“That’s a good age,” Mama agreed.
“Is it? I want to be eight. There’s a boy who lives across the street who said when I’m eight he’ll give me a kiss.”
“Rora!” Bambi cried.
Everyone laughed.
I rested my cheek against Rora’s strawberry scented hair as I held her in my lap and watched almost everyone I loved interact beautifully with each other. I wished fervently that Dante could be there to see our family merge, to see how gorgeous they were together and how lucky we were.
But even though my heart ached hollowly, I knew he already understood that. Dante never took anything in his life for granted, least of all his family.
“You okay?” Beau asked me, reaching across the island to squeeze my hand. “You must miss him.”
“I do,” I agreed. “Married for three days and he’s taken away. But I have faith. We’ll figure it out.”
He blinked at me. “You know, you’ve never looked more beautiful than you do sitting there talking about Dante with that pretty child in your lap loving you like she’ll never stop. You can deny it all you want, but I know this is all you’ve ever wanted. Not the high-powered job or the closet full of Chanel––though admittedly, that’s amazing too. Dante gave you want Daniel never did.”
“What?” I asked, even though I knew.
Even though I could feel it pulsing all around me as Addie laughed gruffly with Seb and Chen, as Tore spoke quietly with Mama while the assembled the timballo, as Rora absently took a lock of my hair and twirled it in her fingers while Jaco danced his sister, Bambi, around the living room.
“A family,” he said.
“Yeah,” I agreed, laughing breathlessly because my lungs were compressed with happiness while my tears stung with sadness. “What a Christmas gift to send from prison.”
We laughed together, but the poignancy of the night remained as we cooked together and sat down for Christmas dinner in the Italian fashion, on the eve before.
It seemed appropriate instead of shocking when Frankie announced that Dante had gifts for everyone and passed out presents to every single person seated at the table, even Beau. I watched Mama unearth bottles of Tore’s Limoncello and olive oil, Seb unpack a signed copy of The Godfather DVD Dante must have paid a fortune for, Beau a Prada scarf, and Adriano new gold embossed dog dishes for his beloved dog, Toro. Everyone had a gift, but I had four that Tore placed in front of me when everyone else had opened theirs.
I swallowed thickly as I lifted the lid from the first one and discovered a framed copy of the only photo we had from our wedding day. Cosima had taken it with my phone, her model’s eyes capturing a truly beautiful moment where Dante had one palm at my throat and the other around my hips, both my hands in the back of his short hair holding him to me as we smiled against each other’s lips.
I was crying, but no one teased me about it, not even Seb or Frankie.
Next was a long, slim box that I opened only to close immediately again.
“Oh my God!” I cried, but I was laughing.
Beau, who was next to me and had caught a glimpse asked, “Is that what I think it is?”
It was.
A black dildo still in its package.
There was a note with it that read:
Play with tua bella figa for me while I’m gone. I want to be able to picture you spread wide and wet, pleasuring yourself while you moan my name.
Xoxo,
Your capo
My skin was burning up as I looked up from reading it, but everyone laughed, even Mama who seemed to think the gift was hilarious.
After that was a gorgeous pair of La Perla lingerie with instructions to wear it for him when he finally got home to me.
And the fourth was a box embossed in black that read Gatto’s.
Inside, nestled in a bed of tissue paper so fine it seemed to disintegrate against my fingers, was a black and white diamond necklace. Three huge diamonds were ringed in a halo of smaller black gems that glinted like the night sky around the stars.
I lost my breath to its beauty then again when I read Dante’s card.
Black and white and red, lottatrice mia. The colors of our life and our love.
I looked up with teared filled eyes at the dinner table filled with almost everyone Dante and I loved, Tore at one head of the table and me in Dante’s place at the other. My fingers trembled as I lifted my glass of Montepulciano wine in a toast that everyone echoed robustly.
“To Dante.”
“To Dante!”
Twenty-Six
Dante
There was one reason I went to jail.
Elena was right when she assumed those friends in high places could get me off with a hefty fine for bail jumping instead of having to pay with incarceration.