Believe (19 page)

Chapter Eighteen

After their session with Dr. Martin, Lorenzo had taken Lita to dinner at Sal’s. It had been a silent meal, but comfortable. They strolled around the square, the evening much like it had been when he’d seen Lita again, when she’d first come home. He tugged her closer to him.

The trees in the park swayed, the old, familiar buildings were lit up, the warm night breeze pushed Lita’s skirt onto her shapely legs.

“I’m proud of you,” she said in a quiet voice. “Thank you for sharing that with me, for letting me in.”

A smile broke loose. “Proud of you, too.” He stopped and kissed the top of her head. They’d both realized that they were responsible, together, for Lita’s pregnancy. That when Lorenzo had forgotten to pack her pills, he’d been expressing his true desire to have a baby with Lita. Like his feelings, being a father scared him, but he would stand, with Lita, and be a man, a husband, a father.

Lita pulled him toward a stone bench on the side of the square. “You can see a bit of the bay from here.” She stepped up on the seat of the bench. He hopped up next to her, holding her close.

“Beautiful,” he said. He meant her, not just the view.

She caressed his hands as they held hers. “What’s your birthday wish?” She enjoyed asking questions like that. She’d told him during their session with Dr. Martin that she understood now that he wasn’t a talker, but that he showed his feelings. But that sometimes she needed to hear the words too. And he needed to hear her feelings.

He encircled her in his arms. “To hold you, like this, in our bed after we make love. To believe we both feel enough, for each other and the baby.”

“Oh, Lorenzo,” she said, her voice soft with tenderness and gratitude. She turned and went on tiptoe. With a caress of his jaw, she drew him closer. They kissed. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He made a low noise of pleasure. Giggling, she gazed at him. “I believe, sexy man.”

“Let’s go home.” He hopped down. She jumped into his waiting arms. He swung her around, making her laughter bubble up more. Her joy filled him, sealed the cracks. Holding hands, they strolled, together.

***

“Hello, sir, can I help you?” a saleswoman at the baby store said as Lorenzo looked around, clueless.

He rubbed the back of his neck then smiled. “Yes. I want to set up a nursery. My wife is pregnant.” Lita was out with Celeste today, he thought maybe planning a party for his birthday. He would surprise her too. And he had to be quick, because Lita would be home after dinner. Lorenzo had said he had to work late, but this was his work.

“Oh, congratulations. When’s she due?”

Lorenzo’s smile remained. “Thanks. Well, not for about seven months, I guess.”

The saleswoman titled her head, a puzzled expression on her face.

“Julie,” he read off her nametag. “It’s a surprise for my wife. I don’t care if we end up replacing everything later.”

A smile beamed on Julie’s face. He’d figured that would get her. At places like this, they worked off commission. “What kind of furniture does she like?”

“Classic, cozy, nothing too modern. And I just want the basics—crib, rocker…”

“Of course. We have some lovely sets.” She walked to a corner of the store. Lorenzo followed, focused on trying to figure out what Lita would like best. When he saw the crib and dresser the saleswoman pointed to, he knew that was the one. Its simple lines and fresh, mellow whiteness would please Lita.

“I’ll take it.”

“Wonderful. Would you like to sit in the rocker? And then we can look at some accessories—a lamp, blankets, things like that.”

Lorenzo nodded. He hesitated in front of the rocker. He hadn’t sat in one since he was a boy. What the hell. He plopped down on the padded seat. The chair swayed back. Huh, it wasn’t bad. A bit tight for him, but it would be perfect for Lita. He placed his arms on the sides. They curved smoothly. His chest expanded. He’d be sitting here with a baby—his and Lita’s. She’d be a great mom. He’d be a dad. He stood and cleared his throat.

“Show me what else we’ll need.” They already had the most important thing—love. And that couldn’t be bought.

Chapter Nineteen

“This is enough food for an army,” Vincente said to Lita as he helped carry trays into the dining room, where Gina was setting out plates, napkins, and utensils. They’d gotten back from their honeymoon the day before, just in time for Lorenzo’s birthday.

“The family’s all going to be here,” Lita said. “You’re sure he doesn’t know?”

“Yeah. I kept him out this morning, like you asked.”

Gina walked over and leaned into Vincente. They both still beamed from their honeymoon in Italy. Like Lita and Lorenzo had. Like they would again. She believed in him, in herself, in their love.

“Thanks, Gina. It looks great.” Lita smiled and hugged them.

“We better get home,” Vincente said.

