Last time on P & C's…
"Kids," says Marie from the stairs as she steps down, Tony coming over to meet her. "Come here for a minute, we have something to give you."
"This is a graduation gift, for you both," Tony says as Marie holds out an envelope to us. Ness takes the offered gift, unfolding the seal and delicately taking out the wad of papers folded into thirds.
"We're moving back to The Hague in a few weeks and we'd like you both to come visit. You both need a holiday, and while you're in Europe we want you to see more than just Holland."
… [Ness] jumps up from where we're seated, throwing her arms around her parents arms. "Thank you! Oh god, mom, dad thank you."
…[Then]I lean forwards, kneeling on the woven floor rug, falling into Tony's arms and Marie's and Ness's. They've included me.
Ness shifts an arm until it's wound around my back, her face pressing against my cheek. "Love you," she whispers, her smiling lips pressing against the shell of my ear, she sounds so hopeful and at peace; she sounds happy. "I get to show you my home."
Thanks Aretee for being my Beta. It's been a long slog this week hey?
They're off to Europe guys.
Enjoy.
Chapter 54 – The 'short' good bye.
We're somewhere over the Atlantic, about two hours out of New York and another four until we get to London. It's late, and already I can tell I'm gunna be all muddled up with the time zones. It's almost midnight at our home, almost 2am where we just left, and 6am for where we're headed.
But the plane in still in Eastern Daylight Time, only it's not daytime, it's night time and the lights are turned down low. We got a meal shortly after take-off and the flight attendants have handed out the thinnest pillows and blankets I've ever seen. The arm rest is folded up and Ness is curled up into me as we both watch an inflight movie on the screens in front.
We're going to visit Nahuel for a bit over a week in London before we head to her parents' place in the Netherlands. Ness is excited to see her old friend and to show me the sights of her father's home town. I'm excited that the legal drinking age is eighteen. Ness has twelve more days to hold out. Then we're gunna paint the town red. Somehow I doubt Nahuel is going care about legal ages of alcohol consumption though. It think we might just be painting the one bedroom apartment in Soho red ahead of schedule.
The atmosphere in the cabin is subdued. It's quiet apart from the constant hum of the engines and the occasional muffled cough. As the majority of the passengers try to nap or immerse themselves in a movie or some other consuming activity there is little light but the faint reading lights above a few scattered seats and the soft changing glow of the behind the seat screens.
Ness and I are in the very last row, the part where there's only two seats instead of three. The only problem is it's just next to the bathroom. The main benefit is… it's just next to the bathroom. Bathroom… also known as the headquarters for the mile high club. I'm keen to become a member.
"Do you want to go now?" she asks quietly, her eyes wide and dilated in the darkness as the credits of our movie roll.
I swallow hard, suddenly nervous as shit, but now totally sporting a rising boner. "Do you want to?"
She nods, biting her lip through a smile, "yes." She winds up her ear phones, tucking them into the pocket of the seat in front. "I'll go first and then you come exactly ninety seconds later." She's whispering, but I can still hear the excitement in her voice.
I am one lucky fucker.
She stands, stretching and clumping her blanket on her seat, then leans towards my ear, "Ninety seconds."
I nod, grinning like a fool, and shifting in my pants. "One Mississippi, Two Mississippi…"
Ninety Mississippi's later, I stand, fold my blanket on my seat and step to the bathrooms just behind us. "Ness," I whisper call, rapping gently on the 'Occupied' door.
The red slides across to a green 'Vacant' sign with a metallic click. She's pulls back the door, poking her head out a crack. I look down to see her smiling, wild eyes shining back at me
Sideways I step into the cubicle with her, both of us shuffling in the confined space. "How the hell are we gunna fit Ness?" I'm so excited to make this happen, I just hope Ness can put all her flexibility to good use.
She grins at me, winking as warm little fingers slide over my belt, unlooping the leather as the buckle tinkles with its release. Her voice is sure and husky, and sneakily sexy as the zipper of my fly goes down. "Oh, we'll find a way," she says, "I'll make sure of it."
The week with Nahuel is crazy and wild and fantastic. And, like his latest boyfriend Sebastian says, that fag knows how to have a good time. But as good as partying with her best friend is, Ness is anxious to see her parents. She can't wait to show me the home she lived in as a toddler, before they moved to Ukraine. Apparently Tony and Marie have properties dotted all around the continent.
