Chapter Twenty-Six #2
“You’re… what?” I asked, a half-laugh escaping me.
“Yep. That’s right. Sweaty, amazing, pre-Christmas sex. You should have some too.”
“Andy, I need to… you know… with the stuff?”
“Oh, that. Sammy already handled that.”
“Really?”
“Yep. All sitting here ready to be snuck in once your man falls asleep tonight.”
My man.
That was still new. But, God, I loved it.
“Oh, well, thank her for me. That was really sweet. She didn’t have to do that.”
“Sure she did. You’re laid up. She watched gift-wrapping videos and everything to make sure she got it right. They look awesome.”
“Wow. Okay. Great. Thanks.”
“Yep. Off to do the sex now,” she said before hanging up.
“What?” Venezio asked.
“That was such a weird call.”
And as I was rolling back to the living room, I heard their door open and the two of them moving down the hall. I heard the tap of dog nails too. Those sounded a little fast and light for chonky Meatball, but who knew; maybe he really had to go.
“She’s probably stressed about all the family shit she has going on,” he reasoned.
“I guess. So, you get to learn to make pie tonight,” I told him.
“What kind am I making?” he asked.
“It’s cute that you think it will just be one kind. This is Christmas, Venezio. We get all the pies.”
“Well, put me to work then.”
Venezio - 5 Days
I was tired to the fucking bone.
I have a lifetime of sleeplessness, of working myself as hard as possible to make sure my future looked nothing like my past. And yet nothing made me as tired as creating the ‘magic of Christmas.’
Still, I had to admit, I kind of enjoyed it.
Especially with Steph perched up on the counter, giving me instructions, laughing at my mistakes, and singing loudly to the Christmas carols on the stereo.
And we hadn’t even gotten to the Christmas meal yet. Though Stephanie made sure we did a lot of the prepping ahead of time so it would be a so-called ‘easy meal.’
Still, though, as I lay in bed beside her, there was this strange, bubbling feeling in my stomach. Like champagne bubbles. It took an embarrassingly long time to realize it was excitement.
For Christmas.
For the first time in my life.
“Merry Christmas,” Steph mumbled, making me look down to find her looking up at me with sleepy eyes and messy hair.
“Merry Christmas, babe.”
“How long have you been up?”
“A while.”
“Bad sleep?”
“No.”
“Excited?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I admitted.
“Me too,” she agreed, snuggling in for a moment, then rolling over to move to sit off the side of the bed. “You’re not allowed to go out there without me,” she warned, walking on her tippy toes to the bathroom.
She really wasn’t supposed to do that. But her feet were healing pretty well and she had a hard time navigating the wheelchair in her bathroom. She came back out and planted her ass in the chair before I could lecture her.
She waited for me in turn, then let me push her out into the living room.
Christmas had thrown up all over it for weeks. But it looked extra shimmery with all the presents piled under the tree.
That bubbling sensation intensified as I realized that after I’d snuck her presents under the tree, she’d somehow managed to sneak ones for me under there as well.
A Christmas morning with presents.
For the first time in my life.
I wasn’t the kid with his face pushed up against the window, looking at a scene I could never have anymore.
“Do we make coffee or do we dive right in?” she asked.
I glanced at my watch, knowing I had a very tight timeline for when her last present was getting dropped off.
“Got all morning for coffee,” I said.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
Then, with the twenty-four-hour marathon of A Christmas Story playing on the TV, we both tore into our presents.
“Hold off on those few,” I said when she reached for the last couple.
“For what?” she asked as I heard the girls in the hallway.
“For that,” I said when there was a light tap on the door. “Close your eyes.”
“Okay,” she said, beaming at the idea of another surprise.
I answered the door to find the girls standing there with the dog they’d been keeping for me for a couple of days.
She was a pretty long-haired dog that looked like a cross between a Collie and maybe a Golden Retriever. She was four, housebroken, and even knew some tricks. She ticked all the boxes.
The girls had their hands full.
Not only because of my gift to Steph.
But because their gift to Meatball was a little Frenchie brother in a pretty brindle shade.
Sammy was holding Meatball and the new puppy.
Andy held the leash for the rescue but was quick to take the new puppy once I silently took the leash and led the dog with her big red bow on her collar over into the living room.
The girls stayed in the doorway just out of sight to watch.
“Alright. Open.”
The squeal she let out had all three dogs bugging out, making the girls struggle to hold onto their dogs as Steph’s new dog leapt up on the couch with her, all tail wags and excitement.
“Oh, you’re so beautiful! What’s your name?”
This was possibly the best part.
“Noel,” I told her.
“No! Did you name her that?”