“Thanks for your help.” Lita surveyed the dining room. The curtains swagged back, letting in the mellow May sunlight. The long cherry table was covered with stacks of plates, rows of silverware and napkins, trays and platters—rainbows of vegetables, fruits, meats, salads, bread, cookies, and a three-layer mocha cake on the sideboard. Lita’d baked it herself. It was Lorenzo’s favorite.

Lita turned and hurried into the kitchen. Celeste counted coffee cups at the table. She smiled at Lita.

“I should’ve talked to him last night,” Lita said. “You know how he feels about his birthday. I’m ambushing him with the whole family.”

“We’ll all stay in the living room, with the door shut,” Uncle Enzo said. He and Grandpop sat at the table, surveying the room like two grand dukes. “You and Lorenzo take your time. When you’re ready, you come in the living room. For you, he’ll be happy.”

Lita nodded. Even Uncle Enzo saw that Lorenzo was changing. She had changed too. Love could be scary—awful, in the true sense—awe-inspiring and terrifying. It had taken a leap of faith to accept that Lorenzo loved her. She’d already leapt off that cliff. Now she trusted they’d fall together—and be supported along the way.

Sophia, Carlo, Sal, Paolo, Marco, Joey, Pete, and Gianni all crowded into the room, chatting and ribbing each other. Lita rubbed her belly and smiled. She hugged everyone, accepting congratulations from Gianni, who she hadn’t seen since Vincente and Gina’s wedding. Gianni took her hand and led her into the foyer.

“Lorenzo told me about what happened with Lee. I shouldn’t have asked Lorenzo to be my wing man.”

“It’s okay, Gianni. I trust him. I want him to be able to do things with his cousins.”

His posture relaxed. “Still. I want you to know he was just an innocent bystander.”

They both laughed—innocent to describe Lorenzo didn’t seem to fit. But it was true.

“You know what I mean, huh?” Gianni said. He smiled, a wicked, boyish grin like Lorenzo’s.

“I understand. Thanks for telling me.”

“So we’re good?”

She nodded and kissed his cheek.

“Watch it, little lady.” He winked. Gianni was the worst flirt in the family. Lita shook her head. She pitied the woman who fell for Gianni. Or maybe it would be Gianni who’d be taken by surprise. Love liked to surprise with sneak attacks, like it had with her and Lorenzo.

“Let’s go,” Grandpop commanded from his rear position. He motioned the family into the living room. He and Uncle Enzo each kissed one of her cheeks as they passed. She smiled.

Lee and Janetta hurried in. “Sorry we’re late,” Lee said. “You okay?”

Lita nodded. “He’ll be here any minute. Everyone’s in the living room.” Lita covered her mouth, her stomach churning. She ran to the bathroom. But she was okay. She blew out a breath as the queasiness passed. She checked her makeup in the mirror. “Okay, little one. Your daddy should be here.” She patted her stomach and walked back into the foyer.

Lorenzo and Vincente stood together, whispering. Vincente spotted her, clapped Lorenzo on the shoulder, and walked into the kitchen.

Lorenzo faced her, his expression unreadable. Then he smiled, his dimple a boyish, mischievous touch on an otherwise intensely masculine face. Lita rushed into his arms, breathing him in. Even the time since this morning seemed so long. She leaned into him, inhaling his scent, comforted by his strong arms around her, his tall, solid frame surrounding her.

She rested her chin on his chest and peered up at him. He caressed her cheek.

“I love you, Lita.”

“I love you. I have a birthday surprise for you. Are you okay with that?” She squeezed him closer.

“Of course. First, I have something to show you.” He grasped her hand and led her upstairs. They walked down the upstairs hall to the little door next to their room. Lita looked at him. That was just an extra room, used for storage now—it used to be Aunt Angela’s sewing room.

Lorenzo opened the door. Sunlight streamed in from the large window. A beautiful crib set was placed around the room, painted a mellow cream color. The light green curtains, heavy cotton, were pushed back. Lita walked around the room, touching each piece, picking up the tiny blankets, feeling the lampshade on the Winnie-the-Pooh lamp, running a hand across the spines of the books lining the bookshelf.

“You did all this?” said said, her voice thick with unshed tears.

“Had a lot of help. Including Celeste, who kept you out yesterday.”

Lita laughed and hugged him. “I love it.” She placed a hand over his heart. “You’re okay?”

“Better than okay.” He kissed her. Gently, he placed his hand over where the baby nestled inside her. She cupped his hand with hers and gazed at him. He smiled. “And tomorrow we’re going to have our marriage blessed.”

