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CHAPTER TWENTY

NICO

Babbo

Everything okay?

Nico

Yeah, just running late for work this morning.

Babbo

Got it. You’ve been running late a lot this week.

Nico

Yeah, I need to get to bed earlier.

Babbo

Insomnia?

Nico

Staying out too late.

Babbo

Understandable. Did you decide the morning reminder wasn’t working for you?

Nico

…

…

…

I didn’t think you were still interested.

Babbo

You didn’t ask me.

Nico

No, but I just figured after the club that you wouldn’t be.

Babbo

Next time, let me decide if I’m not interested. The door code hasn’t changed. See you in the morning.

* * *

“Nonna, what kind of weirdo eats mayo with their fries? You woke up and chose violence.” The weather was beautiful, and I’d mentioned to Gabe that I was going to swing by Nonna’s assisted living facility and take her out for an afternoon walk. He’d suggested I take off early and have lunch with her, too, so we wouldn’t be rushed.

The past couple of weeks had been a whirlwind of figuring out how to manage the added responsibilities I took on at work in addition to my regular job. Gabe, as always, had given me leeway to make it fit as needed, but it was still an adjustment. The responsibility of working for an outside client versus one of his friends made a huge difference in my time obligations, but I was absolutely loving it. It had been a long time since I’d felt like I was actually progressing in something, and every day, I went in and saw a little more progress toward the ultimate goal of closing out the file with a happy client. Maybe this was something I could make happen regularly?

Unfortunately, the project management didn’t do anything to fix my problems with Babbo. The part of me that wanted to follow him was at war with the part who wanted freedom. For better or worse, I followed the independent route and stayed at the club. There was no damn way I’d have gone home with anyone, but he’d given me the opening if I wanted to take it. I hadn’t stepped through the door. In hindsight, why the fuck I’d stayed when I’d had no damned intention of doing anything with anyone didn’t even make sense to me. For all the plans made with the boys, I never even got the chance to ask him on a proper date before I blew everything up.

Today was a mostly good day for Nonna. After the front desk reminded her of my name, it all clicked back into place, and she was back to the woman I remembered from my childhood. She was irreverent, funny, and a little bawdy. It was the cutest thing. The recent medication change had worked wonders, and some days, it was easy to forget, no pun intended, that she had any impairment. At her request, we drove down to the waterfront to walk along the water and grab some lunch there.

“I don’t remember everything, but I know the proper way to eat french fries.” I remained dubious but dutifully tried them as instructed. Not a fan. Just like I hadn’t been a fan the last time she’d insisted I try them. Or the time before that. I split my lobster roll in half and put one side on her plate while she divvied up her fish. We’d split our meals for as long as I could remember. Once properly split, we dove in.

“How’s the boyfriend?” Nonna asked when we came up for air.

“Levi isn’t my boyfriend, but he’s fine.” After I’d stayed away for more than a week, he’d summoned me back to the house and restarted my morning spankings. I’d instantly felt better, but I wasn’t ready to acknowledge that to him. Even now, the familiar ache in my ass from sitting on the wooden bench reminded me of him. And how much I missed being around him for nothing besides his company.

“He cooked dinner for your entire family.”

“I messed up, and he saved the day with pasta. I appreciated it, but that doesn’t make a relationship.”

“Do you want him to be your boyfriend?”

And that was the killer question. I wanted to hang out with Babbo and send silly memes again. I liked sleeping with him and waking up with him too. I missed being little with him. A lot.

“You kids always make things so difficult with this need to have perfect relationships and have things go exactly the way you want them to and look the way you think they should. Maybe it was easier in my day, although PopPop, god rest his soul, he’d tell you I was a pain in the ass.”

“That’s a little hard to believe, Nonna,” I said with a finger wag. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why were you a pain in the ass?”

“Did I ever tell you I didn’t want to get married?” I shook my head, and she continued, “Women were expected to get married, and if you weren’t, there was something wrong with you. In the big cities, I knew women didn’t get married and were perfectly happy, but they damn sure didn’t live in Port Townsend, Washington. Being married or being pitied was the only option we had.”

“You didn’t want to marry PopPop? You didn’t love him?”

“Those are two very different questions. I loved him from the day I met that man. He was kind, sweet, and funny, and he listened to what I had to say and didn’t give a shit that I couldn’t make proper pasta sauce. We were the only two Italian families there, and everybody expected it, and I was a failure at it the first time I tried to make it for him. He choked it down, and I thought he was going to have a heart attack at the table while trying.” As she spoke, a smile played across her lips and she stared into the water like she was seeing something I couldn’t.

“And he still married you?”

“The next time I invited him to dinner, he brought jarred pasta sauce with him, and it became our favorite meal.”

“So if you loved him, why didn’t you want to marry him?”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to marry him . I didn’t want to marry anyone . I didn’t like the idea of it. What if he was unhappy? What if I was unhappy? Things were different then. Get a divorce and move on wasn’t common, and it was especially true when you lived in a small town. I didn’t feel like I’d be able to go against my family.

“But you did marry him.”

“I did, and I don’t regret one day of it.”

“So how did he convince you?

“He asked me, and I said yes.” She chuckled when I rolled my eyes. “But he knew I had reservations, so we came up with an idea of the installment plan.”

