Chapter 7 And the Winner Is… #3
“Well, yeah. You cook for us all the time. My apartment’s tiny, but, you know—”
“That would be awesome,” Isaac said, staring up at him.
The day had been warm, but a breeze had picked up, and it fluttered Luca’s toffee-brown hair, riffling it just a tad.
His eyes—that dark, dark brown that could appear black in some light—hadn’t strayed from Isaac’s face, and Isaac was suddenly assailed by his warmth, pulled into the sphere of this nice man who was bringing laughter and family into his life, with barely a kiss on the cheek as encouragement.
God, he was beautiful.
And then he smiled, and his beauty grew exponentially. “I look forward to it,” he murmured, and then, without warning, he dipped his head and captured Isaac’s lips. Isaac gasped, leaning forward, and before he could have the predictable tiny war with himself, Luca pulled back.
“Isaac?”
“Yeah?”
“You said something nice about Todd tonight.”
Isaac shrugged. “He couldn’t have been all bad.” But inside, he felt the enormity of that.
“You spent ten years with him. It’s okay if you talk about him. Remember that, okay?”
Isaac nodded, his lips tingling. “Okay,” he whispered.
Another kiss—lingering, aching, and sweet.
This time, when Luca pulled back, he said, “You and me, we can be a thing. An amazing thing. It can happen. Todd’s always going to be there, but, you know… in time he’ll be less important than he is now.”
Isaac gazed into his eyes. “He’s already faded,” Isaac murmured. “All I can see is you.”
One more kiss, longer, Luca’s tongue invading his mouth, Isaac clinging to his collared shirt, and then Luca pulled away. “So sweet,” he murmured, rubbing Isaac’s lower lip with his thumb. “See you tomorrow.”
Isaac watched him hop into his truck, and he saw Allegra’s joyful thumbs-up as they drove away.
He took an extra minute, though, staring at the pink sky of late spring, smelling cut grass and the river, which was close by.
It didn’t smell brand-new, pinks and crocuses new, and the mustard flowers and almond blossoms had long since come and gone.
But it smelled ripe new. Summer hay new. Sleepy afternoons and dappled shadows new. Fall was a long way off, and winter but a fluttered harbinger of rain.
Isaac turned his face to that promise of summer and smiled.
THE NEXT morning, he woke up with Euclid breathing cat breath in his face, begging for his breakfast. Isaac made him work for it, petting him until he forgot about breakfast, flopped over, and drooled so Isaac could go back to sleep for another half hour.
But only a half hour.
He needed to spend an hour cleaning off the kitchen table, down to the tablecloth, which was…
dusty, at best. He found another one—something bright and green and yellow—and a table runner that he’d crocheted with orange cotton yarn that Todd had kept hidden in the back of the linen closet out of mortification.
When the table was set, he grabbed the vacuum and made an extra pass—the maid service came on Wednesday, and he had a cat now, so company on Saturday meant a little extra effort.
And speaking of cat….
He changed Euclid’s litter out, wiped down the bathroom and put fresh soaps in the dish, and got out his good towels, making sure the pretty little flower insignia was turned out.
Todd used to insist on the good linens, but they never had guests. Isaac had gotten used to using the regular, comfy, faded towels in the last year and a half, but now, with guests coming over, he was remembering some of the joys of a little formality.
Little touches—his touches—helped make his home welcoming.
It felt like a whole new house.
With an hour left to spare, he made a quick trip to the market—crackers, cookies, tea, and fruit—as well as, just for himself, a bouquet of flowers.
By the time Allegra knocked on the door, he felt like he’d bloomed, for the first time after a long, long winter.
Allegra came in, carrying groceries and ushering in her grandmother, while Isaac peered around them, wondering where Luca and his grandfather were.
“Luca’s taking him on a tour,” Allegra said. “He’s redone the bathrooms, the kitchen, and the hardwood in all the bedrooms. Painting comes next, and they can put it on sale by the fall. Grandpa’s really excited.”
