by T. K. Leigh
She gave me a bemused look, flitting to the refrigerator and grabbing a bottle of champagne. “Not according to the dream I had last night.”
“Mila…,” I cautioned, uncomfortable about the direction this conversation had taken.
Able to sense my unease, Dante wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. He kissed the top of my head, squeezing my hip in a soothing gesture. “Don’t worry, Mila. When the event arises, we’ll be sure to have one of the ceremonies in Italy…just for you.”
I turned to him to tell him he meant “if” not “when”, but stopped myself when I noticed his gaze locked on mine, his eyes bright, a glow about him. I couldn’t resist him when he looked at me that way, telling me how much he treasured, adored, and valued me. It was a stark contrast to the way Brock and my parents glared at me, as if I were an inconvenience, someone they had to put up with, not someone they cared about.
“But all joking aside…,” Mila interrupted. We both snapped our eyes back to her, having forgotten where we were for a moment. A smile lit up her face. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad I’m here, too,” he offered, turning his eyes back to mine. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
Blowing out a satisfied sigh, I raised myself onto my toes and placed a soft kiss on Dante’s lips, not caring that Mila stood less than two feet away. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this happy, so at peace with my normally tumultuous life. It was probably when I met Dante’s family and they welcomed me into their fold with open arms. Now I was able to return the favor and introduce him to my family. My parents didn’t count. They had never been family to me. They didn’t love me, not like parents should. But Mila always did, regardless of whether or not we agreed on certain things. She never thought Brock was good enough for me, but she’d always supported my relationship, despite her own reservations. When I told her we were engaged, she offered a hug of congratulations and help planning the wedding, her only words of warning being, “If you’re sure this is what you want, I’ll support you.” And that was what family was supposed to do. Support you. Motivate you. Love you. Not antagonize you, berate you, insult you.
“Mommy?” a small voice called out.
I pulled away from Dante, turning around to see Ashlyn and Harley walking in from the back yard, Steven behind them. He came to an immediate stop when he noticed Dante at my side, his reaction almost similar to Mila’s.
“Auntie Ellie!” Ashlyn exclaimed when she saw me, having no concept of who Dante was. In her mind, I was the celebrity, not the strange man standing in their kitchen.
I crouched down as the two girls rushed toward me. I hugged both of them, kissing their strawberry blonde curls.
“When are you going to move back in?” Ashlyn asked. “I miss playing with you.”
“I miss playing with you, too, peanut, but I needed to live closer to my work. I’m here every Sunday, aren’t I? We can play then.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart.” I made a crisscross pattern over my chest, then stood up.
“Who’s that?” Ashlyn asked, pointing at Dante.
“This is my friend, Dante. Dante, this is Ashlyn and Harley, Mila’s little girls.”
Harley tugged on my jeans, then raised her arms. “Up! Up!”
Smiling, I bent down and picked her up, situating her on my hip. Dante met my eyes, a flicker of something new in his gaze, then he looked to Ashlyn.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ashlyn.” He turned to Harley in my arms. “Harley.”
“You talk funny,” Ashlyn observed.
“That’s because he’s not originally from here,” Steven explained, stepping from behind the girls and holding out his hand. “I’m Steven.”
“Dante,” he responded, shaking his hand.
“I know.” He laughed politely, then looked back at Ashlyn, her green eyes furrowed in confusion. “He’s from Italy and grew up speaking a different language. Because of that, he has an accent.”
She pinched her lips together, placing her hands on her hips as she considered Steven’s answer. Seemingly satisfied with his explanation, she turned to Dante. “Can you teach me?”
I gazed down at her in awe and a little envy. She was too young to care what people thought about her. She didn’t think before she spoke. She just said whatever popped into her mind. I missed those days. Then again, I doubted I’d ever been like that.
“Sure.” He knelt down so he could look into her eyes. “Say ciao Mamma.”
“Ciao Mamma. What does that mean?”