“Nope. That’s the name she had when she went into the rescue.”
“Noel! Well, you will fit in just perfectly here, won’t you? Hi, baby, hi,” she said as Noel licked her face furiously.
“We knew you’d just love her!” Andy said, rushing into the apartment.
“Wait! Who is that?”
“This is Potroast,” Andy said, snuggling the puppy.
“Oh, my God. I love him too.”
“So does Meatball. And Noel, by the way. Just so you know. She’s been an angel.”
“So, that’s why you’ve been so weird the last couple of days,” Steph said, small-eyeing her friends. “No steamy sex. Just present-hiding.”
“I mean… we can have both,” Andy insisted.
“Except we haven’t,” Sammy added. “Not with a new puppy needing to go potty every two hours. Noel is amazing on a leash too. She loves a walk.”
“But also loves laying around on the couch for half the day,” Andy added. “She’s the perfect dog. Your man chose well.”
“To be fair, Brio was the one to point her out to me.”
“That’s where you went when you left me with Salvatore.”
“Guilty. Brio thought now was a good time to get a dog. To have company while you’re laid up. I agreed.”
“I love her,” Steph said, leaning down to bury her face in the dog’s soft fur. “So are those presents for her?” she asked, nodding toward the tree.
“Yeah, just some toys. I got the rest stored at the girls’ place.”
“Speaking of, I’m going to go grab it all,” Sammy said, setting Meatball down. “We have to get going to Andy’s family.”
“Are you guys bringing Meatball and Potroast?” Steph asked.
“You mean our sons?” Andy asked. “Of course.”
I helped Sammy haul in the massive bag of dog food, bed, toys, food dishes, and a bag full of various other things like shampoo and toothpaste that Brio insisted we needed.
Then the girls exchanged quick presents before Andy and Sammy (and their sons) had to get going.
“You know what I think would be an amazing new Christmas tradition?” Stephanie asked when we were alone again, all three of us cuddled on the couch.
“What’s that?” I asked, petting Noel’s velvety ears.
“A long walk through Central Park with Noel.”
“I like it,” I decided.
And in my mind, I could see many years ahead of us doing exactly that.
I couldn’t wait.
Stephanie - 7 Months
“Is that wrapping paper?” Venezio asked, coming into the apartment where I had four rolls on the coffee table.
“Your observation skills remain unmatched,” I said, leaning my head back for a quick kiss.
“I get Christmas is your thing, babe. But it’s July.”
“I’m not decorating or anything. Yet. That is obviously what you do on Halloween night.”
“Right. Obviously,” he said, dropping down onto the couch with a huff of laughter. Noel was quick to join him, getting all her loving.
“There is just a Christmas-in-July sale. I wanted to take advantage. This is just the first shipment. We’re going to need like twenty times this for the presents this year.”
Not to toot my own horn, but I’d been kicking ass even in the off-season in raising money for Giftmas. So, yeah, beep beep.
We’d reached our goal last year. I planned to smash through it before the season even started.
Along with the little bribe-slash-donation from the Costas.
“How did it go?” I asked once he stopped telling Noel about all the ‘good smells’ she was going to come across when we took our long walk.
“I’m Made,” he said.
“How does it feel?”
“Weird.”
“Care to use more words?” I suggested, shooting him a smirk.
He would never be the most talkative man in the world, but he usually had more to say than he originally seemed to. He just required a little coaxing.
“The whole point of becoming a capo is to take a step back from the grind. To find all the best soldiers and associates and let them do the dirty work.”
“And you don’t like that?”
“I’ve busted my ass every day of my life since I was fucking eleven. I don’t know what it’s like to have time off.”
“I mean… you kind of do, though,” I reminded him. “You’ve taken a lot of days off since we’ve met.”
“When we were being chased through two boroughs?”
“And after, when you were taking care of me. And on Sundays, so we can have date nights with Andy and Sammy. And random afternoons here or there.”
He sat with that a minute.
“Isn’t this just letting you choose when to bust your ass and when to let someone else, er, earn their stripes? Sorry, I don’t know the mafia term.”
“Make your bones,” Venezio said with that smirk I loved so much.
“How does one make bones?”
“Think about that for a second.”
“Oh. Oh. Well, that wasn’t exactly what I meant, but, yeah, the point of being a boss—and kind of boss—is that you can take a step back, not that you have to.”
“True,” he agreed. “You ready to take a walk?” he asked, patting his pocket for, I guess, his phone.
“Sure. Just let me put Noel’s shoes on. We can’t have you burning your toesies, now, can we?” I cooed at her, making her tail twirl around.
Then we were off.