Selena Kitt - Letters to the Baumgarters

“I don’t care.” Nico’s jaw tightened. “Besides, we won’t stay long, I promise.”

Everyone was already there, Nico’s sisters busying themselves setting the table, except for the younger Caprice, who was holding the baby in her lap. He was smiling and laughing, almost sitting up by himself already. Anna’s husband, Sal, and Giulia’s husband, Will, were parked in front of the television, and Anna’s two kids were on the floor playing a card game.

“There she is!” Mama Dorotea spoke in English, her accent thick. “The graduation girl!”

There was a big banner “CONGRATULATIONS DANIELLA” hanging on the wall. I didn’t quibble about the spelling.

Mama Dorotea hugged me, rocking back and forth, patting me on the back, saying “Congratulazioni!” again and again. I thanked her, finally disengaging myself, only to have her turn her attentions to her son, hugging him even harder than she had me, crooning over him.

Mason watched this with a mixture of unease and amusement on his face. I took his hand and squeezed it, leading him into the room.

“Cute kid.” Mason sat on the sofa, looking down at Caprice playing with Luka on the floor. “He’s getting big.”

“Want to hold him?” Caprice offered, lifting the baby up. I glanced over to see Mama Dorotea whispering something intently in Nico’s ear.

“Ummm.” Mason didn’t have much choice. Caprice plopped the baby in his lap, standing and brushing off her jeans.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, heading down the hallway toward her room.

“Okay then.” Mason lifted Luka up under the arms, looking at him. The baby drooled, giving us a toothless smile. God, it still made my uterus hurt to look at a baby, but it was different than before. Now it was the pain of wanting, instead of the pain of loss.

“You look good with a baby in your arms,” I teased him.

He smiled over at me, letting the baby bounce on his knees.

“How’s the heir to the throne?” Nico asked, joining us in the living room. Mama Dorotea had finally let him go and had busied herself instructing her daughters to rearrange place settings at the table.

“Drooling,” Mason informed him, watching a dark spot growing on the thigh of his dress pants where a pool of Luka’s saliva had fallen.

“He’s teething,” Giulia called from the dining room where I could see her folding napkins. “Breastfeeding is murder nowadays.”

“Oh.” Mason blinked. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“At least he’s getting some,” Will grumbled. He said it in Italian and Mason raised his eyebrows at me when I laughed.

“Tell you later,” I whispered.

“So Daniella, what are you going to do now that you’ve graduated?” Anna asked, coming into the living room. She sat on the arm of the chair her husband was kicked back in. Everyone was speaking English for Mason’s benefit.

I shrugged. “Look for a job, I guess.”

“In Italy or back in the states?” Giulia joined her sister in the living room, reaching for the baby. Mason gave Luka back and I smiled at his reluctance.

“I’m not really sure…” I glanced at Mason and then at Nico.

“You have to hear this!” Caprice came into the room waving a CD case. “I’m in looooooove with this singer!”

Will and Sal protested but she put it on the stereo anyway, some American pop singer I’d never heard of named Rick Astley.

“Everything okay?” I leaned in so just Nico could hear me over the sound of the music.

He shrugged one shoulder, looking up as Mama Dorotea appeared in the doorway.

“Well, in honor of Daniella’s graduation,” she said, her accent heavy. “I have something to give to her.”

Nico and I exchanged amused looks. She was talking like I wasn’t even in the room.

“Girls, help me,” she said, urging them to follow her.

“What in the world?” I mused, watching as Anna and Caprice followed their mother out the door. It wasn’t long before I found out. All three of them reappeared in the doorway carrying a ton of cream-colored satin and lace.

Nico half-stood, his jaw dropped. I just stared, aghast, as all of them held up the dress, spreading the train out on the floor. It was the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen, and looking at Mama Dorotea’s face, I knew I was going to have to break her heart.

“For you,” she said proudly. “I made it myself. I can’t wait for you to be my new daughter.”

She was actually blinking back tears, which just made it worse, and brought tears to my own eyes.

“Nico,” I whispered, gulping.

“Mama, you shouldn’t have done this.” He stood fully now, looking back at me. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“Well I know it’s a little premature,” she said by way of apology. “But your sister said you bought her a ring, and I know she’s going to say yes.”

Mama Dorotea beamed at me and I smiled weakly back, feeling sick. Then it dawned on me, exactly what she’d just said.

“You… what?” I blinked up at Nico. “A ring?”

He shrugged, reddening. “It was before… before I knew.”

“Knew what?” Mama Dorotea demanded, arms crossed over her chest.

Mason cleared his throat, standing. “That Dani’s agreed to marry me.”

“Again?” Anna exclaimed.

“Yes,” I replied. “Again.”

Mama Dorotea drew herself up to her full height-all of about five-foot-two-and shook her finger at me. “How dare you come into my house! How dare you do this to my son!”

Nico stepped between her and me-she was heading straight for me, like a cat, claws out-grabbing her wrists. Everyone stared-even the baby had stopped fussing to watch.

“Mama, it’s fine.”

She frowned up at him. “What?”

“It’s fine,” he said again, letting her go, but not letting her get to me either. “I knew about it. Dani told me. She’s made her decision and it’s final.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, blinking back tears.

I felt Mason’s hand on my shoulder. “Maybe we should go.”

“No!” Nico turned to me, frowning. “I want you to stay.”

I looked up at him, pleading with my eyes, and then he sighed.

“I’m sorry you went through all this work.” I looked at the dress then at Mama Dorotea. “I’m so… so sorry.”

“You should be.” She glared at me around her son. “You’re going to regret this!” Then she turned and stalked off toward the kitchen, leaving her daughters holding the dress.

“Let’s go.” Nico sighed.

Mama Dorotea reappeared in the doorway. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home,” he said, taking my hand. Mason already had my other one.

“Don’t you walk out that door!” Mama Dorotea pulled at Nico’s shirt as we started for the door. “Don’t you dare!”

“Mama!” He spoke Italian back to her. “Listen to me. I’m a grown man. I’ve been old enough to make my own decisions for a long time. I love you, but I’m your child, not your possession. You don’t own me. You don’t get to say where I go or what I do. Please. Just… let me go.”

She stood in the doorway, tears streaming down her face, and I felt horrible for her in that moment. I wanted to put my arms around her and comfort her, but I knew I was the last person she wanted sympathy from.

She proved that at the last moment, calling, “He’s far too good for you anyway!” before slamming the door behind us.

“Well,” Mason said as we went down the stairs. “That was awful.”

“She’s just pouting,” Nico replied, taking my hand again as we started to walk, Mason on my other side. “She’ll get over it.”

“But…” I swallowed, glancing up at Nico. “I have to know. Are you really okay with this?”