“It means ‘Hi, Mama.’”
“Teach me something else!” She bounced excitedly on her feet.
I admired him as he comfortably interacted with little Ashlyn, as if it were second nature. I supposed it was. Before Mila had her kids, I’d always felt somewhat guarded around children, not knowing what to do or say to these little humans who seemed to constantly need your attention. But when Mila had Ashlyn and I watched her grow up from the tiny newborn, who was permanently attached to her mother’s breast, into the rambunctious and talkative four-year-old she now was, interacting with her had become second-nature to me, too.
“Say ti amo.”
“Ti amo,” she replied, a little slower. “What does that mean?”
“It means ‘I love you.’ So now you can say that to your mamma and babbo when they tell you.”
“What’s babbo?”
“It’s what we call our fathers in Italy.”
Beaming, she looked up at Mila. “Ti amo, mamma.” Then she looked at Steven. “Ti amo, babbo.” She started to scurry away, then looked back at Dante. “How do you say, ‘When will the pancakes be ready?’”
We all erupted in laughter, Dante’s smile reaching his eyes. “We’ll work on that one next time.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“SO YOU MEAN TO tell me the two of you met as the result of a coin toss?” Dante took a sip of his Bloody Mary, stealing a glance at me as we all sat around the dining room table.
We’d just finished our brunch, which consisted of a vegetable frittata and potatoes. Mila was a nervous wreck at the thought of cooking for the Dante Luciano, but she did great, as usual. She’d always been an amazing cook. During our younger days, she spent just as much time in my kitchen with Gloria as I did. Between our housekeeper and her own mother, who was a Polish immigrant, she learned how to cook from the best there was. And it still showed.
“We sure did,” Mila answered, brushing a few tendrils of her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. “Ellie and I had planned to go on one last trip before we both went our separate ways for college. I couldn’t decide whether to go to Santa Barbara or San Francisco. Ellie wanted to make a list of pros and cons, like the type A personality she is.”
“She’s type A?” Dante joked. “I never would have guessed.” He flashed me a smile.
I nudged him in the side with my elbow. “You’ll pay for that later,” I warned.
“I hope so.” His eyes heated momentarily, then he returned his attention to Mila. “So you flipped a coin instead?”
“She did,” I answered. “She said something along the lines that I needed to stop thinking so much and just roll with the punches.”
“And I’d give you the same advice today, my darling friend.” She raised her champagne glass.
“Anyway,” I said in a drawn-out voice, “she tossed a coin and we ended up in San Francisco, where she met Steven.”
“A bunch of college buddies and I had taken a day trip into the city,” Steven explained. “I was finishing up my last year at Berkeley.”
“And I was about to start my first year at San Diego State.” Mila smirked at me. “We knew it wouldn’t be easy, that there would be times that absolutely sucked. But we also knew what we felt for each other wasn’t something most people found, even though we barely knew each other. Too many people say love at first sight doesn’t exist. But the instant I met Steven and he opened
his mouth…” She shook her head, the same dreamy look she wore all those years ago crossing her face, as if no time had passed. “Was it love? I’d like to think so. Our souls connected in a way I never thought possible until I met him.” She grabbed his hand, smiling at him, then looked back to us. “And we’re still just as in love today, even ten years later, even with deflated boobs after nursing for the better part of the past four years. And we won’t talk about the state of my hoo-ha after pushing two kids out.”
“Mila!” I admonished, my face reddening. I looked at Dante, who simply chuckled at how open she was. He didn’t seem nearly as embarrassed about my friend’s words as I was.
“What? It’s true! You don’t have kids yet, so you don’t know what it’s like. But once you do, yours will look like a damn crime scene, too. Harley’s almost two and sex is just finally getting back to normal again.”
I buried my face in my hands, my ears burning with embarrassment. “T.M.I., Mila. T…M…I.” I returned my eyes to hers, fighting back my smile. “Sometimes I wonder how we’re still friends.”
