LAUREN

I gaze out the window, staring at the snow-covered tops of the Alps as we wind around the seemingly endless curves at their base. I felt reinvigorated as soon as we stepped off the plane into the warm, fragrant morning air, like I was where I was meant to be.

I never thought I could live anywhere else besides Chicago. I was born there, raised there, and it’s the only place on earth that holds so many memories of my parents. But Italy has sucked me in, making me want the slower way of life where every moment is savored and nothing is wasted.

“My mother cooked all night,” Antonio says as if I didn’t already know that.

Mrs. Forte hasn’t stopped her mission of trying to put some meat on my bones. She mutters the same words in Italian every time we’re there about how frail I am and that she needs to take care of me.

To be honest, I love Antonio’s family just as much as I love him. They’ve opened their arms to me and embraced me as one of their own without any reservations or hidden agendas. Even Stefano has grown on me, which I never thought would happen.

I glance toward Antonio and smile. My stomach rumbles at the thought of Mrs. Forte’s cooking. “Will everyone be there?”

“No. Violetta is on tour in Germany with her band, and Flavia is somewhere in Norway in search of a Viking.”

I chuckle as I imagine Flavia stalking through villages, trying to find the stereotypical Viking with facial hair and bulging muscles. “She knows they don’t really exist anymore, right?”

He sighs. “She’s been stalking some guy on Instagram for months. She claims he’s the real thing and that she’s just a fan, but I worry it’s becoming an unhealthy obsession.”

“We all love our fantasies. Let her live hers a little. She’ll find out soon enough that the image we portray isn’t always who we are.”

“I suppose, mi amore.”

As we pull into the familiar driveway, a sense of calm washes over me. Every bit of stress I have melts away every time we’re here. That only happens in two places, and they’re both near and dear to Antonio.

Mrs. Forte steps out the front door before the car comes to a complete stop and comes barreling down the stone stairway with the biggest smile on her face.

“I told you she was excited.” He laughs as he places the car in park and turns off the engine.

Just like she does every time, she plucks me out of my seat and wraps me in a hug so tight, I almost lose my breath. “Ah, my dear. You are looking well.” She pulls away and places her hands on my cheeks, giving them a hard pinch.

I wince and put my hands over hers, still not used to her pinching areas of my body to test my fragility. “It’s so good to see you, Mamma.” The name slides off my tongue like I was always meant to say the word to her.

“It’s so good to have you home,” she says as she pulls Antonio into our hug. “I know the girls are excited too.”

“Where are they?” Antonio asks as his mother finally releases us.

“Sleeping. We didn’t tell them you were coming so they wouldn’t be awake at an ungodly hour. Come, let’s have coffee on the veranda.”

Antonio throws his arm around my shoulders as we follow his mother into the house. Catarina is outside, waiting for us with four mugs and a freshly brewed pot of coffee. The sun dances off the tiny ruffles on the water and twinkles as the breeze blows gently across the top. The view of the lake is more beautiful every time I see it.

Catarina rises from her chair with the biggest smile. “I’m so happy you’re here this weekend. I needed someone to go shopping with. It’s meant to be.”

“It’s a good thing I brought my credit cards,” I laugh because Catarina makes shopping an Olympic sport.

“Sit. Sit,” she says, opening her arms and motioning toward the chairs. “I want to hear about work.”

I scrub my hand down my face, wanting to talk about anything but that. I’d rather stick hot pokers underneath my fingernails, but I decide to placate her with an easy answer. “The merger is done, and it’s business as usual.”

“That’s it?” She glances toward Antonio with a perplexed look.

He shrugs and reaches for the coffeepot. “Everything’s in place, but we’ve hit a few snags.” He fills my cup and peers over at me before pouring his own. “But nothing we can’t handle.”

“Mamma,” a tiny voice says behind me, and we all turn.

It’s Amalia, standing just inside the house with her little bare feet inching toward the stone veranda as she rubs her eyes. She’s wearing the cutest pink nightgown, with ruffles and lace lining the edges and skating across the floor.

“Mali,” Antonio says and holds out his arms.

Her hand falls to her side, and her eyes grow wide. “Zio!” she squeals and runs across the patio in a mad dash before jumping into his arms.

“Ah, my girl. I’ve missed you,” he whispers in her ear as she wraps her arms around his neck like a little monkey.

She pulls away and places her palms flat against his cheeks, squeezing until his lips pucker. “Zio Ant, I have so much to tell you.” Her face is so serious as she speaks, and my heart flutters at the sight as Antonio smiles at her.

“Tell Zio Ant what’s wrong, piccolo. I’ll fix it.”

The man would move mountains for those he loves, especially his nieces who have him wrapped around their little fingers. But in all reality, they have me too. All the hours spent playing and watching Toy Story on repeat haven’t been for nothing. They lured me in, and there’s no escaping their magical spell now.

“There’s this boy,” she whispers.

Antonio’s eyes narrow, and he peers over at his sister.

She lifts her hands and looks away. “I know. I know.”

“She’s seven for shit’s sake.”

Amalia gasps. “Zio, you can’t say that word.”

Antonio’s face softens as he glances down at the little angel in his lap. “I’m sorry. What did this boy do?” He raises an eyebrow, and I’m wondering if he’s already plotting against the boy.

