"Let's throw them a party," Lily said.
"You want to throw the mafia...a party." I attempt to digest her thinking process.
She shrugs before throwing herself on the bed. "I mean...why not?"
I sat beside her and glanced upward. The guys had been kind to us ever since we had been here. They offer the best education for everyone. The best clothes. The best...everything.
A party wouldn't be bad and a way to express our appreciation. I tried to help around the house, but the maids and butlers always rejected my offer saying how they could never allow Mrs.Maranzano to get on her hands and knees.
Well...Mr.Marazano would.
My face grows red, and I try to cool it by putting my hands on my cheeks. What in the world am I thinking and where did I get the boldness to do such a thing on our honeymoon? I couldn't stop thinking about how we would lay in bed, fully exposed while touching each other. We still didn't go the whole way, but it was a memorable night.
By the time I'm out of my delusions, I realize Lily is staring at me. "You were thinking of something naughty," she grins. "Tell me what it is! Tell me his size!"
My face grew hotter, and I fanned it to cool down, "Wh-What are you talking about?!"
She sat upward. "I'll tell you Pietro's size."
I shudder. "I don't want to know his size."
"Why? My baby isn't attractive enough for you?"
I looked at her, who still held a playful yet teasing face. Placing a hand on her face, I push it back down causing a loud oomph from her. I bounce up. "Should we go shopping then?"
She nods, placing a finger in the air with her back still on the bed. "Let's use our money so they won't get suspicious."
My mouth drop - well what do you know...she can use her brain.
"I know you're mentally insulting me," she rolls off the bed and leaps upward, "And I do not appreciate that." She positioned both fists against her waist.
Heading towards the car, we silently threaten the driver and guards to keep everything a secret. Since we aren't doing anything too out of hand, they agree not to inform any of the guys as long as we take them with us wherever we go. Heading towards the store, we stroll around and purchase party items. "Don't you think it's too childish for us to buy them balloons?" Lily ask.
I stare at the bag of colorful balloons in my hands. "But, a party isn't a party without balloons."
We stand there, staring at the aisle of party items. "Maybe we should just hire them a few strippers and call it an appreciation day."
We look at each other and chuckle lowly. "Nah." We said at the same time and threw more balloons inside the cart.
After we brought some party items, we stood in the food section wondering what we should make for them. Considering how they grew up with three stars restaurant, it can be challenging to make good food for them.
"I make great spaghetti-o. Do you think they will like that?"
I half-heartedly glance at her, "We're in Italy."
"I make great American spaghetti-o," she thought by adding the word American it means everything will change.
"How about-" I smack my lips, "Some sushi?"
She gasps exaggeratedly, "You want to make one of their mortal enemy food?"
"Seriously? Are we seriously doing this?" I ask. "And since you've forgotten I'm half Japanese. I love sushi."
She scoffs, "I'm a half Japanese." She said in a mocking voice before pinching me. "Don't you use that on me? Admit it; you're as white as me," she rolls her eyes. "Half Japanese," she mumbles under her breath before shaking her head.
"I'm still Asian!" Even if it's only half.
"We are not making your enemy of an ancestor food!" she declared boldly.
"Then what do you suggest we make?"
She shrugs and grabs the pasta then begins tilting it back and forth. "American spaghetti-o."
"They hate Americans."
Lily tug a brow, "And yet they decide to put their precious dick inside of one." She tilts her head, "Which means they do not dislike Americans as much as we may believe." She throws the box inside the cart. "Plus, everyone hates Americans. So, self-entitled."
"You were an American citizen not too long ago."
"Yes, and that's how I know Americans are self-entitled. I am self-entitled!"
I sigh, knowing I should just look up some dish later or perhaps ask the chefs to teach me how to make some actual food.
Once we finished shopping and died a little paying the total. We decided to go to a shopping center to purchase the guys some gifts. We got Francesco some new pants, mutually agreeing he needs them. "Maybe whenever he sees these pants, he will remember to keep them in his pants and away from married women," Lily jokes, and I snicker lightly. Behind the childish facade, Francesco is a ruthless man.
Afterward, we decided to get Antonio a shirt. "Should we get him something else? You know...since we accused him of cheating?"
"You accused him," Lily clarified, taking a step back. "I merely suggest a thought." I pinch her causing her to yelp. "Fine. We will get something else as an apology for thinking he cheated when he is indeed a loyal husband," she said blankly. We decided to get him a long jacket.
"Should we get Drew something? I mean, we just met him, but the boys seem to like him, and he has been with Anthony the longest," I said.
Lily puffs a single cheek and nods. "True. Let's get him...pants?"
"Is that all we can come up with?" I ask, leaning against the table "Shirt, coats, and pants?"
"Well I'm sorry we don't have enough money to purchase them a sports car," her voice is dripping with sarcasm, and we both know she isn't sorry. I mean, we shouldn't be sorry after all, we're poor.
Then, there's the fact that Anthony refuses to let me get a job deeming how it's too dangerous. Plus, I can't work with guards hovering over me. Anthony even went as far as masking guards as students at my school.
We sigh, "I wish I won the lottery," she mumbles.
I kick the invisible dirt beneath my shoes. "Me too."
We stuck with the pants.
Then, we agreed that she would get Pietro's gift while I got Anthony. So, we decided to separate and meet again in the parking lot. Walking from store to store, I sigh in defeat. Anthony is a man of wealth; hence he already has everything. My gift probably would only put him to shame. Settling myself in the food court, I sigh once more before glancing at the guard around me.