She stood from her seat, clearing a few of the dishes. “Because you’d be lost without me. I’m your compass.”
“Always pointing me north.” I held her gaze, drawing in a contented breath. If it weren’t for Mila’s prodding, I probably would have walked away from Dante after I ran into him at his restaurant. I never would have propositioned him. I never would have spent a week in the clouds with him. I never would have known what true happiness was. She often joked about being my compass. I always humored her and let her believe she was. As I sat at our traditional Sunday brunch, Dante at my side, I began to believe she was on to something.
“Let me get that.” Dante stood and took the dishes from Mila’s hands, much to her surprise. “You cooked. I’ll clean.”
“You don’t have to. You’re a guest here.”
“All the more reason for me to clean up.”
“I’ll give you a hand,” Steven said, standing. “Typical house rules anyway. Mila cooks. I clean.”
“Which is great, because it’s honestly my least favorite thing.”
“Then you ladies relax,” Dante insisted. “We won’t be long.” He placed a kiss on my cheek. Then, dishes balanced in his hands and on his arms, he headed toward the kitchen with Steven. Just before they turned the corner, Steven glanced over his shoulder and wiggled his eyebrows. We both shook our heads, stifling our laughter.
Once we were alone, Mila turned to me. “Oh, my god, Ellie.” She grabbed my hands, pulling me up from my chair and into the living room, dodging Ashlyn and Harley as they played on the floor, too immersed in their Lego project to pay any attention to us. “He is perfect.” She plopped down onto the couch, covering her heart with her hand.
I joined her, struggling to bite back the grin wanting to crawl across my lips. “He is, isn’t he?”
Her dreamy expression immediately vanished as she sat upright, facing me. “Now that we have a minute to ourselves, you need to tell me what happened in the past forty-eight hours. Last I knew, you went to your parents’ house on Friday. What happened between then and now? I want to know everything.”
I stared off into space, my mind still spinning with the events of the past few days. It still didn’t seem real to me. “I did go, but when I got to their house…” I opened my mouth, drawing a blank about how to properly convey what came over me that night. It was like someone else was pulling the strings and making me act in a way I normally wouldn’t, like fate had a hand in it all along. “I don’t know. I realized I was still under that woman’s thumb.”
“It’s about time,” Mila shot back.
“I hadn’t even been there a second before she immediately berated and belittled me. I just snapped. I’ve spent the past twenty-eight years of my life trying to make that woman happy. A woman who will never be happy. A woman who gets off by trying to make everyone around her just as miserable as she is. I knew if I didn’t do something, if I didn’t distance myself from her hate, that would eventually be me. It didn’t matter that I made a few snarky comments here and there during dinner parties, or drank scotch, or drove a car she would never approve of. I still showed up whenever she told me to. I came back here to separate myself from my parents, to cut the chains. But they pulled me back in…and I let them. If I kept doing exactly what they expected of me, I’d never get the new start I came back to get. I finally realized all of that, so I left.”
“You went to USC?” She lifted a brow.
“Yeah, but everything that could go wrong did.” I laughed at the memory, although I didn’t find it amusing at the time. I proceeded to tell her about the traffic, the roadblock, parking in a tow-away zone, then twisting my ankle when my heel got caught in a crack.
“Oh, my god. Are you okay?” Her eyes widened and she glanced at my foot in concern.
“I didn’t do any real damage. I put some ice on it and took a few ibuprofen. I’m fine now.”
“Good. So, what happened next?”
“When I finally got to the theater, limping, my hair a mess, it was too late. Dante had already left. Of course, when I headed back to my car, I found it had been towed.”
“Oh, Ellie…” Mila covered her mouth.
“After all that, I couldn’t help but think that fate was pushing back, that it wasn’t the right time.”
Steven rounded the corner at that moment, heading toward us with two fresh mimosas. After handing them to us, he planted a kiss on Mila’s temple, then disappeared back into the kitchen. My heart warmed at the sound of Dante and Steven conversing so easily.
