The P2 had insisted on providing the groceries necessary for Christmas Eve's dinner. Such quality items had been a novelty to the Pescatores and the Felices. Margherita had asked everyone to bring their favorite Christmas ornament, if they had one; this was a long-shared tradition between the two families.
The P2 showed up at the Pescatore's at four in the afternoon on Christmas Eve, as requested. It seemed ungodly early. No gala the P2 had ever attended had started before seven at night, and typically later. Yet, this was no gala, clearly, and Margherita had mentioned informal attire was of the essence ("Just make sure you're festive and comfortable"). However, what would they do until dinner?
Margherita opened the front door in a gigantic red hoodie. If she pulled up the hood it was a Santa's hat.
Luca had never seen a goofier outfit and found it outrageously cute. Chiara had a dark green sweater on but wore silver tinsel like a scarf and a couple Christmas ornament pinned here and there.
Sam was dashing in black slacks and a red button-down shirt. Giu, who seemed to run hot most of the time, wore a dark green t-shirt with a Christmas tree and a dark blazer (so much for informal!). Lorenzo was cozy in a white cashmere sweater, and Re...Re wore all black.
Margherita smirked, pulling him inside by his hand. "What part of 'festive' did you not get?"
Her hand on his was enough to cause a full tilt. He didn't care about Christmas, the families, the P2; he just wanted to drag Margherita into a room and make out till they dropped. And he had stamina.
Somehow, he mumbled, "All of it?" Margherita pulled some golden tinsel that had been hanging from a curtain rod and draped it around Re. "There you go."
He smiled, in a daze, entirely at Margherita's mercy. She dropped his hand to help with sorting the groceries, and his smile waned.
Alessandro bounced on Re like a spring-loaded toy. "Re! I missed you!"
Lorenzo's eyes bulged out of his head at the scene. When had Re gotten so cozy with Pescatore's family? (Very early on, in fact. Re had shown up at Margherita's house when she'd been sick, not even three months after she'd transferred into the academy.)
"Me too, buddy." Re's eyes glittered with emotion. He beamed at the parents. "Mom, Dad."
Mom flew into his arms. She was so tiny, it was ridiculous. Dad also hugged him, proceeding to introduce himself to the rest of the P2.
Luca was obviously moved. He mumbled, "Thank you. Thank you for having us." He gestured at the P2. "These guys, well, they're my family, really."
A flurry of introductions ensued. Four parents, Chiara, Marco, Margherita, little Alessandro, and the P2, made twelve people crammed in the tiny two-bedroom apartment.
Giuliano had never seen Re like this—not remotely. He leaned against his friend's side and whispered, "My dude, you're in love, like...really in love."
Re's head snapped to Giu, worry in his eyes. Giu winked. "Don't you worry, your secret is safe with me. I'm just happy for you."
"You are? Even if..."
Giuliano knew exactly what worried Re; Margherita Pescatore was nothing like whom Luca Vincitore was supposed to like and date.
Giu answered, "We don't choose who we are and whom we like, just what to make with all of that." He winked and patted Re on the back. The words, somewhat cliché, meant so much more coming from Giuliano.
Meanwhile, Lorenzo called, "Hey, Re, bring the rest of the groceries to the kitchen!"
Alessandro, who'd been hanging from Re's bicep, asked out loud, "Re, are you really in love?" Re panicked.
Giuliano asked, without missing a beat, "What about you, Alessandro, are you in love?"
Alessandro let go of Re's bicep. "I think so, but I'm not sure. How are you sure?"
"You'll figure it out."
Mom was the smallest person in the house, by far, yet, she was the mistress of ceremonies. She raised her hands like a music director and announced, "This is how Christmas at the Pescatores works. We make our favorite foods, we eat them, we get drunk, and sleep all together under the Christmas tree." Her Korean accent was strong and her Italian flawed. Also, there was no Christmas tree in the room, but no one dared to contradict her.
She continued, "Tomorrow we watch sappy movies all day and eat leftovers. So far, we have the following foods to make: lasagna, breaded fish, and tteokguk. Of course we'll have pandoro afterwards. Anything else you'd like to add?" She looked at the P2 who were too polite to suddenly spring some dish on her and adamantly shook their head.