“Well.” She grabs ahold of his cheeks again and tilts her head, still with the most serious face I’ve ever seen on her. “We were on the swings, and he was pushing me.”

“Did he knock you off?” Antonio jumps right to the worst-case scenario.

“No, Zio. Let me finish.” Amalia takes control of the situation and puts her uncle in his place like she always does. “When the teacher called us back into the building, he helped me off the swing and then he kissed me.”

Well, knocking Amalia off the swing would’ve been preferable to what she just told Antonio. His face turns a shade of red I haven’t seen before, not even when Jim said the vilest things.

Antonio turns his gaze on his sister, who’s smiling. “I will end him.”

She laughs and rolls her eyes. “He’s seven, brother. There’s not much you can do about it.”

“Zio. Listen. To. Me.” Amalia’s voice is so deep and husky that she immediately gets Antonio’s attention.

“The teacher saw it and gave him a detention. But I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?” he bites out while his face is still smashed in her little hands.

“Why did he get in trouble? He didn’t do anything wrong. I mean, you kiss Zia Lauren, and Pappa kisses Mamma, and no one puts you in detention.”

“Mali, you’re just a baby.”

“I am not a baby. I’m seven.”

I cover my mouth and chuckle quietly in my palm. Girls. We always want to grow up earlier than we should. I remember my first kiss and how in love I was with the boy who forever will be etched in my memory. It faded fast, especially when I caught him kissing my best friend by the monkey bars the very next day. It was my first failed relationship, but certainly not my last.

“I know. I know. But you’re too young to kiss.”

Her hands finally fall away from his face, and she crosses her arms in front of her chest, putting distance between them. “I am not too young. I liked it too,” she says with so much sass.

Antonio’s shell-shocked. His mouth opens like he’s going to say something, but he can’t decide what to say, so he snaps his lips shut. Amalia makes a face at him and hops off his lap before storming into the house.

“Well, I…” Antonio says, completely dumbfounded.

Mamma and Catarina are laughing almost to the point of crying because it’s not very often that Antonio doesn’t know how to handle a situation.

“We know,” Catarina says. “I had the same talk with her yesterday. It’s futile.”

“I’m not ready for them to grow up.”

“It’s inevitable. I remember the first time you got in trouble for kissing a girl,” Mamma says with a small laugh. “Her parents were so furious that her father pounded on our front door and demanded an apology.”

“And so it begins,” Antonio mutters.

“Wait until you have your own. It’s so much worse,” Catarina replies.

Antonio grimaces and glances in my direction. “We don’t have to worry about that for some time. Lauren and I are taking it slow.”

Mamma clears her throat and purses her lips. Her displeasure in the statement is evident. “Well, don’t wait too long. Time isn’t a luxury that comes with an infinite supply.”

I learned that lesson with my parents. As a little girl, I thought I’d have them around forever. Death isn’t something a child can comprehend, but I learned fast when my mother didn’t come back. I cried at the front window in the living room for months, staring out the glass as I waited for her to return. In time, the cold, hard truth became my reality, but it wasn’t until I was an adult that I finally understood the only thing that’s infinite is death.

ANTONIO

Guila, Amalia, Catarina, and Lauren left two hours ago with fistfuls of cash and dozens of credit cards in their purses. They would most likely spend an amount equal to the GDP of some small nation and help boost the economy of Como in a single day.

“When are you going to ask her to marry you?” Mamma asks as I sit with her in the kitchen as she preps tonight’s dinner.

“I’ve brought up the future, but Lauren wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.”

“Naturally, she wasn’t. There was a lot going on between business and that mess with her ex-boyfriend. Everything is settled now, yes?”

“Yes, Mamma.”

“Did you ask her to marry you?” She stares at me over the pot with her head tilted.

I shake my head and avert my eyes.

She places the spoon on the counter next to the pot of sauce that’s already been cooking for hours, but that doesn’t stop her from babying it until the taste is perfect. “No woman wants to talk about a hypothetical future. Ask her the question. If she loves you, she’ll say yes. If she doesn’t…”

“If she doesn’t, what? Do I end the best and really only relationship I’ve ever had?”

“No.” My mother covers my hand with hers. “If she says no, you ask again and again until she says yes.”

“So, I pester her into marrying me?”

“I’ve spent enough time with Lauren to know she’ll say yes. She’s madly in love with you, but she is scared to take the next step. Remember, she’s lost everyone she’s ever loved. There’s no greater heartache in the world than losing your parents. You should know this.”

“I do.”

“But you still have me and your brothers and sisters. Lauren has no one. She’s been independent for so long that taking the next step has to be frightening.”

“I suppose you’re right, Mamma.”

“I’m always right, Antonio.” She smiles and pats my hand, going back to the pot of sauce and picking up her spoon. “Ask her. It’s the only way you can move forward with certainty.”

“I will.”

“Now run to town and buy the biggest diamond you can find. Don’t cut any corners, and make sure it’s flawless.”

I’m appalled that she thinks I’d get Lauren anything less, but it’s my mother, and she always feels the need to “guide” her children.

I round the island and kiss her cheeks, thinking of everything I need to pull off a proposal that will make Lauren say yes without any hesitation. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Big, Antonio,” she says as I’m halfway to the door.

“Got it, Mamma!” I yell back and head into town, ready to spend a small fortune on a ring.