"Hey," I whisper.
One of them turns towards me. "Yes, Mrs.Maranzano?"
I rest my chin on my palms. "Do you happen to know what Mr.Maranzano likes?"
"Yes," he replies.
"What?"
"You."
I take a few blinks, sensing the people brushing past me probably wondering why there are so many large men around my table. "What does he like to do in his free time?" I decided to change my question.
"You."
I almost fell off my seat with his response. I cough lightly, then take out the water bottle I hid inside the shopping bag and begin chugging it down. Anthony sure trains some ridiculous guards. "What's his hobby?"
"You."
"I cannot be his hobby." I stand my ground.
"Why not?"
"Because a person is not a hobby."
"Having sexual intercourse can be a hobby."
"No, it cannot." I momentarily forget we are in a public shopping grounds.
"Some suggest that sexual intercourse is a form of exercise. Exercise is a broad category that includes running, swimming, etc. Hence, sexual intercourse is a form of a hobby."
If I were drinking water, then it would've fallen out of my mouth. I decided to play along with the joking guard. "Should I wrap myself up in a ribbon as his gift?"
He folds his hand in front of himself, standing straight and tall. "I believe Mr.Maranzano will be pleased with that gift."
I decide to not speak with the guard any further, knowing he is useless when it comes to the gift-giving department. When I realized that nothing fits Anthony inside the shopping plaza, I decided to go more local. Before I left, I sent a message to Lily saying I'd meet her at home.
I love the quiet days, the ones where you can hear the sounds of the wind and the laughter of children. The birdsong came so sweetly, almost tangible, warming the heart. I would walk along the road, sight set upon the clouds. They condense to form the random objects that please my mind.
On these quiet days when everyone is at peace, it's a chance for exploration, and I intend to take my chances. Strings of guitar capture my attention and I maneuver towards the small crowd to see a young man settling himself on the wooden chair - his lip part and a sweet melody drip out of his saturated lungs.
The man stops his soulful sound as his olive eyes etch into mine, and strands of muddy hair strike across his somehow sweet-looking features. There's a cross hanging on a single ear, truly stunning. Steadily, his lip tilts upward into a bright smile, free of burden. His head bends. "Beautiful lady in the yellow dress," he said without an ounce of Italian, indicating that he is not a native.
I look around for a woman in a yellow dress, but soon I find everyone looking at me. Moving my head downward, I realize I'm the lady wearing the yellow dress. Well, it's not yellow, more like lemon. Who am I kidding? It's yellow.
I point a finger at myself, and he nods. "Yes, you."
Hesitantly, I walked towards him and sat down on the empty stool. "You're not from here, are you?" I shake my head. He smiles, "I guess we have something in common."
"I'm married."
He laughs, "I see the ring." I chuckle lowly, before wrapping my fingers around the diamond. "I believe everyone who walks past you is blinded by it." I glance down at the ring on my left finger and smile. "Whoever he is, he is indeed a lucky man to be able to marry a woman like you."
I didn't remove my sight. "No. I'm the lucky one."
"Beautiful and modest, truly a one-of-a-kind," he said, and I looked up to meet his glorious olives once again. "How about a song? For you and your husband? For prosperity in your marriage?"
I twist the ring on my finger, feeling the uncomfortable sensation in my chest. "He isn't present."
He began stringing the guitar. "Then, you must listen carefully and relay my gift to him when he returns." I smile and nod.
His eyes closed, and he began knocking his worn-out shoe against the stool as his fingers string, creating a beautiful sound. "One...Two...Three...Four-" he whispers lowly.
"Oh, kiss me
Like you wanna love forever
And I'll play that game
The game that repeats every day
Hit me with the spotlight
And I'll sing your beauty to the world
You were made to keep my heart beating
Beating oh, beating for you
I've been feeling nothing
Until I met you-"
The last melody fades into the air, and he opens his eyes. "How was it?"
I smile widely. "Beautiful."
The audience claps and throws money into his guitar case. I opened my purse, but he held my hand and shook his head. "This is a gift to you and your husband. Please, give me some face and not degrade it with a value."
"That's unfair for others to give you something but I cannot."
"Your smile is the payment."
"Smooth talker."
He laughs and stands up, thanks everyone's presents before placing the guitar inside his money suitcase. "I must use what God had gifted me or else it will be an insult to him."
He closed the suitcase and stood up, walking towards the store. "Grazie per avermi permesso di usare la tua roba."
The man smiled in return before looking back at his newspaper.
"What's your name?" I ask.
He smirks, "I'm not interested in women."
"I'm not either."
He laughs, "You got humor. I like that," he throws the guitar case over his shoulder. "How about this lemonade."
Did he call me Lemonade? I knew I shouldn't purchase this dress. Gianni is right; I should stop buying clothes on my own.
"Next time we meet, I'll tell you my name," he places out his hand.
"Deal broccoli."
He lifts his brows, "Broccoli?"
We release hands, "Your eyes are green, like broccoli."
"Emerald, Jade, Clover?" he suggests new nicknames.
"No, I'm going to stick with the nickname broccoli."
He laughs before shaking his head "See you around lemonade," he winks, before walking away.
"Seriously though!" I chuckled, "What's your name?"
He smiles a truly beautiful one. "Larry...Larry Dominguez."