Chapter 18
18
PINOCCHIO
T he next two weeks are blissful as we build a new normal. As autumn winds down, Christmas is right around the corner, and shoppers want to purchase their gifts early. Suffice it to say, we’re busy. Papa is more of a friendly presence, mentoring Lampwick while the two of us put in more hours. We don’t want to overexert Papa, and there haven’t been any other illness-related incidents. As usual, I’m grateful to the heavens that he’s strong and healthy.
And this new normal, of course, includes my semi-secret affair with Lampwick. Our country isn’t accepting of homosexual relationships, so we can’t flaunt our newfound happiness. So we stick to what we were doing before; we’ve always been close and handsy, but now, every interaction has taken on a new meaning. While we haven’t formally told Papa, he occasionally gives us meaningful glances whenever Lampwick and I take long lunchtime walks together.
And those walks are truly special. No one comes by the creek near the abandoned shack, and it has quickly become my favorite place. I understand now why all the teenagers in school were obsessed with learning about sex. I never wanted it, but now, with Lampwick, I can’t get enough. Just the mere thought of going to the creek has my blood pumping, and lustful carnal desires fill my brain. We don’t chance it every day, but as often as I can, I try to dash away to get off with Lampwick in private.
We haven’t done more than fellatio, but his body lights me up every day, making me grateful to be alive. Being skin-on-skin with Lampwick makes me feel like a fulfilled man.
We spoon each other every night in my bed. I’ve never slept this well, and every day, I wake up with a smile on my face.
One evening, I finish ringing up a customer and wave to them as they leave the shop. Our Christmas toys are flying off the shelves, but with Lampwick carving regularly, the stock is never depleted. Since no one is around, I wonder if I can sneak away to see Lampwick. He’s probably napping or reading to Arpeggio. He’s so adorable…
My lustful thoughts are interrupted by Papa strolling in from the back room with his cane. “Huh?”
“I’m closing up shop,” he declares. He reaches our sign and flips it.
“But, but…”
“It’s not for you, Piccolo, it’s for me!” He tugs on a coat. The evenings are not that cold yet, but I don’t want to chance it with his health, so I move to help him with his scarf.
“What do you mean? We have sales to make.”
“They can come in tomorrow. There are twenty shopping days left until Christmas, after all.” He adjusts his glasses and smiles. “I’m going to the church.”
“Oh? There’s a mass at this hour?” I open the door for him and he walks out.
“Well, no. Mrs. Ricci is holding a group event in the basement.”
“A group event?”
“Yes!” He turns and gives me a serious look. “Piccolo, I’m old. That illness scare didn’t just affect you. I don’t need to raise you or work all the time. I deserve to enjoy life at my old age, and I can’t keep hanging out with only my son and my cat.”
My brow furrows. “What? You’re selling the shop?”
“No!” He laughs and adjusts his coat. “But I’m going to be spending less time here and more time with Mrs. Ricci’s senior club. We knit and chat books, and they make an excellent lasagna!” We momentarily chuckle. “You’re all grown up now, Piccolo. The store will survive if we close for one night. I’m going to do something fun with people my own age. I suggest you do the same.”
He looks around and leans in close. “Perhaps take Lampwick to see the new travelling puppet show?”
My cheeks warm. “Uh…”
Papa continues to whisper, saying, “The key to keeping a relationship interesting is to take your lover on dates.”
My mouth goes dry, and I’m sure I’m beet red at this point. I can’t tell if I’m ecstatic that Papa accepts us, or mortified that my father used the word lover . “Well…we, um…”
“You’ve been working hard.” He leans in and does a cheek kiss. “Go have fun, son. You have a great guy with you. Life is a gift, every day is a blessing, so go out and live it.” With that, he hobbles away to church.
I close the door and lock up, mulling over my papa’s words. I guess Lampwick and I aren’t as subtle as we thought. I should be uncomfortable that Papa knows I’ve made love to Lampwick, but honestly, I don’t mind. He supports me, and that’s more than what I could have hoped for from my dad.
As I make the short trek to the house, concern gnaws at my chest. Other young people go on public dates for courting, but the two of us haven’t done that. I know the world won’t accept us, but am I truly going to lose Lampwick by being…boring?
I walk through the back door of the cottage to spot my friend sitting at the kitchen table. He’s staring at a book, but when he notices me, his face goes from a frown to a smile. “Sticks! You’re back!”
He stands up and places his hands on my shoulders. I take the opportunity to lean forward and peck him on the lips.
His eyebrows rise, and he looks around. “Where’s your papa? Is he running the shop?”
“He actually closed it for the night.” I bite my lip and gaze at his perfect mouth. “So I was thinking…”
“That you and I could go cuddle by the creek?” he murmurs, leaning into my face.
I giggle and kiss him, then pull back. “Actually, do you wanna do something else?”
“Huh?”
“Let’s…go out. You and me.”
“Like…like out out?” he asks with a furrowed brow.
I nod quickly. “There’s a new puppet show outside of town. Everyone’s been talking about it. Want to…go with me?”
The smile on his face is as dazzling as a hundred stars.
* * *
The traveling show outside of town has set up several rows of wooden chairs for us, the audience. Over thirty other folks are scattered about in the seating area facing the massive, wooden stage on wheels. Six vendors have stalls flanking the coach, left and right, with various foods on sale. Twinkling lightbulbs are strung up around us, making for a picture-perfect holiday event.
The winter air in Italy hasn’t quite set in yet, so Lampwick and I aren’t uncomfortable sitting outside in the darkness. Our seats are way in the back, far from the world, just how I like it. If anyone recognizes us, we’re simply two friends, not two men on a date.