Lorenzo offered, "I brought an appetizer..." He pushed forward a package form Peck, a fancy deli store in Milan, which contained a "gastronomical panettone," layer upon layer of savory tartines with salmon, cold cuts, and all sort of delicacies. The rest of the P2 had brought high-end wines and liquor.
Mom beamed a deranged smile. She declared, "From now on, these hot guys are part of the family and invited to every Christmas!"
Margherita hid her face in the hood of her sweatshirt, but everyone laughed, even Re. Dad poured wine and divided the guests in teams to tackle different dishes. Marghe, Luca, and Alessandro ended up on Christmas tree duty. Awful Christmas music played in the background. Re noticed Lorenzo grimacing at each new song from across the room.
Re eyed skeptically the one cardboard box, but Marghe and Alessandro dove in enthusiastically pulling out the plastic branches of a derelict, scrawny tree. Once they were done assembling the tiny plastic conifer, Margherita called for everyone's attention. "We need the ornaments, please!"
Chiara pulled away from the table where she had been working with Marco and Giu on a side salad and cutting breads. Sam had been on team lasagna with Chiara's mom (he'd always wanted to learn to make lasagna and also died to know better the mother of the feral girl), whereas Lorenzo had been fascinated by the Korean dish Mom had been working on. The dads had been preparing the fish.
Chiara pulled an ornament from her sweater and declared, "This is from the seventies and apparently my mom loved it enough to carry it over to our household when she got married; I love how shiny it is!" She put it on the tree.
Dad pulled out a fish ornament with feet and a Santa hat, "This just makes me laugh; it's so silly."
"So ugly!" Mom teased him. The procession went on as the cooking proceeded. Margherita's ornament was a yellow, fat Santa.
She didn't provide an explanation so Re asked her, privately, "Why?"
She tilted her head. "I'm not sure. It just...doesn't fit, you know? Santas are red."
Margherita's phenotype was far from the typical Italian. The Italian population had changed dramatically in the last thirty years; many immigrants had added new ethnicities to the gene pool, but not all Italians were open to change. Luca was half Egyptian, but his wealth and popularity had protected him. The same wasn't true for Margherita.
Unexpectedly, Giu stepped forward with a white, pink, and blue ornament. "This is a gift from when I was thirteen, and it's very precious to me. Sam gave it to me after we had a huge fallout, and it meant a lot."
Lorenzo had brought in a sparkly musical note, Sam a ceramic bauble he'd made with star-shaped holes and room for a tea-light candle inside.
Luca had nothing. "I don't have one, sorry," he admitted to Margherita, dismal. He'd panicked because he'd always hated Christmas, overthinking the assignment way too much.
She smiled at him. "We'll make you one. Here..." She seized a sheet of paper from a kitchen drawer, golden on one side and white on the other, and showed him how to make an origami star. She then looped a little string through it and handed it to him.
How could he not love her?
"Excuse me!" He said. "There's one more." Everyone turned to him, splashing wine around since the good stuff had been flowing quickly. Luca continued, solemn, "My girlfriend made me this, and I'll treasure it forever."
Margherita's jaw dropped. Mom hollered loudly, then Dad clapped, starting what soon became thunderous approval. Margherita's face was puce.
However, Sam and Giu exchanged a look that was the antithesis of happy. What the fuck was Re thinking? Lorenzo was upset for his own reasons.
Dinner was a drunken affair with some people sitting at the table, some on the couch, many on the floor. The food was fine—not the chef-devised items the P2 were accustomed to, but participating in the making made it taste better, somehow.
Chiara was giddy; the wine had definitely gone to her head, but in-between Giuliano and Sam, she felt like the heroine of some cheesy Christmas movie. However, she knew it was just a game; they didn't care, and she was finally dating Sergio. They'd set up a second date for January. This was only pretend for one night.
After dinner, the whole group mobilized to move all the mattresses in the house to the living room floor. Blankets, sleeping bags, and pillows were brought over and everyone changed into pajamas or sweats.
Dad provided sweats for Lorenzo and Sam, who had not brought comfy pants.
