27. Matilde
Matilde
“We should go shopping!” Maddalena suggests, excitedly. Her eyes had boggled when she’d seen the credit card Nico gave me.
I glance at the twins, wondering if an outing would be advisable.
Yesterday’s excitement with the wedding seems to have rubbed off on them, and they weren’t interested in their morning nap.
The city’s snowy streets will be decked out with Christmas lights though, and they enjoy being out and about more now.
Once I agree to a short trip, we head into the kitchen where I inform Ugo and Enio of our plans. Enio pulls out his phone and starts texting. “What are you doing?”
“Getting Nico’s approval.”
When my mouth flies open to argue, Ugo shoots me a challenging look. Nico did say the bodyguards were non-negotiable, but I will clarify a few points with my husband later.
Soon enough, Ugo grabs his hat and Enio says he’ll warm up the car while Maddalena and I wrangle kicking baby feet into warm booties.
“They need proper shoes,” Ersilia snips when she sees us prepared to leave at last.
“They can’t walk yet, but they are covered from head to toe.”
“Chicago is not Sicily, and it is winter. Their feet should always be covered, indoors and out, preferably with two pairs of socks.”
Getting two babies ready for an outing is enough work, and I’m quickly losing my patience.
“They will be fine.” Nico said I could replace her, but it’s not like I’ve ever fired anyone.
I manage a pleasant smile. “Would you please inform Nunzia that we will all be having dinner together in the dining room when Mr. Morelli gets home tonight?”
“Not with the children though?”
I blink at her presumption. “Yes, with the children.”
“Babies are messy eaters. I’m sure Mr. Morelli will not wish to watch them-”
“Mr. Morelli has seen worse.” That’s an understatement and a half, I imagine.
“But where are they to sit? There are no highchairs.”
“Then I know what I will be buying today,” I snap, gesturing at Maddalena to carry Amadeo as I carry Lucia outside.
“She’s a bitch,” Mad huffs once the babies are settled in the car seats of the limousine Ugo pulled around front.
It’s not a word I like to use, but I’m tempted to agree with my sister when I notice Ugo staring at me in the rearview mirror. “Che cosa?” I ask sharply, wondering if he’ll be spying on us all day for Nico.
Ugo’s lips twitch, and he shakes his head as Enio pulls away from the curb.
“He would give you ugly guards,” Mad whispers. “Primo’s friendlier and much cuter.”
I smirk, pleased she thinks he’s cute. Dante suggested he might like her. If she liked him, that would surely be an improvement over Giacomo.
But while Ugo and Enio are not as friendly as Primo, they’re diligent. Their keen eyes are always on the watch for any trouble, and I can’t hate them when they’re dedicated to protecting all of us.
As Zeta always took the lead on my previous shopping outings in Chicago, I let Maddalena choose where to go.
We wind up at a fancy boutique that has security guards posted in front to control who enters.
My stomach knots up while Maddalena jabbers about finding new shoes to replace the ones she threw up on.
We’re two teenage girls in blue jeans carrying two infants, and I’m certain we’ll be turned away.
But one look at the bodyguards behind us and the vehicle has the store security politely ushering us inside, right past a handful of perfumed women who are waiting.
“The babies are getting tired,” I mention after our third stop. Lucia has been tugging on her little ears, and Amadeo’s scowl is reminding me more and more of his father’s, clear indications that trouble is brewing.
“Oh, come on! One more store,” my sister begs. “You just graduated and got married. Not to mention it’s almost Christmas. You wanted to get highchairs, too.”
She has a point there. “One more stop,” I concede. “When does your final semester begin?” She should graduate in early June.
Maddalena shrugs as Enio drives us to a place that looks much too posh to sell diapers. “I don’t know if I’ll go back. My grades were terrible because I worked so much.”
“You are so close to finishing, Mad! You don’t have to work now. I’ll talk to Nico.”
“I don’t want to be dependent on him.” I could point out whose money is paying for our shopping spree, not to mention that I’m his wife which makes him her brother-in-law, but I don’t want to quarrel. “I’ll be modeling soon anyway. Making my own money,” she adds.
