Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
“Paddy, I’ve just gotten off a three-hour long Valentini gift-opening video call where all my nieces and nephews decided to surprise us with an off-key rendition of a horrendous Sicilian carol!
I don’t have time for this. I have three girls to get ready, and as far as I’m aware, you know how to dress yourself. ”
Not that you could tell from the heinous Christmas sweater he wore.
It looked like it had been made from the fur Pebbles’s shed.
Watching me tug the rollers from my hair, he wailed, “But Lena’s like you. She makes me dress right!”
“It isn’t a crime. Luc said he bought you a capsule closet. That means everything matches everything else.”
“Since when did blue and brown go together?”
“Since 2020.”
He hissed out a breath and stared mournfully at the blue silk suit he’d hung on his bathroom door and the loafers Luc had paired with them.
Because he seemed completely lost, I sighed. “What is it, Dad?”
He peeped at me. “I want to look nice for her.”
“And you will. Luc wouldn’t steer you wrong.” I glanced at my watch, hoping the gesture would distract him. “Thank you for this, by the way.”
His shoulders straightened. “You like it?”
Relieved, I smiled at him. “I do.” And I did.
I had a feeling Lena had helped him pick it out, but I’d take it—it was a very pretty, slimline Patek Philippe. But even better, it was vintage. I liked that it had character, and I liked even more that they’d both worked out that I’d changed.
The Jen of before had wanted everything shiny. I’d been a magpie for brands and designers. Now, I needed something else. Luciu had given me expensive tastes too.
“I’m glad, honey.” His gaze softened. “What did that boy get you?”
“He’s not a boy, Dad.”
“He is to me!”
I tutted. “He bought me a yacht.”
“Christ Almighty—a boat?! He bought you a boat?”
“A yacht,” I corrected with a dry smile. “It’s moored in Monaco. It’s where we became official.”
“Official? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Never you mind.”
“So you haven’t seen it?”
“Only pictures. We’re in Catania.”
“You’re still okay with us coming, aren’t you?”
“Of course. Just don’t flirt with Lauren. I don’t want to be tending to your cheeks when Luc and Stan cut them to shreds. You don’t even want to know what Rory’ll do to you.”
“I’ll be bringing Lena! Of course I wouldn’t flirt in front of her. She’d have my balls, never mind my cheeks.”
“I don’t get why you like her so much. Not unless you’re a masochist.”
“A maso-what-now?”
“Like pain.”
He rubbed his chin. “Like Evel Knievel?”
“No.” I heaved a sigh. “Never mind. Look, is your fashion crisis over? Can I get onto clothing my babies for the day?!”
“You sure about the brown and blue?”
“Deadly.”
He harrumphed.
“Did you call Liam?”
“He didn’t pick up.”
“What did you say to him now?” I chided. Honestly, having a half-brother and a father was such a pain in the ass. I didn’t know how Luciu coped with two siblings.
“Nothing!”
“Liar.”
“I’m not lying.”
When he scratched his chin again, I drawled, “You need to shave. Lena will give you shit if you’re scratching like you have fleas.”
“I don’t have fleas!”
“Well, stop scratching then.” I folded my arms across my chest. “What did you say to Liam?”
“I didn’t!” he protested. “I spoke to Gracie.”
“So, she gave you shit on his behalf?”
“That one’s got a nastier tongue on her than you do.”
I smirked. “She definitely handed you your ass, huh?”
“Fi?!”
My head whipped to the side when Luc called. I held up a hand at my father to shut him up and yelled back, “Luc?”
A flurry of Sicilian came next, so I heaved an impatient sigh and pointed at the screen. “Blue and brown look good together. I think Lena will appreciate your slutty, little new specs so wear them too—”
“My slutty-what-now?! Why aren’t you speaking English today? Too long in Sicily, that’s what—”
“Bye, Dad!” I cut him off before I got a lecture about how I should stay in the city where it was safe.
Safe.
Right.
Leaving my cell on the vanity in my dressing room, I darted into the bedroom where Luc stood—
“For God’s sake. What the hell were you thinking?” I bustled over to him and yanked on his hand until I could guide him into the bathroom. “I told you not to use the coal!”
“It’s tradition! They have to learn about La Befana!”
“It isn’t even Epiphany yet,” I chided as I wiped his face clean of coal dust. “And do I even want to know how this happened?”
“Saverina happened. She ran into the backs of my legs. Down I went.”
“Don’t pout,” I grumbled, grabbing my makeup wipes and using one to cleanse his face. “I’m the one who should be pouting! My husband’s covered in three-million-year-old fossil dust and trying to terrify our children into thinking that a witch will judge whether they’ve been naughty or nice.”
“She isn’t a witch. I never thought she was. She just chose not to go with the Three Wise Men!”
“Your mother says she’s a witch. If you want to argue with her, I’ll be there in ringside seats. Until then, why did our daughter attack you?”
“Saverina tried to sneak out. I caught her dressed in a swimsuit—”
My eyes widened in horror. “She wanted to go swimming?!”
“Said it wasn’t fair that we were making her wear a dress when she wanted to be a mermaid.” His lips twitched. “If she hadn’t scared the shit out of me, I’d have laughed. She made a tail out of toilet paper roll.”
“It isn’t funny!” I said around a laugh of my own. “She didn’t think the toilet paper would get wet?”
“She said Ursula would make it real.”
“Ah, fuck.” I’d done too good a job of making my daughter love the Disney villains. “It’s going to be one of those days, isn’t it? Where is she now?”
“With Matri.”
“And Lauren was in on the La Befana preview, was she?”
“Not exactly.” He rested his head on the swell of my stomach. “Please, God, let this be a boy.”
I stroked my fingers through his hair, uncaring that he was dirtying my white robe. “Your sperm makes the best girl babies.”
He moaned pitifully. “It really does.”