The dads played cards with Chiara, Sam, and Giu. Alessandro passed out early in a sleeping bag under the tree. Marghe helped the moms doing dishes, while Marco and Luca chatted on the couch, while some Christmas comedy played on the telly.
By the time Margherita was finished, Luca had fallen asleep on the couch. She'd never seen him sleep; all the aggression drained out of him, long lashes against his cheeks.
Mom said, "He looks like an angel. You're so lucky."
The comment was bitter sweet. How long could it really last?
Margherita fell asleep soon after, on her mattress by the TV, under a cozy blanket.
When she woke up, several hours later, someone was stacked against her; which was typical. She sat up and yawned. Chiara was sprawled on her back, one leg on Giuliano, also sprawled on his back, and one on Sam, curled up in a tight ball, facing Chiara. The parents were in cozy bundles in their sleeping bags. Marco was still on the couch, which he'd taken over. Somehow, Lorenzo had ended up in the sleeping back with Alessandro, right under the tree, the two of them sleeping with their arms above their heads. Legs against hers, Re was watching her with a sweet smile.
She lay back down and turned toward him. "Why aren't you sleeping?"
He shook his head at first, unable to find the words. Then he said, "Best Christmas ever. Thank you."
Margherita smiled, but melancholy soon tainted her expression. "Re..." He absorbed her countenance with apprehension. Margherita continued, "I'm not your girlfriend."
Re took her hand and both of them were surprised at the instant sparks between them. He lowered his gaze to their hands, so that she could only see his long lashes, and mumbled, "Do you want to be?"
She mumbled, sadly, "Publicly? Did you think this through?" He hadn't. "What would that even entail?" His yellow eyes looked up at hers. Her melancholy had permeated him. She was not wrong. Margherita sighed. "Can we just...hang out? Take it slow?"
He nodded, sadder. His privilege was an emotional prison and his parents' expectations an iron-clad mould of what his life would be: no room for Margherita Pescatore. Somehow rationality had put a dampener on a passion he'd thought indomitable.
However, when Margherita snuggled with her head against his chest, warmth spread throughout his body.
Probably he'd never sleep again.
They would figure this out. He closed his eyes, breathing in her vanilla scent, and put his arms around her.
Finally, he fell asleep. (It had been a good nine minutes since he'd thought he'd never sleep again.)
A couple hours later, dawn grayed the room.
Giuliano woke up first, since he was used to getting up early to work out. Sitting amidst the sea of bodies, several emotions washed over him: first and foremost, shame, as if he'd done something wrong. Was he entitled to this cozy family scene? These people didn't truly know him or the P2. Would they have embraced him so readily had they known all of his secrets? His own mother had shunned him.
Then, lust: Chiara was asleep beside him. She'd pulled down the blanket during the night; and the outline of her breasts was clearly visible through her pink, Happy Pizza t-shirt.
Next, anger. Sam was curled next to Chiara, clinging to her arm. The fucker could have any woman in the world, could he leave this one alone?
Re was curled on his side, holding on to Margherita, also on her side, facing him, the crown of her head against his chest; they could have been the ying and yang symbol. The sight elicited within him melancholy and regret: they could never be together. This wouldn't last. What would happen to Re once he came to grips with reality? What of Margherita? He should forget about Chiara as well, and not only because of their social divide. They were all being a little delusional.
He inhaled deeply. The tiny Christmas tree with their few mismatched ornaments blinked its lights in an erratic pattern.
Yet, most of all, for reasons he couldn't explain, Giuliano felt grateful.
"Coffee?" Asked Mom, yawning.
He nodded.
As promised, the whole group spent Christmas Day in pajamas, watching movies, and eating leftovers.
Only Alessandro received a Christmas gift: some Lego model that had clearly been bought used.
Luca and Marghe were sitting on the couch, mushed together, side by side. It didn't even matter what they were watching; the precariousness of their bond was evident to both of them. All they wanted was to be close as long as they could, before the shit hit the fan.
Re whispered to her, "May I buy some gifts for the family?"
Margherita shook her head once, resolute. "Please, don't. It's easier if Ale doesn't know what he's missing."
The same went for her non-relationship with Re; she compared her happy life before Re to her wretched life when he'd been in the United States. Things would never go back to baseline. It's hard to appreciate walking, after you thought you could fly.