We're flying into Rotterdam Airport, it's evening and the lights of the city are sparking and pretty as we circle around. I've got the window seat for this flight. We originally decided to just take it in turns for the window, but so far I've got it both flights. Ness insisted that I should see the sights as we approached. She's always doing that kind of thing. They're only small things, like the window seat, the last French fry, more of my fair share of the hot water in the shower. But I notice, and if it's even possible, I love her all the more for it. She's always looking after me, giving me what I need, even if I don't even know it.
We disembark, walking up the aerobridge, bundled along with the rest of the arriving passengers. We both turn as we hear our names called. Marie standing behind the barrier waiting with arms wide open. She must have come from work because she got on a dark blue tailored dress suit, her hair is pulled back into one of those professional looking bun thingies and she has only one fine gold bracelet on her arm. She's not clinking.
If it wasn't for the way her face is lighting up at the sight of us, I almost wouldn't recognize her. She looks totally different in her business clothes. Every bit the international human rights lawyer that she is. The Hippy love child of Joni Mitchel and Jim Morrison I know form Forks is gone and is now replaced by a modern day Jackie O— only sharper.
"Mom!" Ness calls, skipping over to be embraced by her mother. I follow a second later.
"Hey Mrs. Mason," I say standing off, and holding on to both me and Ness's carry on's.
She looks up at me, leaning up from her hug with Ness and opening one arm out to me, "Come here you," she says, puling me in for a welcoming hug too. "Welcome Jake. How was the land of Shakespeare? Much ado about muffing?" she whispers so only I can hear, obviously still reminded of the first time I met her and Tony… in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. I just chuckle under my breath, kissing her on the cheek. There she is, the love child of Joni Mitchel and Jim Morrison; the liberal, free spirit that Ness inherited, front and center once again.
Ness has had a great birthday with her parents. Her mother's been spoiling her rotten, cooking all her favorite food, and her father's been letting her get away with pretty much whatever we wants this week; which—for the record—is sleeping in and staying out late.
Tony's taken it upon himself to try and be some kind of father figure to me— or something like that. I don't mind thought. As good as it is to follow Ness around the local high street shopping –which her and her mom do… a lot— it's gunna be good doing guy stuff for a change.
Today, Ness and her mom have gone shopping, just the two of them, and her dad's brought me to Scheveningen Beach so we can give sailing a go. I've never been sailing. I've been out on the water at home more times than I can remember. But it was always on one of the big fishing boats or with dad and Charlie and Uncle Harry on their little V hull with the eighteen horse power outboard they owned together. I guess it's just Charlie's now.
It's beautiful on the open water, the sun reflecting off the mirror like water as the wind filled sail propels us along. I escape for an hour or two. Tony—of course— is an accomplished sailor, and he has me trimming the jib sheet and tacking our way back in by the end of the afternoon. The smell and sounds of the ocean reminds me of home. And for a minute I imagine it's my dad calling for me to steer into the wind over the noise of the flapping, luffing sail as we sail for the shore.
But he's not my dad. He's Nessie's. There will only ever be one man who I will call my father—and he's buried underneath the earth of the Quileute reservation, side by side with my mother and a miniature wooden ore tucked under his arm.
There'll come a point where his absence will really hit me. I mean, I really hit me. Hopefully by then the raw wound of his loss will have a healed over a little. I miss his beers in the fridge; I miss his small one-lined pockets of advice.
I miss him.
There have been a so many times already on this trip that I've though, "dad would love it here," then I remember to correct myself to the past tense, "dad would have loved it here." And as we scoot over the water, the wind in my face, a fine mist of saltwater spraying my face I think, for the hundredth time, that dad would have loved this. And I vow to myself to enjoy every moment in his memory. I'm gunna seize the day.
Today is a good day.
The train is gently rocking back and forth as we travel along the foot of the Swiss Alps. After The week we spent with Nessie's parents, we had another great five days in Amsterdam and a good three in Geneva and now we're on our way to Italy, on an overnight train that will take us directly to Rome.
As soon as he found out we were coming to Italy, Luca instead on seeing us. That is, he instead on seeing Ness— I somehow doubt I'm on his radar. But he's on mine. A big bleeping blop on my screen. I'm not letting that enemy vessel anywhere near my tiny flagship— the HMS Renesmee. We really should talk out a line of attack. Have a strategy and talk about the impending usurper. We will… later.