Lead settles in my stomach. “Are you still planning to let Giacomo help you with that? Nico said-”
“Can we stop talking about Nico? It’s my life, Mat.” She makes a pleading motion for me to be silent with the guards in the car.
It is her life, so I close my mouth and fold my arms over my chest, worried and not sure what I should do.
***
The stop for highchairs was one stop too many for the twins.
They let everyone in the store know it as Ugo and Enio loaded up our purchases.
On the ride home, Maddalena kept begging me to ‘do something with them’ while Enio cursed traffic and Ugo’s head kept sinking lower between his massive shoulders as if he imagined he could drown them out that way.
I clung to the very last shred of my patience though, understanding this was the only way they could express themselves and trusting I would make it better soon.
Naturally, Ersilia’s waiting in the doorway when we walk in. “Oh, are their feet cold?” she inquires after the screaming babies.
I roll my eyes so hard it’s a wonder they don’t stick that way. “No, they need a diaper change, a bottle and a nap,” I inform her.
Maddalena scurries off to her room with her purchases, and I carry the fussy twins up to the nursery to take care of their needs. I rock them, singing a lullaby until sweet silence fills the room.
Once I lay them down in their cribs for a nap, I decide I need one, too. Between today and yesterday, I’m exhausted. In the bedroom, I strip out of my clothes and pull on one of Nico’s comfortable t-shirts and a new pair of sexy panties I bought with him in mind.
Pulling back the duvet, I flush over the fact the sheets have been changed, knowing Ersilia probably handled that. I can’t deny she’s dutiful.
Nico’s scent clings to the shirt I’m wearing, and it stirs the loveliest twinge between my legs. As my eyelids grow heavy, I grab my phone to send him a text –
What time will you be home for dinner?
He replies at once –
6:30
Satisfied, I lay my phone aside, smiling to myself.
***
After our rest, I texted with Frankie a bit and send Zeta pictures of the twins playing with their new stacking rings and blocks. Zeta calls immediately, gently prying about last night without seeking details.
“I am fine. The physical side of marriage will not be the hard part,” I quietly admit in Italian.
Zeta hums softly. “Good, but he’ll have plenty to learn about being a good husband despite being married before, I fear.”
“Do you know what the problem was between them?”
“I wish I did, but Margareta was aloof with me, and Nico… He came into the world carrying an invisible weight, determined to handle problems on his own. It was very frustrating as a mother to watch, I assure you. He was always protective of Dante and especially Caterina. He believes he failed Margareta. He means not to fail you or the children.”
In his eyes, protection is the equivalent of love, but he gave me hope for something sweeter yesterday, something that I believe we can both grow into. With enough time and a ton of patience.
***
For all his faults, my father rarely missed dinnertime when I was growing up. This is my family now. We will eat as one.
But Maddalena says she isn’t hungry. So at half past six, I wrangle the babies into their new cushioned highchairs alone after dragging two of the heavy dining chairs out of the way, hoping Nico will soon walk in.
Neither of the children are sure what this is about, but Amadeo is content dipping his fist into his pureed carrots while Lucia pokes at them suspiciously.
“There will be a mess all over the floor,” Ersilia mutters just loud enough for me to hear.
“It is a good thing we have an excellent housekeeper,” I reply at the same volume. I’m too excited by this first opportunity to sit down as a married couple and share a meal with the children to allow Ersilia to irk me.
Nunzia announces the zuppa is ready, but there’s still no Nico. Worried, I quickly fetch my phone only to find a text from him sent thirty minutes ago-
I’ll be late. Don’t wait up.
I stare at the blunt text, torn between disappointment and vexation.
“Will the master not be joining you after all?” Ersilia asks, wearing a small but apparent smirk. Vexation, it is.
Laying my phone aside, I sniff indifferently. “The children and I will eat without him tonight.”
Nunzia shoots a warning look at Ersilia before they leave the room, and I pull Amadeo’s highchair closer since his father won’t be here to help. The spoon hasn’t reached his lips for the first time when my phone buzzes with another text from Nico:
Something came up unexpectedly. I meant to be there. Mi dispiace, tesoro.
An apology and an endearment? Hmm. I take a selfie with the babies in their highchairs, holding a bowl in my other hand –
You will be missed, and I will soon be wearing carrots.