Margherita did not have time to hang out with Re for the rest of the break. He'd invited her to Bormio with the P2 but she had work, not to mention a math test looming at the beginning of January. So she used the few free hours she had available to study at the library with Mauro, who was an excellent tutor.
However, he'd been off kilter since he'd learned that Margherita had gone on a date with Re. He'd taken to heart Margherita'a advice to only ask questions if he wanted to know the answer, meaning he'd never brought up the subject again, but now doubt was eating at him.
She worked diligently on some integral equations.
Mauro looked over her shoulder to catch any mistakes, but she'd grasped the main concept well.
The library was empty. Mauro had started to come to terms with the fact that his romantic feelings for Margherita had been nothing but deluded expectations for a future that did not exist. Conversely, he'd had no expectations about Laura, but she'd weaved herself into his life and now was part of its fabric, bringing warmth and color to it.
Was that love?
At least it was real, happening. In fact, it had been almost a year since their first kiss in this very same library.
A good, normal friend would want to know if Margherita was dating, right?
She finished the equation with a triumphant, "There!"
"Good job!"
Marghe closed the book satisfied, assessed her friend's mood, and asked, "Are you okay?"
Mauro forced a smile. "Sure, just tired." Pause. "Are you...still seeing Vincitore?"
"Um, yea... I haven't had much time, but we did see each other a couple times."
"And you'd like to see him again?" She nodded. "And he's asked?"
"Yes, a lot." She smiled. "...but I had shifts and stuff."
"Marghe, I'd be the first to tell you to send him to hell, but if you want to see him, then do it properly. You're just poking the bear like this."
Mauro was right, but Margherita had been really scared of how much she liked Re, when the relationship had no future.
She asked, "Do you know all the dates Re goes on?"
Mauro scoffed. "Yes, he's such a player."
"Actually..." Margherita explained how the president arranged for his perfunctory dates, and how much Re hated them. However, this had triggered some major insecurities in Margherita; the president would never allow him to date her, if things progressed. "I'm hesitant to get more involved."
Mauro hated being a good friend, given his fear and hatred of Vincitore, but such was the job. "Marghe, you should be hesitant because he's berserk, not because of some imaginary boogie woman. If you have feelings for him, nothing should stop you, or you'll regret it. If it doesn't work out, it had better be because you tried, not because you didn't."
Margherita eyes shone with emotion. She hugged Mauro fiercely. "Thank you."
It was then that Mauro knew with certainty that he no longer had feelings for her, except for the fear that she might get hurt. He lifted his arms and hugged Margherita back, enjoying the warmth of their friendship and this new revelation.
Laura had brought lunch for Mauro (some fancy sushi he loved and could not afford) and the sight of him hugging Pescatore unleashed a thunderstorm inside her. Pescatore was not the issue; Laura knew she saw Mauro as a friend. The problem was how jealous and possessive she felt of Mauro, who'd been in love with Pescatore, forever. Good god, did she, Laura Beltagna, catch fucking feelings for Mauro Arcani?!
Damn.
Had she fallen for him?
Teary-eyed, she turned around.
"Laura!" Mauro called. She sped-walked out of the library, and Mauro ran after her, seizing her arm to turn her around. "Hey! What's up?"
Laura was crying. Mauro was taken aback. In the year they'd been seeing each other, they'd never had a fight, but they'd also never defined their relationship other than a friends-with-benefits type of thing. "What's wrong?" He asked, at a loss.
She shook her head. "Mauro, I need space. I don't think I can see you anymore."
The words stunned him. He couldn't utter a sound. Yet, it had been bound to happen. He dropped her arm and walked back into the library.
Laura sobbed; he didn't care at all, did he?
What the fuck had she done?
Author's note: There's nothing scarier than falling in love. Love can indeed be the stuff you read in novels (though, quite rarely, in my experience) with the potential of immense joy...but also pain 🥺 Fun fact: my favorite Christmas ornament is indeed a misfit yellow Santa that I brought over to the U.S. all the way from Italy. Ha! Star if you liked the chapter 🥰 and see you next week with a pretty interesting double date 🤐