Ren
DECEMBER 2017
The wind blows hard on the window as I kneel on the heated tile of the bathroom floor. I scratch my nose with the back of my hand and get back to work. I've finished two bathrooms already, and I'm on the last one, the biggest one—ours.
It's Christmas Eve, and the whole family is coming for dinner tonight. I've spent the entire day cleaning the house from top to bottom because everyone is going to stay the night, with my mother as a babysitter so the rest of the adults can go to Midnight Mass.
I stand, put the cleaning supplies back under the cabinet, and wash my hands before doing a final wipe of the long marble counter and large freestanding bathtub by the window. Now that the cleaning is finally done, I can go get changed.
If you haven't gathered, we don't live in our little rental anymore. Carlo, being the wealthy and retired architect that he is, decided to buy a property up in one of the forested headlands with a distant view of the ocean to build his west coast dream house—a large modern structure with a slew of layered angled rooflines and walls of glass.
As you first view the house, you might think you are looking at one large home, but really it's two smaller houses pushed together. Three bedrooms and an office comprise one side, with just two bedrooms on the other and a shared great room and guest room in between. The great room has a large two-story peaked roof, a fireplace, and a full-length wall of glass that articulates and slides away when the weather is nice.
Just finished this fall, we moved in and became his "caretakers" who look after the house while he splits his time between California and Italy. It really is beyond believing—Sometimes, I pinch myself to make sure my life is still real.
I exit our bedroom, festively attired in a red plaid caol neck dress, and walk up to the glass railing, ready to view my spotless house decorated with a tall Christmas tree in the living room—the tallest one I've ever had.
As I look over the edge, my stomach drops out. No. I close my eyes and suck in a calming breath through my nose. God, I love him, but sometimes...
I come downstairs and survey the damage up close—it's worse.
"Lucas! Come down here right now!"
"Why?" I hear Lucas call from up in his bedroom upstairs.
"Just come down here!"
I hear his six-year-old feet bounding down the stairs behind me.
"What, Mom?" he says, as we stare at his entire storage tub of lego tipped out on the living room carpet. But that's just the start of it.
A multitude of action figures are splayed across the floor, and some sort of craft with red paper, scissors, and crayons has taken place. Why are my hair ties everywhere?
Finally, all the pillows, chair, and sofa cushions are piled up in a mountainous tower next to the tree with his wooden train tracks going through to under the coffee table, leading to a baking sheet filled to the brim with water.
"What?? Look at this mess!" I point to the cookie sheet. "What's that?"
"The lake."
Duh. I heave a frustrated sigh. I wondered why he was so quiet.
"Luke, you need to clean this up right now."
"What? No, Mom! I'm still playing with it!"
"Lucas, I told you—"
Just then, the front door swings open, and we whip around to see who it is. In walks Gio, laden with eight heavy shopping bags in his hands.
Typical Gio. He always waits till the day before to shop for presents.
"I'm back," he calls from the entry. "What an eff-ing madhouse that was!"
"Daddy!" Lucas shouts and runs to his dad, who sets down the bags just in time to scoop him up in a big bear hug.
Lucas beams at him. "Daddy, let me show you the world I built!"
Gio follows him into the living room and comes over to give me a hug and a kiss as well. "Well, don't you look gorgeous? Is your dad...uh, what the—"
Gio gapes at the scene before him as Lucas happily slides into a play position in the middle of it all.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. "I know, and I still have to finish up dinner. Can you please help him clean all this up before everyone gets here in about an—"
My mouth stops working as I catch sight of a pile of lacy garments on the floor near the pillow mound.
"Lucas Giovanni!" I gasp as both hands fly to my mouth. "Did you go through my closet?"
Crap. How did he find those? They most definitely are my two sexiest lingerie pieces in red and black. Oh shit. My mind whirls. What else did he see in that drawer...?
"That's the Nether mom. The black is where the danger is, and the red is the lava." Lucas chirps and holds up one of his Minecraft endermen, and sure enough, taped to a pillow on red craft paper is a sign labeled: The Nether.
"Pfft." Gio tries to keep a straight face.
"He hides right under here, waiting to jump someone. Raaarr!" Lucas makes the black figure with pink eyes jump at us, then stuffs the toy back under one of the cups.
"It's definitely a danger zone under there, little buddy," Gio laughs. "Here, let's clean this up before Nonno comes over."
I pick up the baking sheet of water from the floor and carefully pour it into a bowl on the coffee table. Gio gets down on his hands and knees next to Lucas and tussles his chestnut curls—the same exact curls as Gio's. They look so similar. Even their tanned olive complexion is the same. I stare at the two of them working together for a second, and it melts away most of my frustration.
"You know, he looks more like you every year."
"Except for his eyes," Gio smiles up at me as he helps Lucas scoop the lego back in the bin. "He has your eyes."
Lucas looks up at me through his long lashes as he chucks a handful of Lego bricks petulantly into the bin. They really are stunning. He's going to be a lady-killer when he grows up.
"No, his are lighter and bluey-green. Mine are just boring grey." I sigh and turn to walk to the kitchen to check on dinner.
"Psssh.Boring, whatever." I hear Gio say, and I turn back to face him. "You've always said your eyes are grey, but they're not." He grumbles, grabbing the bras off the floor and standing up. He flexes his chest under his green sweater as he walks towards me, narrowing his eyes playfully. "And I'm going to finally correct you," with a sultry rasp in his voice.
"Oh yeah?" I grin as he pulls me to him, a sexy smirk tugging one side of his mouth. He tucks a strand of hair off my face and around my ear.
"They are not boring grey," he mocks my words, then takes my jaw in his hand, tilts my face up to catch the light, and studies them intently. My breath slightly hitches.