Currently though, we're still in neutral territory. We're literally at the foot of the Swiss mountains, skirting the edge of The Lake. Its late evening and the sun is setting behind the peaks, the sky is lit up in vermilion oranges and crimsons pinks with a glimpse of heaven. The darkening water is glassy quiet and it reflects the giant mountain that's cast in an indigo shadow as it looms over us.
"Ness," I say. She's reading a book, her shoes are off, and her legging clad legs are tucked up under her in the seat next to me, her hair's in a long braid that's hanging over her shoulder.
She looks up, the pages of the novel patting it against her chest. "Wha?"
"Look," I say again, looking out the giant window of our overnight cabin and nodding with my chin to the view outside. I have the window seat again. She leans against me, her arms resting on my shoulder as we both gaze.
"Oh," she breaths, flopping her paperback on the seat as she climbs over the arm rest and onto my lap. She tucks her knees up, snuggling down into my arms as I wrap them around her. "That's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
It is beautiful. I take a mental snap shot, committing this moment to my long term memory. Then I shift a little, leaning to the side and turn so that I can look down at the pretty girl cuddled in my arms.
"Second most," I say. My fingers trace a line down her arm. From her toned, deceptively strong bicep, down to her petite, delicate wrist, little goosebumps pricking up in my fingers wake.
It's not a line—I mean it. The fading light has her porcelain skin painted in a warm golden wash, it highlights her features, the shadows of her lashes lengthening on her cheek, the fullness of her lips plumped. She's my angel incarnate.
She drags her eyes from the window, the sunset-lit starburst hazelnut shining now at me. I take a burst of mental shots, searing them to my mind too.
She lifts her chin, reaching her lips to mine and I lean down, pressing my lips to hers in a soft, warm sunset on the edges of Switzerland kind of kiss. We pull back, both smiling, "I love you," she says.
"Ditto."
She stands off my lap then, reaching over for her phone. "Quick, let see if we can get a good photos of those colors."
So I shift and she sits back on my lap. She's so light and tiny. I love that she can just sit on me. Like a kid… but she ain't no kid. She sets up the camera on her phone holding it out in front of us for a selfie.
I reach my arm up and take the phone from her. "Let me do it," I say. My arm adds at least another half foot of reach. "How do you do anything?" I tease her. In all honesty, I love how little she is.
"Shut it Hercules and take the photo," she laughs, wiggling her ass on my lap and resting her head on my chest.
We take a couple of photos, some smiling at the camera, one where she's looking up at me while I'm still looking at the camera and the last one is where she's looking up at me and I'm looking down at her too… and our lips are kissing. In all of them though, the sunset is spectacular, the tip of the snowcapped mountains are white against the shadows below and in all of them… she's beautiful.
"These are so going on Facebook," she says turning and snuggling back into my chest, her knees tucking up and pressing against the glass. My arms wrap around her shoulder, holding her to me as we rock back and forth on the train taking us to her past.
.
Roma Termini is as thriving busy chaotic metropolis station, even at a quarter past ten on a Saturday the morning. Together we make our way off the train and into the terminal. Both our bags are small and light and easy to maneuver. It's obvious Ness is a seasoned traveler from how light we're packed. She was a cutthroat Nazi when I was packing back home, making me take out half the stuff I had in my case. I'm glad for it now, though.
We're weaving though crowds of travelers and locals alike. Ness could blend as local; she totally does when she speaks Italian. But me? No chance. Apparently there aren't many full blooded NA's who travel much. Or at least that's the vibe I've been getting with all the curious looks. Or maybe it's just that fact that a five foot one woman is walking hand in hand with six foot and four inches of Indian. We're used to it, but we still get lot of second glances.
But I think really, it's just because Ness is so beautiful that people stare. I'd stare at her if she walked passed me in a busy railway station. Oh wait…I already do… daily.
I am one lucky fucker.
We stop to check the directory, Ness reading the Italian map and pointing to where we need to head in order to find the café where we're meeting Luca.
We're meeting Luca.
He's picking us up.
Her past and her future colliding.
I'm still not too sure how I feel about meeting him. I suppose it was inevitable. But I'm still not sure. I don't think Ness is sure either. We haven't talked about it.
We probably should have.
I follow her, both of us with daypacks on, both of us have a hard case suitcase trailing behind on a long sticky handle thingies. Then we see the café ahead and Ness waves to a man sitting on a stool at the bar. He's straight out of a vogue magazine or something, cool jeans and a cool jacket, cool sneakers and that stupid cool chinstrap beard.
