Epilogue Two Months Later
Jacopo squeezed Nate’s hand as the plane’s engines rumbled to life beneath them, gearing up for takeoff. He had to reach around the weird little partition between first-class seats, and even though Nate was grateful for the relative comfort and leg room, he almost wished that he hadn’t splurged and that they were flying economy, crammed together leg-to-leg so that Jacopo could soak up as much comfort from his nearness as possible.
He gave him a sympathetic look. “Nervous?”
Jacopo swallowed, his face pale under the olive tan of his skin. “Always.”
“You should be an expert at this by now,” Nate said, with a teasing smile. They had flown a lot in the last few months, to Ireland, to meet Noemi and her moms, and back to Venice, and to a variety of other European cities that had been on both of their bucket lists. Jacopo might be an anxious flier, but he was a delight to travel with once he got on the ground, full of curiosity about food and history, surprisingly talkative with the locals–much more than Nate, who was self-conscious about coming off as a stupid American–waxing poetic over art and architecture and filling his camera roll with the weirdest little pictures of things he found personally amusing. Different parts of him were coming alive now that he had more freedom from the island, and Nate was falling in love with all of them.
“I know,” Jacopo said sheepishly. “But I still hate the takeoff and the landing.” The pad of this thumb made little circles in Nate’s palm. “And this will be such a long flight. And I’m worried about the cats while we’re gone. And my plants.”
“They’re in good hands with Mirabella and Antonio.” Mirabella had sent him a picture a few hours ago of baby Elio napping in his carrier, with Gnocchi investigating, sniffing his feet.
“I don’t really know what people are supposed to do at Thanksgiving.” Jacopo leaned back against the headrest, still holding Nate’s hand. “What if I embarrass myself?”
“There’s nothing to it. All you have to do is eat a lot of food and watch football.”
“Oh, no. Football, again?”
“You’ll be fine. Everyone’s excited to see you.” And they were; Nate could promise that, even if he couldn’t promise anything on Jacopo’s side. It hadn’t been all sun-soaked vacation days and cathedrals and museums and sex in various European cities. There had been a lot of weirdness, too. Jacopo’s parents were still distant, though Beatrice had come to dinner once or twice at the castle. Some of the older villagers still gave them a wide berth, or pretended–like Nonna–that Nate and Jacopo were just very good friends, despite a lot of evidence to the contrary.
There had been weirdness on Nate’s end, too. Meeting Noemi had sent him into a panicked tailspin about being a stepdad, through no fault of hers. She was bright and awkward and funny, and even liked Green Day, though she called it classic rock, which had made Nate feel like he was ready to shrivel up and die of old age right there. But Nate had had to hide in Lucia and Caitlin’s bathroom for a few minutes until he calmed down, and even now he didn’t know how he felt about it, except that he probably did want to marry Jacopo someday, so he’d have to get used to everything that came with that.
And getting used to it would be a pleasure, despite all the hiccups. Nate didn’t know everything, but he knew he would be there, to kiss away the sad, faraway look Jacopo sometimes got, and to make stupid jokes and pop culture references that Jacopo was slowly starting to understand. And he knew that Jacopo would always be welcome at Barb and Dave’s house, no matter what. “Come on,” he said now, smiling at him. “You’ve got to be looking forward to it at least a little bit. You haven’t really lived until you’ve seen Dave dress the goats in green-and-yellow jerseys and gotten drunk on cheap beer while a grown man in a duck costume does pushups.”
“It does sound like an important cultural event.” Jacopo kissed his knuckles. He flinched as something clunked in the undercarriage of the plane. They were beginning to taxi down the runway, and Nate could feel Jacopo’s breath quicken against his skin.
“Music?” Nate held out an earbud.
“I’m not sure. The evils of American society aren’t very soothing.”
“I put Whitney Houston on there. That’s how much I love you.”
“Oh, Nate.” Jacopo smiled, and there were volumes in it. Taking the earbud, he settled back into his seat, and closed his eyes, and Nate gripped his hand back, just as tightly, as the engines roared and the plane sped up, detaching from the earth and gliding seamlessly up into the sky.