"They all sorts of different shades of blues and greenish greys. They are like one of your beautiful watercolors—unique and totally you."
He lets my jaw go. "I've always been amazed at how beautiful your eyes are."
My knees feel a bit weak. How does he still have the power to make me feel this way?
He takes my hand and presses the lingerie into it, then whispers with hot breath in my ear, "Wear the red one tonight," intentionally letting his lip lightly brush the edge of my ear and sending delightful shivers down my spine.
I give him a look. "We're going to church tonight, Gio."
"I know," he mouths, moving to block the line of sight between Luke and me, then drops a finger slowly down my neck over my breast to my nipple and circles it till it stands at attention for him through my dress. I feel a sensual rush of heat travel south, making me throb a bit. "That's what's going to get me through," he murmurs.
Ugh... What is he trying to start here? The family is coming over in twenty minutes!
"You're going on Santa's naughty list." I scold with my finger, my lips curling into a smirk.
"I hope so," he growls softly, keeping his hand on my lower back and pressing his hard body into mine. "She rewards me nicely when I am." Then pulls me by the neck to kiss him.
"Eeeeeewwww, Dad!" Lucas groans, looking up. "I don't like it when you smoochy kiss Mom."
"Tough, buddy," Gio replies, kissing me one more time to prove it before releasing me with a wink.
♥︎♥︎♥︎
Later that night, after dinner, drinks, and socializing in the living rooms, Carlo takes my dad to look through his telescope, Chiara takes her kids to the guest room, and Gio takes Lucas up to bed as well. The house is peaceful for a moment, and I sit on the sofa enjoying the last sip of Carlo's homemade Limoncello. Fifteen minutes later, I'm called up to Lucas's bedroom after Gio has brushed his teeth and gotten him ready so I can read him his bedtime story.
I climb into bed next to Lucas to read him the next chapter of the "Sorcerer's Stone." Gio's never read it, so he stays to listen, taking a seat in the chair in the corner. I'm halfway through when Lucas stops me.
"Mom, How is Santa going to find us?"
"What do you mean, sweetheart?"
"Since we've moved, how does he know where I am now?"
I wrap my arms around him and give him a tight squeeze. "He's magic, baby. He knows how to find you. How do you think he found you in the first place when you were just a baby?"
Lucas pauses to think about that.
"Mom, how do babies get here?"
Gio and I flash a look at each other. Lucas has been asking this a lot recently and always at inconvenient places, like in the grocery lineup. But last week, he asked when we were at home, and I sat him down and explained the story of his birth at the hospital—leaving out the 29 hours of labor and the subsequent induction. Oh man, that was rough.
"I told you, sweetheart, mothers grow the babies in their belly, and then—"
Lucas winces. "Yeah, yeah, you told me that part, but how do they actually get in there?" Luke looks up at me with such innocence at this huge life question.
Uh. Gio and I exchange another glance.
"Is that like magic?"
"Well..." I hesitate, wondering how to start.
"Is it like magic, buddy," Gio chimes in. He gets off the chair and comes to join us on the bed. "The fact that any of us are sparked into existence, grow up, find a person who loves us, and with that love find it possible to make new children is absolutely magical if you ask me."
My heart melts. Aw. I love that.
"Really?" Lucas' face lights up. "How do you do it?"
"Um..." Gio laughs uncomfortably.
"With a wand like Harry Potter?"
"Pfft!" A muffled laugh escapes me, but then my mind flashes to the drawer the underwear came out of.
Gio puts his face in his hand, then looks up. "You know...little buddy, it's late. I'll tell you a bit more about that part another time."
Lucas grunts in disappointment but then lets out a big tired yawn.
"Night, Champ. I love you," Gio says, kissing his head and giving him a big hug. "You gotta go to sleep now, so Santa will come. No sneaking downstairs like last Christmas."
"But I'm not tired yet."
I bite back a laugh. Lucas always says he's not tired when his eyes are half closed.
"How about I read one more page," I offer.
"And a song."
"Okay, and a song."
"That new one you sang last night," he requests.
I shake my head and smile. I have a feeling this will be his new favorite. I hope I can remember the words again. He is referring to the 1980s song I conjured up from way back in my memory bank trying to think of something new to sing to him:'Time After Time' by Cindi Lauper.
By the time I've finished the first verse and the chorus, rubbing Lucas' back as I do, he's already fallen fast asleep. He looks so angelic sleeping there with his lashes resting softly against his cheek that my eyes grow slightly damp. I brush his hair back, giving him a soft kiss on his forehead.
As I stand and walk toward the door, Gio suddenly appears, backlit by the hallway light, hanging his fingers on the door frame, waiting for me.
He steps forward and hugs me in the dim light of the bedroom. "You sing that song so beautifully," he whispers hoarsely, then adds, "Sing it for me."
His words pluck right at my heartstring, and the vibration ripples in a delightful shiver down my body.
"What? You were listening?
"Yeah," he breathes, pulling me closer to him. "Will you?"
"Okay," I breathe back, the darkness hiding my blush.
I start the song over and softly, letting the words flow like emotional ripples out of me—just for him. I let my head rest on his chest, and at the second verse, he joins in, his voice deliciously low.
I've always enjoyed hearing him sing though he does it so rarely. Our arms wrap around each other as we slow dance like two high schoolers at prom in our son's room with the stars from his little night light shining overhead.
On this Christmas Eve, here in our little spot on this earth, I know that the best present won't ever be anything under the tree—it will always be the little family in this room given to me by the boy of my dreams, and the love of my life—Giovanni, right here in my arms, and forever in my heart.
♥︎♥︎♥︎
••• The End •••
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