Chapter 35
ENZO
“Che botta al cuore,” my grandfather used to say when something big happened.
What a hit to the heart.
My family had thought I was making the worst mistake of my life—and even though they were wrong, they’d shown up at the exact moment I needed them most. They’d shown up for me the way I’d always shown up for them, and it had solidified something for me.
I wasn’t the rock expected to take care of his whole family.
No, we were a family of people who took care of each other.
A family we all wanted Lucy to be part of.
And ten hours—of insufferable bickering, traffic stops, and Nico’s constant demands for piss breaks—later, we finally reached Hideaway Harbor.
But Lucy wasn’t home at her apartment or in the rec center, where the dance was letting out. So I went to search the bridge, the place where we’d both gone looking for answers at the beginning of the month.
My family and I were only partway there when her mother’s letter, flying in the wind, hit me in the chest like a homing pigeon.
A hit to the heart indeed.
When I finally wrapped my arms around her, it felt so deeply right there was a burning behind my eyes.
Still is. I can’t seem to let her go. I’m not going to cry, obviously, but I’ve come much closer to tears than I’d like.
Lucia. My Lucy. My woman.
A mutual love for competition brought us together, and I’m determined nothing will ever tear us apart. She makes me want something more than professional success.
“I’m taking her home,” I say, turning toward my family, Lucy still in my arms. “Thank you. God, thank you so much.”
My grandmother smacks my arm. “Don’t be late for dinner tomorrow. You both will stay at the house afterward. Nico and Giovanni too.”
It’s not a question. I glance at Lucy for her response—because if it’s a no for her, I’ll do battle with my grandmother.
But Lucy nods, her face glowing. “We will.”
We walk hand in hand to her apartment, and once we’re there, we take a shower together while I tell her all about Barry and Santa Claus and getting locked out.
“Rachelle tried to seduce you?” she asks with a degree of jealousy I appreciate as I glide the washcloth over her body.
“I don’t think she put much effort into it.”
She smiles at me and slides her hand over my cock. “Now, I’m even more insulted. I’d expect way better than a token effort for all of this.”
“The things you do to me,” I say.
“I can do more of them, if you’d like.”
“Oh, absolutely, I would like.”
Later, she lets me read the letter she wrote me when she was worried I wouldn’t come home, and I feel a steely resolve form inside of me. I never want her to feel like that again, like I might have abandoned her.
I will never abandon her.
On Christmas Eve morning, I use Lucia’s landline to call Barry and negotiate the return of my cell phone, wallet, and car keys.
I warn him not to go into my apartment, under any circumstances, and I learn he’s already been in there.
Why am I not surprised?
Apparently, he found a self-help book my sister gave me for Christmas two years ago as a gag gift—How to Unfuck Your Life—and it’s changed his life.
Afterward, I call Martin to inform him that I won’t be taking the job.
“I figured as much when you ghosted us,” he says gruffly, not at all amused. “I didn’t take you for that sort, Enzo.”
Maybe I should accept his criticism and move on with my life. But I’m not the sort. So I say, “I’m not.”
I tell him about being robbed by a drunk Santa—and end by thanking him for the opportunity but insisting that I’m where I need to be, with my family. All of them. To my surprise, he says he’ll be in touch about freelance opportunities.
I’ll probably take a few jobs like that, but I’ve decided where my focus needs to be for the next several months—helping Lucy bring CareWise to life. With the two of us working together, it can hardly fail.
Is it arrogant of me to think so? Abso-fucking-lutely. But if there’s one thing I disagree with Lucy’s mom about, it’s the dangers of arrogance. There’s nothing wrong with having confidence in your abilities, so long as you have the balls to back it up.
After I’m done making calls, I have one more trick to pull off…
Lucy’s present.
“Uh, no,” Lucy says when I tell her I have an errand to run. “You’re not going anywhere without me right now. You will have a literal stalker everywhere you go.”
“What if Giovanni comes with me?”
She considers this for a long moment before nodding. “Okay. But I swear to God, if you disappear for hours on end, I will come find you.”
“Is that supposed to be a threat?” I ask, laughing as I pull her to me by the tantalizing little ribbon securing the collar of her sweater.
“It is a threat.”
“You can always come find me. Except for now. Definitely don’t try now. It would ruin everything.”
She gives me a suspicious look. “You’re being very mysterious.”
“Thank God, I’m glad it’s working. I’ll be right back.”
Half an hour later, I return with her present wrapped in a warm blanket.
I knock on the door, and Lucy opens it with a gasp. “What’s this?”