She laughed, a joyous giggle, and kissed him. “Now for your surprise.” She grabbed his hand and led him downstairs. She was already blessed—
la grazia dell’amore
had worked its miracles.

Chapter Twenty

Lorenzo caressed Lita’s lower back as he stood behind her. She opened the pocket doors of the living room. Their family filled the room.

“Surprise! Happy birthday!” they shouted.

Lorenzo chuckled. He and Lita circled the room, getting hugs and handshakes and congratulations. Soon, they all went to the dining room, filling their plates. The delicious food satisfied him. So did the company, the support of his family. With all this help, they couldn’t go wrong. And he and Lita would still have time alone. There hadn’t been a baby in the family for over twenty years—since Joey was born, and he was only a year younger than Lorenzo. Everyone would be trying to get a turn.

After eating, they stood talking. Lita leaned into him, their arms intertwined. Lorenzo’s body warmed, from the inside, and relaxed, each muscle released with every smile, with every calm word, with every soft touch.

Then they cut the cake. Lorenzo usually hated birthdays. The only joy had been when Lita would bake him something, ask him what his birthday wish was. Even before he’d realized he loved her, she’d been able to take him out of himself, appreciate the joy in her perspective. He watched her as she laughed with Gina and Celeste, putting on a CD, cajoling everyone to dance after dessert.

Lee approached him with Janetta. “I get it. You love my sister. She loves you. I accept that. The past is past, right?” He held out his hand.

Lorenzo shook it. “Agreed.” He noticed a sparkling ring on Janetta’s finger. He lifted her hand. “This have anything to do with your attitude adjustment?”

“Could be. That and being an asshole was tiring. Don’t know how you did it all those years.”

He shoved Lee’s shoulder. “Lesson learned.
So, when’s the wedding?” Lorenzo teased Janetta, whose smile was as wide as his felt. Happiness was contagious.

“Ha ha. It’s an Oprah engagement, you know, forever engaged, never married.” She and Lorenzo watched everyone in the foyer. The older couples danced sedately while Sal twirled Lita around and Vincente swayed with Gina. Love healed.

“Your parents aren’t going to like that,” Lorenzo said. Sophia and Carlo were traditionalists.

“Gramps is already threatening to sic Grandpop on Lee.” Janetta laughed. She loved giving her family—especially Uncle Enzo, Janetta’s “Gramps”—a hard time.

Paolo walked over and tweaked Janetta’s ear. “I heard that. Forget Vittorio. You best worry about me. I need another wedding to plan.” He winked at Lorenzo, who returned the gesture.

“Oh, please, you’ve done two now, with yours coming. Come on, Lorenzo, let’s go,” Janetta said, pulling him into the crowd. She grabbed Lee, and Lorenzo took Lita in his arms. Sal patted him on the back. Almost everyone danced now, and, as Lita sang boisterously along with “I Love My Wife,” others joined in, giggling and hamming it up.

Even Lorenzo sang along, whispering in Lita’s ear as he held her close. “’I love my wife, I love my wife…’” he trailed off as she gazed up at him before smiling.

“You’re no Sinatra,” she said.

“I hope not. One wife’s all I need.” He kissed her, enclosed in her wondrous softness.

After dancing, their family chatted, some lingered in the kitchen, still hungry, while others sat around, laughing and snuggling. He and Lita chose the latter.

They stood together at the door, he and Lita, watching Vincente and Gina walk up the block, the last to leave. Lorenzo shut the door, still smiling. His face was sore. He wasn’t used to smiling this much. He and Lita turned off the lights—Uncle Enzo and Celeste had already gone to bed—and walked upstairs together, exchanging memories.

When they reached their room, he shut the door. Lita hugged him. He held her for a long time. She looked up at him, her eyes sparklingly tender, her fragrance surrounded him. “You’re the best, the only man for me.”

He smiled wider; she took his hand and led him to bed.

Later, they lay together, sleepy-eyed, their breathing rhythmic and steady.

“Life is full of little miracles, isn’t it?” she asked as he stroked her hair.

He paused for a few moments, feeling her warm softness, her breath tickling his neck. He remembered that first night they’d spent together, how he never thought they could be together like this, how they’d forgiven each other’s mistakes, how they made love again tonight as if it was their wedding night, full of tenderness and fire. How he watched her earlier as she sang, her beautiful, glowing face, her silliness, how she had become a part of them all, how even Lee accepted them, how incomprehensible it was that he loved her more than ever.

“Yes, it is,” he said. His birthday wish had come true. He held Lita tighter. He finally believed.