Say Ye (19 page)

“I should have known better than to argue with Celeste,” he said as he entered the room. Lita’s brow creased. “She told me you’d be happier if you two spent some time alone.”

“Oh,” she said. Lita squeezed Lorenzo’s hand. She had to believe they’d all be happy.

“I’ve got to get Celeste a huge Christmas present,” Lorenzo said.

“Her family happy is all the gift she wants,” Uncle Enzo replied.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Lorenzo said.

They wished Uncle Enzo goodnight and turned off the lights as Uncle Enzo went into his room. Hand in hand, they walked upstairs. Lita’s stomach hollowed. Lorenzo faced her when they reached her room. He kissed her again, sweetly, gently, a goodnight kiss after a first date. He kissed her hand and stepped away.

“Goodnight,” he said.

“Goodnight,” Lita whispered. Her head tingled. She opened her door and watched him go into the room across the hall before she shut it behind her.

Lita slept well those next few nights. Not as well as she had snuggled in Lorenzo’s arms at his apartment, but better than usual. He kept his word and kissed her goodnight at her door every night, after days filled with Christmas shopping, walks in the park holding hands, drives at night, carols trilling from the radio, so Lita could see the lights, meals eaten together, laughing and talking. They went to a magical production of “The Nutcracker” at the opera house with Uncle Enzo and Celeste, where Lorenzo held her hand in the darkened theatre, the stage glowing and the music stirring. He even watched “A Bishop’s Wife” and “Miracle on 34
^th
Street” with her, but he drew the line at “It’s A Wonderful Life,” claiming it was too long.

He made her popcorn and hot cocoa, snuggled with her on the couch, and helped her in the kitchen, doing dishes or going to the store for her when she ran out of chocolate for the pie she was making. She sang every day, smiled so much her cheeks got sore, gave Lorenzo back and neck massages, made his favorite meals, and kissed him longer and harder each day.

On Christmas Eve, they went to midnight mass. The family was all there and Lita basked in the warmth and light of their smiles and the special service. When they arrived home, Uncle Enzo went to bed, wishing them a Merry Christmas. Lorenzo got Lita under the mistletoe in the living room doorway for a few minutes. He held her in the dim room, the tree shining with its twinkly white lights and glass ornaments, the scent of it mingled with cinnamon and excitement.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered.

She caressed his cheek. “Merry Christmas,” she said.

“What do you want to do tomorrow morning?” he asked.

She blushed because she wanted to say you. “I like to have brunch, open presents, lounge in my pajamas. What about you?”

“Sounds fine. Sophia’s expecting us at two?”

Lita nodded and followed Lorenzo upstairs. He kissed her goodnight.

She lay in her bed, warm but wiggly. This was what it would be like after they married, except they would get to sleep together. It would be perfect.

Lita sat straight up in bed. The light streamed in through the curtains. Christmas! She jumped off the bed, stripped off her old princess Christmas pajamas, pulled on white panties and a tee shirt bra, brushed her teeth and hair, and pulled her hair up into a clip. She shrugged on a red tee shirt and slipped on candy cane striped pajama bottoms and red slippers. She glanced at the clock, almost nine-thirty. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept that late. Probably Uncle Enzo and Lorenzo would already be downstairs.

She opened her door with a swoosh. Lorenzo sat on the bed across the hall, but rose as soon as he saw her. He walked over, crazy sexy in black slippers, black and dark green striped pajama bottoms and a dark green tee which showed off his well-defined but not too big muscles. He had already showered, she guessed, because his hair still looked a bit damp but styled.

“Merry Christmas,” they said at the same time.

They stood so close she could smell the mint of his toothpaste. She kissed him. His kisses amazed her, just the right pressure in his lips, no hesitation or awkward moves, the perfect mix of tenderness and ferocity. When she pulled back, he brooded, serious.

“If I’m a candy cane, I guess you’re a wintergreen mint,” she said. He almost smirked. Okay, that was lame. Her mind raced. “Are you a licker, sucker, or biter?”