“Not you, Mrs. Giordano?”
“Call me Sophia,” she said happily. “Since my Allegra and her baby are going to move in here, you can call me Sophia, and I can call you Isaac.” She smiled, her lined face showing off the same dimples she must have had as a girl.
“Of course, Sophia,” he said, offering his arm.
She allowed him to escort her to one of the stuffed chairs, which had a small coffee table next to it at the perfect height.
She could work on her project and sip tea and chat in perfect comfort.
She could also (and Isaac had seen her do this before) fall asleep mid-sentence, tilt her head back, and snooze without needing to be moved.
“Well, I’m moving in first,” Allegra said from the kitchen. “Isaac and I are going to see if it will work before we commit. I’m something of a slob, you know.”
Sophia laughed softly. “I know,” she said, leaning her head conspiratorially toward Isaac.
“I used to watch her and Luca when they were children. Luca, he could be counted on to clean up his toys. This one? She would get so unhappy. ‘Nonna!’ she’d say.
‘I want to wake up and have my dolls in place to play the same way!’” She laughed, and Isaac nodded, but inside he was thinking that was a very wise way to play.
“Oh my God, Isaac!” Allegra called, coming down toward the dining room so she could peer out at Isaac and Sophia. “The flowers, the clean table—it’s so wonderful! And this table runner. Did you show Nonna?”
“Is it the orange one?” Sophia said. “With the flowers worked in filet crochet?”
“Yeah,” Isaac said, unable to hide his proud smile. “It looks really good. You’ll see it when we eat. In the meantime, stay right there and I’ll get you some tea and cookies.”
“You spoil me,” she said happily, getting out her yarn.
Isaac had already put the kettle on and was pleased to see it was almost boiling so he could set up the tea service while Allegra put away groceries. Together they achieved a sort of dance around the kitchen where they each accomplished a task without getting in each other’s way.
“The place setting really is special,” she said as she pulled out a covered glass bowl full of vegetables soaking in some sort of dressing. “Now I’m going to put this in a sunspot and leave it, okay? It’s part of the pesto, but it doesn’t need cooking, it just needs warming.”
Isaac gave her a bemused glance. “You can cook pesto without cooking?”
“Very funny. No—you cut up the cherry tomatoes and the cilantro and the garlic and then add oil and vinegar. You leave it in the sun for a few hours to season, and then you cook the pasta and grill the chicken. When it’s all cooked, you cut up the chicken and toss it with the pesto and the pasta, and voila!
This really good fresh dish that’s not too hot for summer. ”
“That’s amazing. Luca knows how to make this because?”
“Because Nonna told him about it once,” Allegra said, laughing.
“Luca’s funny. He doesn’t cook on the regular, but he’ll watch YouTubers and TikTokers, and sometimes he’ll see something that makes sense to him and he wants to see if it will work.
The only drawback to this is you have to praise him to the skies—like, forever—when he does it, or he may never cook again. ”
“Good to know,” Isaac said. He pulled the kettle off as it started to whistle and poured the boiling water into three rose-themed porcelain cups. They’d been a gift from Todd, Isaac recalled, stunned still for a moment.
“They’re lovely,” Isaac said, pleased as he pulled the wrapping off the set of six. The matching teapot had been in the first box he’d opened, surprised to see the two big Christmas gifts under Todd’s small and tasteful tree. “Thank you!”
“The neighbor is always commenting on how plain the white is,” Todd said with a sniff. “This way she can just drink the damned tea.”
Isaac ran his finger over the rim of the cup, noticing that there was a tiny rosebud at the bottom of each one, with little green leaves, to match the motifs on the outside. He half expected the pretty cup to be darker somehow, sullied with Todd’s sulking, but it was, in fact, still delightful.
Isaac had made a point of using the cups the next time Sophia had come to visit, and Todd had given him a kiss on the temple, telling him his service looked perfect, a rare public display of affection and a very rare compliment.