When we were alone again, Mila turned back to me. “So if you didn’t catch him at his appearance, how did you find him?”
“I was about to call for an Uber to take me home, but I didn’t want to go there and be faced with reminders of everything I was convinced I’d never have again. I just needed a minute to be alone, to let myself hurt. Then maybe I could finally move on. I was so ready to stop all of it. But something pulled me toward the Rose Garden by the Coliseum.” I raised my fresh drink to my mouth, taking a long sip.
“You walked?”
I nodded.
“On a twisted ankle?”
“It was only a few blocks.” I shrugged. “As I sat in front of the fountain, my phone alerted me to an Instagram notification.”
“Aww…” She clasped a hand over her heart again, melting against the cushion.
“I didn’t want to look, but when I finally did, it was a picture of me, sitting in that exact spot, with a line from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
“I have goosebumps, Ellie. Look.” She held her arm in front of me, showing me where her fair skin had prickled. “I think I might just cry. What was the quote?”
I stared out the front windows at the trees blowing in the breeze. I took another sip of my drink, trying to hide the brilliant smile that always seemed to form on my lips whenever I thought of Dante. “‘I’ll follow thee and make a heaven of hell. To die upon the hand I love so well.’” I knew those lines by heart now. I had a feeling I always would.
“That’s beautiful, Ellie.” She wrapped her arms around me. “I’m so happy for you. Just do me a favor.”
I pulled out of her embrace. “What’s that?”
“Don’t think too much.”
“I’m not—”
“I know you,” she interrupted, her eyes narrowed on me, as if she were scolding an errant child. “You’re making lists in your head of all the possible reasons this won’t work. Stop it. Like I said all those years ago, roll with the punches. You’ve made lists your entire life. Where’s that gotten you?”
“Nowhere,” I sighed dejectedly. “Absolutely nowhere. The only time I’ve ever been happy is when I was in Rome and stopped thinking about living up to everyone’s expectations.”
“And that’s what you need to do here, too. Okay?”
I squeezed her hand. “Okay.”
“Pa
rdon the interruption…” Dante appeared in the living room, approaching us. “We need to get going. Your appointment is in ninety minutes.”
“Appointment?” Mila turned to me with wide eyes. “For what?”
“Hair and makeup,” I answered nonchalantly, finishing my mimosa and placing the glass on the side table.
“Hair and makeup?” She furrowed her brow. “Hair and makeup for…” She trailed off as realization washed over her. “You’re going tonight?!” she shrieked, tackling me on the couch. “I fucking hate you and love you at the same time!”
“Daddy!” Ashlyn gasped. “Mommy said a bad word.”
We all burst out laughing. “Yes, Ashlyn,” Mila began, regaining her composure as she raised herself from the couch. “Mommy did. But don’t you ever repeat what I just said,” she admonished, then turned to me. “I want a full report tomorrow. And you’d better believe I’ll be watching the red carpet pre-show!”
“Of course.” I stood up, taking Dante’s outstretched hand as we walked toward the entryway.
“And you’ll be here next Sunday?” Mila pressed, following us. “Same time?”
I looked at Dante, searching his eyes. I didn’t even know how long he planned to be in LA. We hadn’t talked about any of that.
“I’m in town all week to work with the other writers and producers on the upcoming season. So we’ll both be here, if that’s okay.”
“You’d better believe it is!” Mila flung her arms around him, then did the same to me.
After we said our goodbyes to Steven and the girls, we headed down the driveway. The second the door closed, I heard Mila shout, “Oh, my god!” It was followed by her rambunctious squeals of joy.
I glanced at Dante, a wide smirk on his lips as we approached the dark SUV. “Don’t let that go to your head.” We stopped walking and I turned to him, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “She does that to all the guys I bring to brunch.”
He rested his hands on either side of me as I leaned against the door. “You bring a lot of guys to brunch?”