“Your present is ready early,” I tell her as I walk in, and shut the door behind me, “and I didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone.”
I offer her the bundle, and she takes it from me—and gasps when the little calico kitten meows.
“He’s yours,” I say out loud.
Ours, I say in my head, because I’m a man who’s all about efficiency, and there’s nothing efficient about living down the hall from your girlfriend.
“But Enzo, we can’t have pets in this building. I won’t be able to keep him.”
The way she says it, so sorrowful, makes me grin. Not because I’m cruel, but because we’ve just gotten to my real present—
“You will,” I say, my heart full as I watch her burrow her nose into the kitten’s fur. “Did I not tell you I can convince anyone of anything, Lucia?”
She gapes at me, her surprise totally worth the price of talking to the landlord for several hours to negotiate the kitten’s stay.
One of the harder bargains I’ve made. I also tried to convince Bodhi Wilde to hand over the only kitten at his cat sanctuary, but he’d grown too fond of it, so I had to go elsewhere.
“You did this for me?” she asks, setting the kitten down.
“And I’d do so much more.”
She wraps her arms around my neck. “I love you, Enzo.”
I’ve never heard sweeter words.
“I love you too, Dancing Queen.” I bend my head and kiss her before turning to the cat to rub his little head. “What are you going to name him?”
She grins at me, then at the kitten. “He looks an awful lot like a Lobster Stalker.”
“A terrible name, Lucia.”
“It’s a perfect name. Incidentally, it’s time for your present, but it’s going to look lame in comparison now.”
“Excellent,” I say, tapping my fingers together. “I’m pleased to have won the gift-off.”
She laughs and kisses my cheek before going to the hall closet to pull out a wrapped gift. “Do not, under pain of death, shake it, Enzo. You’ll ruin everything.”
I open it—and laugh my ass off when I see it’s a framed poster for Cats the movie. “Do I have to put it up?”
“It’s a joke,” she says, nudging my shoulder with hers. “Open up the frame and take the poster out.”
I painstakingly follow her directions, and what I find has me grinning stupidly at her.
Beneath the poster is a big-headed sketch of us, like the bobblehead caricature drawings she talked about the night she was drunk off buttered rum.
The sketch portrays her drawing a mustache on my face with a green marker.
“This is epic,” I say, kissing her. “But it was red.”
She laughs. “It looked like you a had a bloody lip, so we had to stretch reality.”
“Did you get Charlie to do this?”
“She took a break from her oil painting of the German shepherd because she loves me.”
“It’s going over our mantel.”
She raises her eyebrows, but there’s a smile dancing on her lips. “Pretty presumptuous.”
“Damn straight. It won’t happen today, and it probably won’t happen next week, but it’s going to happen.”
“Well, if Enzo Cafiero says it’s going to happen…”
We walk to my grandmother’s house, hand in hand, carrying Lobster Stalker in the pet carrier that’s been hiding in my closet. My heart is full, and I have nothing but goodwill in my chest for everyone we pass. Even Hudson.
When we get to my grandmother’s house, I knock on the door, and Aria answers. She has a deep tan, offset by her red sweater, and her dark hair is loose around her shoulders.
I nearly drop Lobster Stalker’s carrier.
“You little fucking liar,” I say, setting him on the doorstep. I squeeze Lucy’s hand and then hug my sister, who’s laughing maniacally.
“Finally. Finally, I got one over on you. It’s only taken twenty-five years.”
I give her a hug powerful enough to lift her off her feet.
When I release her, she turns toward Lucy and immediately wraps her in a bear hug.
“Oh my God. I’m Aria, and I can’t wait to become friends with you.
I’ve been trying to imagine the woman who could get through to Enzo, and I just know the reality is going to be better than my imagination could ever be.
How did this asshole win you over, anyway? ”
Lucy grins and looks at me affectionately. “He crashed my date and drew a poster of me with a hairy mole on my forehead. Then he lent me his scarf without telling me everyone in Hideaway Harbor would know it was his.”
Aria laughs, delighted. “What a charmer! And you fell for him anyway. Good for you, Enzo. Too bad for you, Lucy, but I’m not sorry about it.”
Lucy wraps her arms around my waist. “Neither am I.”
“She left out the part where I saved her from a Porta Potty,” I say, and Lucy tickles me. She tickles me. And I’ll be damned if I don’t laugh.
Christmas music starts playing inside the house—Nonna’s choice, I’m guessing, because it’s Dean Martin—and Giovanni dances into view with a nonexistent partner.
“Dance with Nonna, you goon,” Aria yells, and we walk inside with Lobster Stalker.