It wasn’t until that moment that Isaac realized that the sulking had been a front. This was, indeed, a gift of thoughtfulness and beauty, and Isaac had almost missed it.
“Isaac?” Allegra’s voice penetrated his thoughts. “What’s up? Where are you?”
Isaac shook himself. “Nothing,” he said softly. “I just remembered when Todd gave me this tea set.”
“Good memory?” she asked carefully.
“Believe it or not, yes,” he said, and then he picked up the tray and took it into the front room so she wouldn’t see his shiny eyes.
But he made a resolution to tell Luca about it when he could—he thought Luca would want to know.
LUCA AND his grandfather (“Call me Geordie now, since you’re giving Allegra a place to stay!”) came in half an hour later, and Luca shooed Isaac back into the living room while he brought in some tea and cookies for his Pop Pop.
What followed was… well, the same visit Isaac had enjoyed dozens of times with Sophia, but with the added happiness of Allegra and Luca mixed in.
In fact, the entire day was a success, from the yarning to the snacks to Luca’s amazing dinner, which included a salad course, the pasta, and a small dish of ice cream at the end—and wine.
“Nonna and Pop Pop are crazy about wine with dinner,” Luca told him almost apologetically as Isaac helped him prepare. “You’re not obligated to drink it, and trust me, I’m driving Pop Pop’s Caddy, so I’ll be taking little tiny sips, but I’d better have wine or I’ll hear about it later.”
Isaac had nodded seriously, because hey, he didn’t know the rules!
But as they moved around each other, as smooth in the dance as Isaac and Allegra had been earlier, Isaac found himself telling Luca about the tea set, and how it was a good memory, and how he’d almost forgotten.
“Really?”
Isaac was, in fact, washing the tea service as Luca prepared dinner, and he moved over Isaac’s shoulder to get a better look at the delicately beautiful cups.
“I’m not going to touch them,” he said softly.
“I just wanted to see. You’re right—they’re lovely.
” He leaned over Isaac’s shoulder, and Isaac set the cup down in the warm soapy water so he could lean back against Luca’s heat without fumbling the cup and losing it.
Naturally—so naturally—Luca kissed his temple.
“Is that… that okay?” Isaac asked, welcoming Luca’s arms around his shoulders as this quiet moment—intimate in a way he hadn’t known his heart was chambered for—enveloped them.
“I’m glad,” Luca murmured, rubbing their cheeks together. “It’s good, Isaac. Like you said, you spent ten years with him. I’m so glad they weren’t all bad.” He nuzzled Isaac’s temple again and then stepped back. “I’ve got to finish dinner or the chicken’ll burn, but thanks, Isaac.”
“For what?” Isaac turned to watch him, fascinated by how smoothly his solid muscular body moved, how comfortably in Isaac’s borderline fussy home.
“For telling me about that. I… I mean, I’ll be afraid to pick those cups up from now on, because God forbid I break one, but thanks.
I mean, it’s easy for me to hate the evil ex.
But finding things—good things—to like about him?
That’s important. It means you know how to love.
Someday you’ll know how to love someone else.
That’s all. So thank you. It was a good memory. That makes me happy.”
Luca went back to work, and Isaac finished drying the tea set and putting it away, but inside, he was feeling that kiss on the temple, the gentle rubbing of cheeks, and reliving Luca’s words.
How was it he had met such a man, who was so simply interested in Isaac’s well-being that he could be happy for a good memory of another relationship?
Isaac wasn’t sure, but that evening, as he sipped wine and listened to Nonna and Pop Pop tell more stories about their grandchildren, he felt a certain resolution.
More of this. More of Luca and Allegra’s family in his life. More evening meals and Saturday afternoons yarning. More life in his life.
Maybe—just maybe—more of Luca’s soft touches, his warm arms, the breadth of his chest.
More of that too.