He turns, taking one last sip of his coffee… and then he stands up. Well, he doesn't so much as stand up, but more jumps off the stool. Not cause he's excited or anything, but because he so fucking short. His head's like, barely reaches up to the counter. Okay, okay, okay, so maybe he's not that short, maybe five-seven or something. Compared to Ness he's average height, but to me, he's short.
And it's made my fucking day. My whole freakn' year!
"Ness, ciao. Come stai bella?" he says as he holds her by the shoulders and kisses both of her cheeks. Left and then right. Then he holds her at arm's length smiling and looking at her in an entirely too familiar way. "Mi permetta vi guardo. Bella più che mai." His snaky short arms wind over her shoulder as she turns back to me. Then she steps away from him and closer to me, winding her arm between my backpack and my back.
Take that shorty.
"Luca, vorrei che si incontra il mio fidanzato, Jake," she says, her other hand pressing flat on my abbs. "Jake this is Luca."
"Nice to meet you in person finally," I say holding out my hand.
Short ass takes it, and I squeeze the shit out of his tiny little hand.
Take that shorty.
"Yes. You are-a very tall Yacob. I did not expect-a dis," he says, pulling his hopefully broken knuckles back, and gesturing towards me in general. No, I bet the short ass didn't. Then he puts both hands on my shoulders and kisses both my cheeks. Left and then right.
Well okay then, I think to myself. At least he's not playing favorites.
He turns to Ness, taking her suit case off her as we start to walk. "Mamma dice che devi venire ora del caffè," he says to her.
"English Luca," she scolds, coming into step with me.
"Scusa. Sorry," he says to me before continuing, "I say, my mother say to you that you must-a come for, un cafe."
"Morning tea," she says to me, "Lucas mom wants us to go there for some morning tea."
We stop on the curb to the parking lot, bags standing upright with a clink on the pavement. Ness turns to me, stepping between my legs. Her body is pressing against mine, her hip pressed against my thigh, my hip into her stomach, only breaking contact at her breasts as she leans back, arms around my ribs, looking up at me. The unsaid question in her eyes.
"Yes-a," he says, his head almost poking between us. The sent of his heavy cologne hits me in a not pleasant way, he smells like Lahote. "We have-a morning tea, but-a we have coffee not tea. You come now, before-a you go to de hotel," he says to me, winding his free hand in the air like I suppose all good Italian's do. "She has-a some gifta for Ranessa."
I feel Nessie's hands against my back, as we stand hip to hip while she waits for my reply. Her little leg rubs against my leg, and awfully close to The Big Chief in this little whit skirt she's got on. "Sure," I say, suddenly much more comfortable with the Shorty-short-short being comfortable with MY Ness. Her body language speaks volumes and it reassures my cave man ego. Mine. I can practically hear my inner animal growl.
We may as well go get all the ex-family hello's out of the way. We can't check into the hotel until two; and anyway, I'd kill for a decent coffee right now.
Luca's mother is pretty much how I'd imagine an Italian house wife would be. She's homely and dotes on her two adult sons, and weirdly so, she's even doting on me. The house too, is pretty much how I imagined a wealthy Italian Bankers house would look like. It's grand and marble and clean and somehow they both exist cohesively in the coffee smelling, biscotti eating world of Renesmee's past. I try to not dwell on the fact that I know Ness and Short-ass fucked in pretty much every room of the house, including the kitchen we're currently eating in and how said, around-the-house fucking with Luca thus produced baby Angelus.
At one point in her life Ness was a huge part of all their lives. This much is obvious as Mrs. Florientino brings over the tall shining coffee pot form the gas cooker. The motherly lady plops a good slosh of milk and spoon of sugar into a mug and hands it to Ness without out question; she still remembers how Ness takes her coffee, milky with one sugar. I realize how much Ness needs this re-connection with people she once considered family. I feel this same way at Charlie's house too, only we're normally in front of the big screen at the Swans residence, not the kitchen. I'll have to go see him before Ness and I go off to college. I bet he misses my dad a heap too. The Chief's probably got no one to talk sports with now. It's not like he can talk stats with the Ed. I think I'll send Charlie a post card tomorrow. And Aunty Sue.
We're just finishing our coffee when Lucas brother Paulo comes home from his workout, he greets her like a little sister, teasing and protective. He reminds me of Emmett, only not as massive, and darker… and Italian.
It turns out that Paulo is much cooler that the short ass brother. For starters, he's not had sex with my girlfriend before and he's not currently suggesting to the idea that he'd like to once again. So that helps. Paulo's into all sorts of cool stuff. He's got an amazing Fiat Spider, it's topless and red and I'd love to take it for a drive but I doubt I'll get a chance.