“I warn you now, Lucia,” I tell her, “we converse by yelling in this family.”
“I knew I felt at home for a reason,” she says, her eyes shining.
We spend the rest of the day cooking for the Feast of the Seven Fishes, something Nonna insists we all do together, even though only she, Nico, Lucy, and Aria have any skill in the kitchen.
It’s loud, it’s chaotic. Nonna nearly throws a plate at Lobster Stalker when he tries to steal a shrimp.
I wouldn’t prefer to be anywhere else in the world.
When we feast together, it feels like we earned it. Other friends stop by to enjoy some of the courses with us. Portia arrives first with Amanda, whom Aria is clearly starstruck over but tries not to be obvious about it. Eileen arrives shortly afterward.
She sits down at the empty place setting next to Lucy and says, “Giovanni’s next, I think.”
“Next for what?” I ask.
Lucy mimes a chopping block.
“Next to be murdered?” I guess, giving her a wry smile.
“Next to fall in love,” Eileen says in a dreamy voice.
I feel like they’re counting on me to make some kind of joke, but I don’t have it in me. I’m too full of joy, of the feeling of family.
“You’re right,” I say. “He’s actually been helping me screw my head on straight ever since I came home. And I get the sense he’s a little heartbroken over his ex-girlfriend.”
Eileen grimaces.
“Oh no, Eileen…” Lucy makes a face, glancing across the table at Giovanni, who’s telling an animated story to Aria, who seems more interested in our conversation. “You’re the one who set his ex up with someone else, aren’t you?”
“All will be resolved,” Eileen says enigmatically. “I’ll find the perfect woman for him in no time.” She sighs and says, “You know, I never thought I’d say this, but it’s too bad Charlie’s getting married.”
“Eileen,” Lucy says, while I laugh.
“Oh, I’m only kidding. She’s much too similar to him anyway. A person needs their foil. I’ll be giving this plenty of thought.”
“Giovanni won’t know what hit him,” I say with a laugh.
Just then, my grandmother bangs on the table, hard enough that the baccalà jumps on its plate. “I have an announcement to make.”
“Come on, Nonna, you don’t need to scare us all to death,” Aria says, rolling her eyes.
She gets the glare she knows she’s earned. Then our grandmother turns to the table as a whole, wagging a finger at us, “You think I haven’t noticed you children taking turns spending the night at my house?”
We exchange glances, because yeah, we figured we’d gotten away with it, or that she hadn’t minded enough to question it.
“Well, I have noticed. I may be old, but I’m not stupid,” she says. “There’s no need to interrupt your lives to be here every night. If it becomes necessary for me to have someone every night, I’ll hire a companion.” She nods to Lucy. “Lucia has offered to help me find someone.”
I gape at her, shocked by the easy use of my nickname for her as much as the offer. “What is it with the women in my life pulling one over on me lately?”
“You owe me at least that for the five heart attacks you gave me this week,” Lucy murmurs.
“There will be no further discussion on this,” Nonna says regally. Then she adds aggressively, “Why has no one tried the baccalà? You must all eat, eat.”
We stuff ourselves and then watch Christmas movies in the family room before we walk to the church together for midnight mass—the one time of year all of us grandchildren go to church with Nonna.
Church lets out at midnight, and we spill out together, the whole city seeming to glow with twinkle lights.
“It’s Christmas,” Aria says with a glow. “Let’s make snow angels.”
Lucy grins up at me, and I don’t even ask if she wants to do it. I know. So I grab her hand, and we run over to join Aria on the snow-covered lawn—all of us flopping down onto it to make angel impressions in the days-old snow with our arms and legs outstretched.
The snow is disgusting, but I feel brilliantly alive.
“Let’s go put a hat and gloves on Nico’s ice sculpture to see if it comes to life,” Lucy suggests when we get up, panting from the freezing cold.
“Oh, come on, Lucy,” Nico gripes. “I thought we were friends.”
“I have enough nightmares,” Giovanni tells her with a theatrical shudder. “But I’m all for putting a ski mask on it so we don’t have to see his ugly mug every time we go to the Locke Reserve.”
“Children,” Nonna says regally. “You will all be going home and getting snug in your beds so Santa can come bring you some coal.”
“I wouldn’t want to miss my coal,” Lucy said. “And I definitely don’t want to upset Mrs. Cafiero, so I’m all for going home.”
Nonna pats Lucy on the shoulder. “You’re a good girl. You can call me Nonna.”
Lucy is mine, and she’s already been accepted as part of my family. It may only be just after midnight, but I swear to God, it’s already the best Christmas a man could possibly have.