Stefano's Peach

“Wow. That is beautiful,” she says. Then she turns and looks at me, face blushed. “I don’t know how old you are?” She ducks her head. A full out laugh rumbles from my belly. I have really lost it over this girl.

“I am so sorry, little peach. I am thirty-seven years old.” I kiss her head and pinch her side wanting some of the seriousness to leave her face. When she giggles, I can't help but sniff her neck and lick it.

“Mmm,” she moans moving her head to the side giving me more access. “So tell me about your parents?"

“My most vivid memory of my parents is a perfect example of the relationship they had. I guess you could call it an argument, but really it was my mom voicing her want and my dad choosing to put her need above everything else. When I was seven, my aunt came over to the house because she wanted to go to Vegas and wanted my mom to go. My mom didn’t see the harm and told her as long as my dad said ok, she would love to. My mom wasn't just a housewife. She was also a society wife being that my father was a high-powered corporate attorney. My father was very serious, stern, and non-forgiving. I never saw him as anything other than firm, except for when it came to me and my mother. Especially her. She was...his everything. My mom was the one that did all the charities, threw all the parties, and smoothed over all the clients he may have rubbed the wrong way.” I remember bringing a smile to my face. She was something. “My dad came in that day, in the middle of them planning Vegas. He greeted her as he always did as he walked in the door. ‘Arnáki, come welcome me home.’ She always smiled so brightly when he used the Greek word for lamb when talking to her. Or any Greek word when directed at her. Without thought, hesitation, or worry, she always very happily went to him. She went on her tiptoes, kissed him, and I would watch as he kissed her back, always intrigued by how I could visibly see the tension leave his body the minute he held her in his arms. He would kiss her forehead, whisper something in her ear which usually always made her blush, and then she took his coat and hung it up.

For me it was normal. I used to think this is how all kids' parents were with each other. So after he was settled, he spoke to my aunt and then looked at my mother and asked her how her day was. She told him about everything she did for the day, they laughed for a bit, and then she said, “Stefano, Sarah mentioned about taking a trip with the girls to Vegas and I thought it would be a fun idea for me to go.” Now, mind you, not once did she seem scared or reticent to voice this to him. It slid off her tongue like honey on a summer day. “Really when is this trip?” he asked her, his voice calm and unwavering. I couldn't guess his mood.

“Well, they were thinking about going this weekend.” He looked at her with such adoration and simply said...

“I'm sorry Lamb, that's not going to be possible.” “Why, I don't have anything planned for the weekend.”

“Well I do and I can't not make my meeting because you want to go to Vegas.” Even as a child, I was aware that this is usually when parents would get into an argument. I remember feeling anxious because I could tell how much she wanted to go.

She looked at my father and said, “Well, that's fine I can go..” She didn’t get to finish because my father stopped her immediately.

“You know that it is not okay. Do you go anywhere outside of this town where I am not with you?”

“No.,” she said, the look on her face serene and calm.

“Okay so this conversation is over,” he said so matter of factly. I noticed my mom twitch her hand slightly like she wanted to say something else, but my dad walked up to her rubbed one of his fingers down her cheek under her chin and lifted her face, and said, “what is the most precious thing I have in my life?”

She replied, “Me.”

“Yes, and who gave me the best part of myself? she turned, looked at me, and smiled, and turned back to him.

“Me.”

“You, little lamb. So what happens to me if something happens and I can't get to you? What am I supposed to do?” This is when the light went off for me. This is when at seven years old, I realized the depth of love, devotion, and life went into what my parents had.