Is that what this is? I take in how handsome Lampwick looks to my right with the electric lights bathing him in a yellow glow. In his brown coat and matching hat, I need to fight back the urge to grab his hand or cuddle closer to him. As I discovered two weeks ago, his body fits mine so well.
“This ought to be corny fun,” he says with a smile, gazing at the stage. The show hasn’t started yet, and the audience, mostly younger folks like us, is buzzing with impending Christmas joy.
“Yes, it’s a great night for…a great date?” I bite my lip, and he eyes me with confusion. He’s wearing his tweed flat hat and matching vest over a light pink button-down shirt. His dark green trousers hug his thighs, making him look extra sexy. Meanwhile I’m donning my same old white button-down shirt and dark trousers.
“Date?”
“Yeah.” I wipe my sweaty hands on my lap. “Papa and every book I’ve ever read say that couples go on formal dates for courting. It keeps things interesting.” I gulp and fixate on the empty stage. “Unless you think this is weird.”
He snickers and I cast my gaze at him. He’s smiling just as brilliantly as ever. “I’m more than happy to do couple-y things and dates with you.”
He briefly touches my hand, and that fleeting gesture calms my soul. “I’m glad.”
“We don’t need to do dates, though.” He leans back. “I’m perfectly content living and working with you.”
“But I don’t want you to get bored of our relationship.”
He shrugs and his green eyes gaze at me. “I’ll never get bored of you, Pinocchio.”
My face hurts for smiling so hard. I want this forever . “Besides,” he continues, looking forward. “We had too many outlandish adventures as kids. When you spend weeks in a land of rides and games only for it to turn you into a donkey, you appreciate the uneventful life.”
We both chuckle and our voices blend in with the idle chatter around us. “The only event I need is being boyfriends with you,” he says quietly.
My breath hitches; I never thought I’d have a boyfriend. But Lampwick and I are a secret couple, and he’s so much more than my best friend.
“Lampo—”
“Oh, hey!” I turn to my left at the familiar voice. Giovanna approaches us, and my smile falls. She’s wearing a dark coat and a broad grin. “ Ciao , boys!”
“ Ciao ,” we say in unison. To my right, Lampwick’s face momentarily ticks with panic before his face goes blank.
“I’m so glad to be here with you two!” She sits next to me, and I notice that no one else is in our row. There are dozens of seats in front of us, and the girl who kissed me has chosen to join my date.
“You…are?” I glance back at Lampwick, who remains silent.
“I didn’t want to watch the show alone.” She looks over at Lampwick. “And now I have you two here!” Her voice is as chipper as ever, and I try to force a smile. Meanwhile, my feet are itching to dash away.
Before I can say more, the lights dim, and the puppets appear on the stage. Everyone in front of us claps and hollers as music begins to play.
Thirty minutes later, the host announces a ten-minute intermission. The lights go up, and several audience members begin to amble about to the food booths. I turn to my left, hoping Giovanna is bored of this show and is deciding to leave, but judging by her grin, no such luck.
“Hey, Lampwick, do you think you could get us some cider?” She reaches over me and hands my boyfriend three pieces of silver.
He eyes her hand with apprehension, then looks up at her face. He shoves his hands in his pockets and stands up. “My treat,” he says curtly. “I…owe your dad a debt.”
“Oh, no you don’t!” she replies.
“Yes, I do. Be back in five.” He walks away, and my smile falls. To my left, Giovanna shrugs and then puts her money back in her pocket.
“How is Signore Geppetto?”
“He’s good,” I reply. I fixate on Lampwick in the distance, waiting in the long line for cider.
“I have to say this Pinocchio,” she says in a lower tone. I turn my attention to see her grinning. “I’m so happy for you two.”
“What?”
“You and Lampwick,” she whispers. “I’m so overjoyed you two worked things out.”
I open my mouth to argue, but the futility of it all hits me. Giovanna knows me well, and I trust her to not be malicious. After taking a breath, I reply, “It’s…very new.”
“But you two are so cute together!” She leans back and says, “I’m just…so glad to see true love.”
I bite my lip. While I know I’m in love with Lampwick, I’m not sure if he’s ready to say it back. This is our first date after all. “Um…thanks? But could you…?”
“I hear you.” She mimes locking her lips with a key. “I’ll give you boys your privacy. Congratulations again, Pinocchio.” My chest sags in relief—I didn’t realize how much I wanted to talk to someone about my relationship. I don’t have any other friends, so her support means so much to me.
We chat for five minutes more about how things are going at her bakery. Lampwick returns holding three wooden mugs. “Ciders for us all,” he announces without enthusiasm.
“You’re so sweet, grazie ,” Giovanna says. She stands up and takes the drink. I take mine as Lampwick sits down, and I notice that Giovanna is still standing.
She sips and says, “I just realized, I can’t see any puppets here. Why you boys chose this far away seat, I’ll never know.” She chuckles and steps back. “I’ll leave you two for the night. Ciao !”
Before I can say any more, she saunters off, and my boyfriend and I are back to being alone. We drink in silence, and I fear I somehow ruined our date.
“Never a dull moment with you, Pinocchio, huh?” he mutters into his cup.
I snicker. “I guess not.” I lean in and whisper, “You should know, she can tell we’re on a date, and she’s happy for us.”
Lampwick doesn’t look surprised in the slightest. He leans in as well, his face centimeters from mine, and whispers, “Make sure she knows you already have a boyfriend, and I don’t intend to share.” He taps my knee, and I titter in joy.
My boyfriend leans back, and we go back to drinking. We watch the rest of the corny puppet show in relative solitude, occasionally touching our feet together. As always, a night spent with Lampwick is nothing short of superb.