Uncle Tito had told me that once. “When you are a young man, time will be kind to you. It will make you believe it will always go at the speed a young man can keep up with. However, after a certain age, blink and you will miss it, Matteo. Even if life attempts to sweep you up in its fast rush of time, stall it by absorbing every second. Do not wish for a day to come, because once it comes, that day will never come again. We Italians are good at this, ah? We meander through life like the warmth from the sun on a hot summer day.”
I wasn’t falling into the pace life was starting to set for me, but I wasn’t as patient with time as my wife was being. She loved how long the nights were. How dark. How cold. Every night, she’d press close to me, even closer than I had her, my arms around her, our bodies entwined. “You feel so, so,sooogood.Like a furnace. I’m surprised you don’t melt all this snow, but you keep me perfectly warm.”
There was a glow to snow when the sun hit it that I’d never really noticed until our second honeymoon. It wasn’t something I would have noticed if it wasn’t for my wife having a similar glow. It was like my wife and the snow burned with a cold fire from within.
As much as she loved the heat of summer, she seemed to thrive in the cold of winter, like she’d been made for it. Especially at night. It was almost like she was imagining playing a game, where she was locked in a cold castle, and I was the warm beast who had found her and fallen in love with her, keeping her alive with my heat.
But it was time to go home. I’d given her the time she’d asked for, and I wanted to find out why the doctor wasn’t getting back to us with the results.
“Hold on!” she laughed. “Why are we almost running toward the plane?”
I picked her up, carrying her instead. I hadn’t been running, but she almost had trying to keep up with me. My strides were long and determined, and even though the ride home wasn’t all that long, I felt like ants had invaded my seat, and I couldn’t sit still. I fucking paced the length of the aisle until it was time to land.
Stella noticed, but she didn’t say anything. She was texting everyone at home pictures she snapped during our time in Germany.
“Call the doctor,” I said as soon as we arrived back at Nonno and Magpie’s walled city in Lucca.
“Today is Sunday, Matteo,” she said like she was out of patience with me. “He’s not there.” She threw a towel at me. “We’re going to be late for Sunday dinner if we don’t hurry.”
Twenty-four hours to go—I was a fucking mess, and she was in dreamland. She laughed more than usual, and she had this faraway look in her eyes, like everything was right in the world, and not one dark cloud was hovering over our heads.
At Sunday dinner, my old man kept watching me. He lifted a brow when he noticed I was on my—I’d lost count—glass of whiskey. It wasn’t the bourbon I preferred, and even though it soothed my nerves at first, it grated on them after.
I fucking liked it.
The alcohol seemed to agree with how I was feeling and was on my side, fucking my head up even more.
My wife was oblivious. She was chirping non-stop about the wedding in Paris and our honeymoon, showing everyone pictures she had on her phone.
“You didn’t send me that one!” Mia smiled, wiggling her fingers for the phone. “That’s such a great picture of you and Teo! Send it to me. I want to update my contact photos for you both.”
It all felt like too much noise in my ears, and when we left, I could have fucking sighed at the quiet in our villa. Then there was a knock at the door, and it was Stella’s mamma and my great-uncle, Niccolo. He was taken with Nola, or Magnolia as he called her, and was taking good care of her. When Stella and her mamma went to make espresso with grappa, since our dinner was heavier than usual, I started to ask him point blank what his intentions were with her, when he said, “Magnolia and I are getting married, nephew.”
I nodded. I knew this was coming. Niccolo was the eternal bachelor out of his brothers, likeZioRomeo had been, like my brother, the Casanova Prince, was, before he got the jeweler’s daughter pregnant. So, when one of them fell, or was falling, it shook up the family a bit.
Niccolo was no young lion, and it had looked like his life was going to be lived with his numerous women, but I’d seen his eyes when he first saw Magnolia. He’d been smitten, and when he said he would take care of her, I knew it wasn’t only for the time we’d be gone.
“I will take care of her, nephew.”
I squeezed his shoulder. “You have been.”
He nodded. “I am healing her weary spirit and will conquer this darkness that has her in its grasp.” He lifted his hands. “It will surrender to me, or I will leave this world fighting with her.”
“You came here to ask Stella’s permission.”
“Stella is important to Magnolia, and Magnolia is important to Stella.” He took the glass of whiskey I offered him. “I was born here in Lucca. The magnolia tree has always been my favorite. When they bloom, they steal my attention, and I have always wished for more time with them.”
Stella and Magnolia came into the room then, holding on to each other. Tears were in both of their eyes.
“Matteo,” Stella whispered, “did you hear the news?”
I nodded and opened my arms, and she came into them. Magnolia went to Niccolo.
“We’re getting married in March,” Magnolia said.
When the magnolias bloomed in Lucca.
And that was that.