Her sexy man was back. “All three, depending on my mood and the type of candy. Candy cane? All three. You?” He slid his arms around her waist, his fingers on the move.

“Suck, usually,” she said, her face growing as red as her shirt. “Licking maybe, biting a little if I can’t stand to wait anymore. But I’m pretty patient.”

“Sometimes anticipation is half the fun.”

Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrows. He chuckled.

“So I’ve been told,” he said.

“Maybe I can make a believer out of you.”

“I hope so,” he said. His smile faded. Why did he get serious when she was playful? “We better get down there before Uncle Enzo decides to come up.” They ambled hand in hand into the kitchen.

The strong scent of Italian roast coffee perked in the air. Uncle Enzo greeted them from the table, where he sat with an espresso and the paper. Lita toasted some of the Panettone she made a couple days before while Lorenzo made them cappuccinos. Uncle Enzo would be having lunch at Frank D’Angelo’s with Celeste and her family in a couple hours, so Lita didn’t make a big breakfast. She and Lorenzo would probably have a light lunch too, since they’d eat a huge meal at Sophia’s. Lorenzo sat next to her at the table and held her hand while they ate. Uncle Enzo smiled indulgently at them and sipped his coffee.

“Shall we open some gifts?” Uncle Enzo asked as Lorenzo cleared the table.

Lita hopped up and clapped. “I can’t wait to give you yours.”

Uncle Enzo and Lorenzo followed her into the living room, where she picked a few red and green wrapped presents from under the tree. Uncle Enzo went first and opened a bocce ball set from Lita. Uncle Enzo and Lorenzo gave each other ties and cuff links. Lita unwrapped a beautiful, delicate gold charm bracelet that had been her aunt Angela’s. She hugged Uncle Enzo for an extra long time before she gave him his other gift, a new Fedora. His had fraying around the edges from where he rubbed it for luck when he played. Then she and Lorenzo laughed because she gave him new Ferragamo loafers while he presented her with Ferragamo spectator T strap pumps. The phone rang. Uncle Enzo motioned them to continue, as he knew it was his cousin Eduardo in Italy, who always called at the same time every Christmas.

Lorenzo thanked Lita for the new dark red cashmere sweater and Lita exclaimed over the vintage red taffeta cocktail dress. They sat on the sofa after Lita finished holding the dress up and twirling. Lorenzo chuckled before he kissed her.

“I’ve got a few more things, but I want to wait until Uncle Enzo leaves,” he whispered.

“I don’t have anything else for you…I mean…”

“I don’t expect anything, Lita,” he said. She studied him, surprised there was no sarcastic or bitter undertone in his statement. “I meant what I said the night of our engagement. I want you happy.”

“I want us both happy,” she said as he leaned in for another kiss, which was soon interrupted by Uncle Enzo.

“Eduardo and Mena send their regards,” Uncle Enzo said. “I ought to get ready soon. Frank appreciates punctuality, as do I.”

“Need to get into his good graces, huh?” Lorenzo said with a sly grin.

“I suppose it would make things more pleasant,” Uncle Enzo said, standing.

“It does, not that I’d know,” Lorenzo said.

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

Lita sensed a fight brewing. “He is, thank you. It’s been wonderful, the best Christmas ever. Thank you both.” Lita rose and kissed Uncle Enzo’s cheek. “We’ll see you around one-thirty?”

“Yes, as long as Frank doesn’t throw me out before then,” he said before chuckling. They all knew Celeste would never let that happen.

“I put our gifts for Celeste and the D’Angelos in your car already,” Lorenzo said. “Give them our best.”

Uncle Enzo nodded and went to his rooms. Lorenzo stood.

“I’ll finish the dishes,” he said.

Lita nodded. “I’ll clean up in here.”

