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Twenty-Two
The first week Luca was home—outside of the little bit of murder and the awkwardness at the club—was pure bliss. He didn’t go into the office, and Marco kept the Morettis at bay, meaning we got a little staycation honeymoon to hold us over until our real honeymoon in February.
The second week, Luca went back to being the Moretti boss, but with the added benefit of having Tootsie as his advisor and Marco taking care of local skirmishes. We had dinner together every night and breakfast every morning.
The third week, Luca went back to Moretti Properties for year-end. The employees were relieved that things were returning to normal, and Joey and Aldo were happy to go back to their regular responsibilities. As with the family business, his load was lighter because tasks had been more evenly distributed.
Luca came home on Christmas Eve ready to celebrate with his family and friends. The next morning, we packed up the SUV with an obscene number of gifts and headed to Rosa’s for brunch.
“You know, soon it will be up to us to host holidays,” Luca said as he glanced at me from the driver’s seat, his eyes hidden behind classic black sunglasses.
“But we don’t have that kind of space.”
“Mom and Dad didn’t always have it either. We lived in my old townhouse until I was about seven. In those days, the family spilled out the front door, but you better bet when Dante Moretti called, they came.”
I laced our fingers together on his lap. “I had no idea.”
He nodded. “Before Dad took a loan from Nonno Carlo and started the construction company, all the money coming in was from less than legal sources. Back then, the family had money, but nowhere close to what we have now.”
The large columns of Rosa’s mansion came into view, and I shook my head. “I still can’t believe this is my life.”
Luca lifted our hands to his lips and kissed each of my knuckles. “Same.” He smiled sweetly and pulled into his spot. “You ready for Christmas overload?”
“As long as your mom has those gingerbread cookies, I can endure all the yuletide they throw at me.”
Unlike the first Christmas dinner I attended, this was a laid-back affair with only the inner circle and close family. We found everyone spread out in the informal living room, sipping coffee and munching on pastries.
“Uncle Luca!” Dante shouted, sprinting past the twelve-foot Christmas tree. He jumped into Luca’s arms and burrowed his face into Luca’s black cashmere sweater.
“Hey, buddy. Merry Christmas.” Luca held the boy, swaying gently. He whispered something in Dante’s ear, and the kid broke into a fit of laughter, violently shaking his head. They carried on for a few minutes, unbothered by being the center of attention.
I glanced past them, wanting to distract everyone and give Dante and Luca a bit of privacy, but there wasn’t a single person looking my way. Rosa sat in a plush chair, discreetly wiping under her eyes while Frankie stood by the fireplace with Marco’s parents, their faces soft as they looked on as the two caught up.
I’d spent some time with Marco’s mother, Karina, at the hospital, sitting with Mickey while we waited for him to wake up. Initially, she struggled with coming to celebrate while her son was still in a coma, which was completely understandable. But Arturo convinced her that family time was exactly what they needed.
Adriana sat on the loveseat by the window, gently wringing her hands, tears freely falling down her cheeks, and behind her stood Marco. While everyone else watched Dante and Luca, he only had eyes for Adriana. The sight was heartbreaking because I knew that this may very well be the last time she would celebrate the holidays with us. She’d be making a new family, and we’d be losing her to Chicago and her doctor.
“Sasha?” Dante slid out of Luca’s hold and came to hug my hip. “He’s really home.”
“I know, honey. Isn’t it great?”
He nodded. His dark waves, so much like Luca’s, rubbed against the wool of my sweater dress and got staticky. “Can I stay with you guys tonight?”
My eyes instantly went to Adriana, and she shrugged, her face drawn.
“Why don’t we see what happens? You might change your mind once you see all the socks we got you for Christmas.”
Dante jumped back from me, his arms out to the side. “You’re kidding, right?” He whipped his head toward Luca and the bag of gifts in his hand. “You didn’t just get me socks, did you?”
The tension in the room broke, and we distracted Dante by having him hand out presents. Once we all had a nice pile of perfectly wrapped gifts, Dante tore into his. Every present was cooler than the last, and by the time Luca rolled out his new bike, Dante was screaming and zipping around the room on the skateboard Marco had gotten him.
Being the only kid on this side of the family certainly had its perks.
Dante disappeared down the hallway, Rosa shouting after him to mind the carpets, when Luca announced it was time for me to open his gift to me.
He handed me a gold rectangle box with a big red bow. “Merry Christmas, Sasha.”
Easing the lid off, I shoved the tissue paper aside and cackled. A long-stem wine glass with “The Mrs. Mitchell-Moretti" etched in gold on the goblet laid on glittery tissue paper.
