what binds two people together? For some the process is a little longer—” She placed a hand over her own chest—“and for others it takes less time. I don’t think it means it’s any less strong or undeserving. When there’s a connection between two people, it’s hard to argue with that.”

  Luciana looked out the window, at the colorless, cold day. She missed the snow-capped rooftops and reds and golds of the lingering Christmas season in Hudson Springs. Tomorrow was January 6th and the first day of Epiphany, which meant the last day of lights and decorations. She would miss the closing of the season in the small town.

  Despite the messages she’d exchanged with Jack, and one video chat, she missed him so much more than she thought she would. “Maybe there’s some truth to that, but it doesn’t matter. I’m here and he’s there. Five thousand kilometers are hard to ignore.” Before Catarina made any more comments on the subject, Luciana changed it. “You didn’t tell me yet of your plans to open a decorating space.”

  Catarina raised an eyebrow, but in the end she conceded and swiped the screen on her smartphone. “Let me show you my Pinterest board.”

  When Luciana took Catarina back to the house, she followed her cousin inside to say goodbye to the baby and to Afonso.

  Catarina stepped forward and embraced Luciana. “I’m so glad you were able to come. I’m going to miss you.”

  “I’ll come back soon,” Luciana promised. She returned the hug and exchanged air kisses with Catarina.

  “Drive safe,” Catarina said as Luciana opened the car door.

  “Don’t worry. I should be in Lisbon before dinner time.”

  As Luciana pulled away from the curb, she sighed. She was looking forward to returning home, but after a month of being surrounded by family—Jack’s family in Hudson Springs and her own for Catarina’s wedding—the empty apartment would seem strange.

  Maybe she’d get a cat. But what would she do with it when she had to leave on a work trip? What about a turtle? Turtles were easy pets, right? She could pay Senhora Marta’s teenage daughter to watch over it when Luciana went out of town. But turtles didn’t cuddle and purr and keep company to a lonely heart.

  Was she so desperate for company as to seriously entertain the idea of taking in a pet?

  Luciana shook her head, as if the gesture could bring some sense. Maybe if she kept busier than normal, she wouldn’t have time to mope and feel sorry for herself, for feeling so incomplete.

  She certainly wouldn’t have time to spend any thoughts on Jack DiLorenzo.

  Jack, with the deep, brown eyes and the soft, husky voice. The quiet smile she missed so much. The way he looked at her.

  He’d asked her to let him know when she arrived at her apartment so they could video chat again. How was she going to keep a brave face?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sunday, January 7th

  Luciana had been gone for a few days when Jack received her reply to his message. Every day he’d checked, reminding himself she needed the time and space to adjust back to her routine after being gone a week longer than expected, especially after her cousin’s wedding. He wanted to call her on the phone, but held back, knowing it would be harder to listen to her voice.

  How did he miss her this much? Reopening the café after the short holiday break had been tougher than he could have predicted. He was distracted, and imagined her sitting by the front window, sipping the caffé mocha and smiling at him. At home, it wasn’t much better, where he could see her in almost every room, haunted by the echoes of her voice and laughter, by the thread of memories that pulled at him unceasingly.

  The time difference between New York and Lisbon was an inconvenience, even with the baker’s hours he kept. It annoyed him that she lived ahead of him five hours, forcing him to a foiled game of catching up. A discreet routine inched up slowly, and Jack was relieved in the small predictions and daily expectations of knowing where and when to find her, following her comings and goings on social media. He messaged Luciana a few times a week, and she replied in short sentences. They’d had one video chat while she babysat her goddaughter, but Luciana had missed the second chat they’d set up, apologizing later. Talking to her and seeing her on the screen were the kind of slight consolations that lent him the balance he needed for now. Everything else chafed at him.

  On Sunday, before dinner, a week after Luciana had returned to Lisbon, Jack went for a drive. He circled the town square and drove past the museum, not sparing a second glance at the new sign announcing the textile exhibition. The one Luciana had restored, catalogued, and set up on display. More than three thousand miles separated him from Luciana, but there was a reminder of her time in Hudson Springs. A permanent reminder.

  The Christmas lights were off and tomorrow the decorations in town would come down, starting with the nativity scene, which would be dismantled and put away until December.

  Memories could not be put away. He knew that only too well. At least, this time they were bittersweet and not shame-ridden. The only thing he was guilty of was indecisiveness and fear. Fear of happiness and fear of losing.

  Fear of loving again.

  Jack drove on until he left town, kept driving south toward the city, running from everything that brought his heart wishing for things he’d told himself he couldn’t have. He drove for hours, trying to make sense of everything in his life.

  Mamma and Nonna sat in the living room when he returned. Jack removed his coat and scarf, and hung them on the coat rack in the hallway. His hands lingered on the dark blue cap Luciana had knit for him, before he placed it in the coat pocket.

  “I kept your dinner in the microwave,” his mother said.

  He thanked her absently. He’d eat later.

  Slipping his hands in his pockets, he walked to the French patio doors. Winter had a firm grip this season, and the plants on the patio showed no signs of life. In just a few months, the family would start the new seeds for the summer garden, as they did every spring.

  “You dropped your cap,” Mom said.

  Jack turned around. “What?”

  Mom gestured at the floor and he walked back to pick it up.

  She put the book down on the coffee table and joined him. “What do the instructions say for cleaning?”

  “I have no idea.” He handed her the cap. If he wore it every day during winter, he’d have to clean it at some point, but that was the least of his worries right now. Jack walked back to the French doors.

 
; Mom pulled the cap inside out. “This is so well knit.” She joined Nonna, who set aside her knitting. The two of them examined the cap almost reverently.“Weird,” mom said after a few minutes. “There’s a tag but no care instructions. You should take a look at it.”

  “I will.” Jack kept looking at the barren, snowy patio.

  “Jack, you should look at it right now,” she repeated in an even voice.

  The comment annoyed him and Jack tried to hide his impatience. Maybe he should have stayed out until Mom and Nonna were in bed. The thought brought a prickle of guilt and his shoulders dropped, more irritated at himself that anyone else. It wasn’t his family’s fault. “What’s wrong with the tag?”

  She returned the cap. “Nothing wrong. Just not what I was expecting. I’m guessing you haven’t read it yet.” Her teasing half-smile hinted at something, and his curiosity rose.

  He’d noticed the small cream tag made of some kind of woven ribbon, but hadn’t really paid much more attention to it than that. Turning the lamp to cast the light his way, Jack flattened the tag against the knit fabric behind it. It was secured by a couple of stitches on both ends and it had a printed row of small letters: to-J-Handknit-by-L, followed by the year.

  Jack frowned. How had he missed this?

  Maybe he should stop wearing it every day. It would become old faster, and he wanted this cap to last forever.

  “Did you see the other side?” Mom asked.

  “What other side?”

  “Turn it out. There’s more inside.”

  Since the ribbon was only sewed on the ends, Jack turned it halfway toward him, then flipped the cap upside down to read: With-All-My-Love.

  All. My. Love. Luciana’s love.

  Jack froze and held a breath. His eyes squeezed shut and, for a moment, the sound of rushing blood drowned everything else around him. Could it be?