“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 onhim.”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 –
