Chapter 20 #2
She takes the drink from my hands, carefully bringing the edge of the cup to her lips to take a sip. She moans pleasurably, “My goodness, this has to be one of the best drinks I’ve had while here.”
“If that is the best drink you’ve had here, then you haven’t been exploring the city well enough.”
We leave after spending another hour in the children’s boutique, having done only a bit of damage, adding to my daughter’s already large closet.
The rest of the afternoon we spend, going to all the little shops and bakeries that fill the shopping center. Our final stop being at a small family-owned restaurant.
“Table for two, please,” I say, before getting jabbed in the side by Millie.
She pointedly looks at Aura in the stroller, and I add, “And a baby.”
The waitress seats us at a booth, providing a high chair to put Aura in. We order our drinks, and I insist Millie tries the wine on special.
“Gabriel, Aura is here,” she hisses, nodding her head in my daughter’s direction.
“So, you’re not on the clock. I’m here.”
She shakes her head but orders a glass of wine. I look at the waiter and say, “Una bottiglia di vino, per favore1”
As we wait for the waiter to return, we talk about Aura’s first birthday. According to Millie, we have to plan sooner rather than later.
“I was thinking we could have it at the house since you are right on the water and have an amazing house for hosting,” she says, before being cut off by our waiter reappearing with our drinks.
“Saluti! What can I get you?” The waiter says, looking at us.
Millie looks at me anxiously.
“We’ll start with the bruschetta per favore. Can we have a buffalo for our meal?”
The young man nods and trudges away.
I lean back in my chair, savoring this moment. My girls looking back at me. “This, right here, is what Italy is all about, girls,” I say, taking a deep breath of warm air infused with the aroma of fresh herbs and garlic.
“That’s great and all, but what is a buffalo?” Millie asks, her tone a mixture of curiosity and nervousness.
“You’ll just have to wait and see, Bumper.”
And in that moment—sun streaming through the window, Millie laughing, Aura babbling over her breadstick—I realize something undeniable: this feels like home. Not the building, not the city—them.
We arrive back at the house at around seven, and Millie mutters something about getting Aura ready for bed. Even though I gave Millie off for this entire vacation, she still is doing everything she normally does for Aura.
I have tried to tell her it isn’t necessary, but she shoos me away. Aura sleeps through the night now, so I don’t have to worry about her waking up in the middle of the night to care for my daughter, but still, she’s on vacation. I need to make her remember that.
And honestly, it’s not just about giving her time off. It’s about wanting to give her more—more than just gratitude, more than just a break. I want her to feel like she’s wanted for who she is, not just for what she does. Millie’s become something more than I can easily explain.
After Aura is soundly asleep, there is a soft knock at the door.
“Jeez, I wonder who that is? It’s late to be getting visitors,” Millie says, getting up from her spot on the couch.
She opens the door to reveal my mother.
“Good evening, Millie! I am here to rid you of all your responsibilities so you can enjoy a night out in town!”
Millie slowly turns, arching an eyebrow in my direction. I love how she is in tune with my every move.
“Go get ready, Bumper. We’re going out.” I say, smirking in her direction as she walks towards her room.
She pauses for a moment, her fingers tightening around the edge of the door. Her expression flickers—surprise, suspicion, and maybe even something softer. It’s like she’s waiting for me to say I’m joking. But I don’t.
She blinks once, then tilts her head like she’s trying to read me. I don’t look away. I want her to see that this is real. That I planned this. I want tonight to be something she’ll remember.
“Out?” she echoes, her voice almost shy. “Like…out out?”
“Yes,” I reply, stepping closer. “No diaper bags. No bibs. No baby monitors. Just you and me. I even made a reservation.”
“You made a reservation?” She repeats, almost incredulous. Her brow lifts higher as a smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. “What kind of reservation, Mr. Sirolli?”
I grin, walking past her to help my mom with the overnight bag. “The kind where you wear something that makes my jaw hit the floor. That kind.”
She bites her lip, clearly trying not to smile too wide, then disappears down the hallway with a quiet, “Okay… give me fifteen.”
My mom catches my eye from behind the door and winks. “She’s special, that one. Don’t screw it up.”
“I’m trying not to, Ma.”
“Good.” She kisses Aura’s forehead gently. “Because I’d like her around more often.”
I shut the door and lean against it for a second, exhaling like I’ve been holding my breath all day. The air feels charged. Like something big is about to shift.
And I’m ready for it.
1. Una bottiglia di vino, per favore- a bottle of wine, please.