“What the hell is an installment plan for marriage?

“Every year, your PopPop would ask me if I still wanted to be there. And if I said yes, we kept going, but he always gave me the option of saying no. This isn’t complicated…stuff.”

“You wanted to say shit, didn’t you?”

“I’m trying to watch my language.”

“But why?”

“So I don’t corrupt you.”

“Oh, my sweet, sweet Nonna, I have been corrupted for much longer than this conversation.”

“I’ve heard that about you.”

“Don’t listen to anything Copy and Paste say. I’m not getting distracted though…tell me more about this installment plan.”

“What a terrible thing to call your brothers.” But then she added with a wink, “Even if it’s true.” Her raucous laughter had other tables looking at us and smiling because who didn’t love an old lady with a belly laugh. “Anyway, it’s not that hard to figure out. Your PopPop would ask me if I still wanted to be there, and if I said yes, we just kept going, but he always told me I could say no and he’d accept, and that was good enough for me.”

“So, on your anniversary, you would decide if you still wanted to be married?”

“I wouldn’t do it on my anniversary. That’s depressing. We would do it at the six-month mark between them so we weren’t clouded by hearts and flowers.”

“Did you ever say you wanted out?”

“No, it was enough that I knew I could get out. I didn’t need to be out.

“Nonna, that is pretty fucking genius.”

“Your PopPop was a smart man, and he understood that people don’t always make decisions based on logic. What you need doesn’t have to make sense to anyone but you.” The knowing look she gave me spoke volumes.

“I don’t think I’m that smart.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree about that, but you need to work with what you’ve got.”

“What do I have?”

“A not-boyfriend with a good heart who couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

* * *

After lunch, Nonna and I spent a few hours wandering through her favorite garden store. Her apartment had a little balcony, and she liked to have plants covering it every spring. I inherited her black thumb, though, because her plants never stayed alive. So our family took turns replacing them every spring. PopPop could make anything grow. I’d buy a million more if it made her smile.

While Nonna wandered through the aisles looking at the options, I had plenty of time to trail behind her with the shopping cart and consider what was happening in my life. The inescapable truth was that I’d let myself get stuck—paralyzed by fear or maybe just uncertainty—and I hated that about myself. Babbo gave me all the freedom I asked for and never once pushed back or demanded answers I wasn’t ready to give. He didn’t try to steer me or shape me into something easier to understand. Instead, he just stood by me, steady and constant, while I tried to figure out who I was. Honestly, there wasn’t a single thing more I could’ve asked of him.

But I was at a loss on how this mess I’d made with Babbo could be fixed. When I freaked out, he let me walk away. Since I was being so fucking self-reflective today, even I knew it was the best thing to do. If he’d pushed the issue in the club, I would’ve shoved, not pushed, back on principle alone. As it was, I watched him leave while crying in the corner like a goddamn fool because that’s exactly what I was.

The new responsibilities Gabe had given me, along with the increased pay, had been useful distractions. The commercial client project was a brand-new ballgame compared to the projects I’d managed for Gabe’s friend. The botanical garden’s organizers expected me to be on top of everything, which I had always been, but this time felt different. My spreadsheets were color-coded gorgeousness. It killed me that I couldn’t show how pretty they were to the one person in my life I knew would appreciate them the most.

My brain was in such a jumble that I hardly knew whether I was coming or going anymore. The morning spankings from Babbo helped, but they hadn’t fixed the underlying issue because what I needed was an escape. What I wouldn’t give myself was the escape, and I didn’t know where that left me except confused and alone in the backyard of the only man I’d ever imagined myself with. A man I still wanted to be with even though I was the one who walked away. The explanation for it was visceral panic at the prospect of happiness. And that made me feel even shittier about the whole thing.

So what the hell was I supposed to do?

Nonna’s advice at lunch was to use what I had available, and what I had available were four boys, well, okay, three boys and Anders. They said they wanted to be my friends and not just people to hang out with when we ran into each other at the club. Fingers crossed, they were serious about it. Step one was being more open.

Nico

Hey, anyone up to grab a bite?

Owen

Did someone say food?

Anders

Yes, if it’s on Saturday. And lunch.

Rory

Oh yeah.

Nico

In my head, you sound like the Kool-Aid man

Rory

In my head, I am the Kool-Aid man.

Owen

Everything okay, Anders?

Anders

Yeah, just work stuff, and it’ll be fine.

Rory

The takeover?

Anders

Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s going to happen soon.

Evening isn’t an option, but don’t schedule around me.

Nico

Nope, we should plan around you.

Rory

That is correct, best bestie. We *are* gonna plan around you.

Owen

I think it’s my turn to host. Lunch on Saturday at my house.

Anders

I’m really glad you used the group chat, Nico.

Owen

Me too.

Rory

Me three.

Owen

If Nico is being brave, I’m going to be too…want to make it a playdate?

Rory

Yes, if Nico wants.

Anders

No pressure.

Nico

I’ve never had a playdate.

Rory

Only if you want one, but it’s nice with friends. Anders is like our big brother at them.

Nico

Uh, I think that sounds great.

Owen

Cool, cool. I’ll send you my address. We’ll take care of lunch.

Nico

Are you sure? Because it was my idea and you’re doing the work.

Owen

Nah, it’s all good. Does noon work for everyone?