She watched him walk out. She frowned as she picked up the torn wrapping paper then rolled the wired ribbon to save. She sat and contemplated the Christmas tree, a porcelain Italianate angel topping it. Is that how Lorenzo viewed her, an unreachable, cold angel? She rubbed her arms.

“Should I build a fire?” Lorenzo asked as he set a mug of hot cocoa on the coffee table in front of her.

Lita nodded and thanked him for the cocoa. He shrugged and piled kindling and a few cinnamon pinecones before adding the logs. He used three matches, but it sparked and lit, slowly at first, before it blazed up, the orange-blue flames dancing near the bricks. He dusted his hands, stood, and joined Lita on the sofa. Uncle Enzo called goodbye as he opened the front door.

Lorenzo rose again and took three presents from the pile under the tree. He handed them to her and eased next to her. “Open this one first.”

She did and laughed. It was two red crinolines, to make her new dress fluff out nicely.

“The woman at the shop said you’d want those for the dress to hang properly.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Too close to lingerie to give you in front of Uncle Enzo,” he mumbled when she gave him a questioning glance. He pointed to the next largest box.

Lita carefully pulled open the box and pushed back the pink and black tissue paper. A lacy red demi cup bra and matching lace abbreviated tap pants nestled there. Lita fingered it. “I…thanks.”

“I have no expectations, I swear. I bought it at the same time as the pajamas I gave you that night. I thought you’d like to wear it under the dress. If I know you, you like to look beautiful from the inside out.” He studied his hands, which rested on his thighs.

“That’s…I…” She gave up and kissed him. He smiled and handed her the last box, small and square. “Oh,” she breathed out as she held up the gold diamond heart on its thin gold chain. She glanced at him, overcome. He slid it from her and around her neck. It brushed her bare skin, at first chill then warm from her own heat. He fastened the clasp and left his hands on her.

“I give you my heart, Lita,” he said in a low, rough voice. “Whatever happens, when you wear this, remember you have my heart.”

The boxes toppled to the floor as Lita faced him. “You’ve always had mine, now and forever. I love you.”

“I love you,” he said. He caressed her, from her forehead to her chin, letting his hand linger. She pressed it over her heart before she kissed him.

This man was everything, the air she breathed, the water she drank, the food she ate, the sun which warmed her. She cupped his cheeks, smooth and strong, in her hands. They drew each other closer. Their kisses sent her over the edge of a cliff freefalling into Lorenzo’s arms. Her mind, still blurred from the drop, lagged behind her body, present and rapt in him.

He teased her nipples through her bra and she moaned. She pushed her hands up his thighs, finding him. She smiled through their kisses at his growing need. Rubbing him, she moved her other hand toward his waist, poised to go under. He grasped her arms and distanced them. She blinked and froze. He looked away, lay back, and pulled her to him, her head on his chest. He exhaled and stroked her hair. What just happened? She smoothed her brow and tugged at her shirt. She was ready for more. Her hands itched to feel him. She swallowed. She knew he wanted her, maybe even more than she wanted him.

“It’s not all about sex for me, either,” he said. He remembered what she said those few weeks ago before they’d broken up for one night. She thought he didn’t really listen. Why couldn’t they get in sync? They were when they kissed, but now, she wanted to give him more and he stopped. Usually it was the opposite.

“What’s your wish for next Christmas?” she asked. It was her standard Christmas question. He’d heard it before.

“To hold you, like this, only in our bed, after we’ve made love,” he said in a hoarse voice.

She glanced up at him. His forehead creased and his eyes were dark, as if…he didn’t believe that would ever happen. He closed his eyes and she snuggled her cheek into his chest. She must be wrong. He was difficult to read sometimes. Though it was odd he’d answered her seriously. He used to make up funny answers, like play with a bunny or kiss a cat. Oh. She shifted her position. It had only taken her a few years, but now she understood. How many other times had she misunderstood him or some other man? Probably too many to count. She touched her cheek. It burned as hot as some other parts of her had a few minutes before. She liked the other feeling better.