His English is very good, he's just about to start his second year in Linguistics at The University of Rome after having a year off to do his compulsory military service in the Italian army. He pulls me and Ness up from the table, determined to show me around the house, "Come, I show you mia Cassa."
We all walk through the marbled floors. I get shown the library and the larder, the basement and the bedrooms Luca probably fucked her in— multiple times. I catch him with his hand on the small of Nessie back a few times as he lets her pass. What does he think, he has some kind of right to touch her just because he has in the past?
He doesn't.
I'm thinking I just might have the right to punch him in his shorty chinstrap chin— multiple times—if he doesn't quit it though. But I don't. I just squeeze my fists tight a few times, feeling the pull of the tendon around the old fracture from twelve months ago. I'm not too discrete in the glaring look of animosity I give the short-ass cocksucker either. I also don't miss the discrete disapproving look Paulo gives him.
I like Paulo.
The tour of the house ends out the back. There is a pool and a grape vine covered courtyard that they call a cortile. And then, after a little heated discussion that I am only privy too with Nessie's translations, it's decided we're going to stay for lunch. Without warning, Paulo takes a running leap across the cortile, swinging up the lattice and on to the terracotta tiles of the roof in an awesome display of his skills in Parkour. He is running and jumping across the roof line of the palatial house, all to the sound track of his mother's worried calls. "Porco dio" she calls, "Pualo, scendi, prima collo si spezza!" obviously worried her son in going to break his neck.
"Is okay mumma," he yells back from the top if the gazebo, "I do this-a all the time-a— when she not home-a. Come on-a Jake, come up-a and I show you to do. Lucca, il tuo culo grasso qui anche."
Luca makes a pained sigh. I somehow doubt the short ass is as athletic as his brother.
I'm keen to try, but I don't want to leave Ness with octopus hands. Again, Paulo calls for us both to climb up. I make a 'ladies first' gesture to Luca, my eyes challenging him to show me what he's got.
'Cause he 'aint got Ness, and he 'aint getting her… that's for sure.
His eyes get steely and he rubs his hands together, mumbling something— probably derogatory— as he starts up the climbing ivy. I give him the head start, turning to Ness, and pulling her in for a quick hug and a longer kiss, knowing that he's watching us.
Take that Shorty.
She gives me a wary frown, cautioning with loving concern as she looks up at the height of the gazebo but not making any move to prevent me from trying something new, instead allowing me to seize the day.
"Just be careful," she cautions gently. I nod, giving her a sexy wink before stepping back and taking a running jump, my hands landing straight up onto the eight foot guttering. She gives me wings, this girl of mine. She lifts me, and helps me be better. With her love as my fuel— and possibly a little Neanderthalish compulsion to one-up the rivalry— I do a pull-up, then a muscle-up, rising to the roof. With my head over the lip of the roof-line, I see Paulo to the left of me, leaning over the edge, waiting for his slow-ass brother. I wish I had my shirt off right now. Ness would be loving this gun show I'm giving. I swing my legs sideways, my back and abs bunching until I land in a crouch on the roof with a light thud. Luca arrives a good thirty seconds later, his brother giving him a monkey grip tow up.
Take that shorty.
…
As weird as it seems, it's so much fun as all three of us jump from and angle to angle up on the roof top of Number 86 Via Garabaldi. It's hot in the midday Mediterranean summer sun and we're working up a sweat as Paulo shows me some basics of this military style obstacle course training. Lucca takes his shirt off. So I do too. Not really looking but totally comparing guns, I can't help but smile when I do. What did he think, he's gunna intimidate me by showing me what he's got?
He ain't got nothing.
We're talking as we jump; school and cars and the craziness awesomeness of Amsterdam at night; until Lucca, that is, starts to fuck up my good mood by pointing out that she still wears his angel necklace. He keeps on fucking it up by making thinly veiled comments that I guess are supposed to remind me that she was his before she was ever mine. No shit. I know exactly what sits just above her tits every time I look at them. But I don't let him get the better of me. I know she doesn't wear the necklace because it's from him. I know she wears it to as a memento of her child. I know this. And just because he was first doesn't mean he got the best of her. Like Ness says, the best fruit is at the top of the tree, you have to wait for it to be ripe. And boy does she climb me, she climbs me like a monkey… daily.
After a few more irritating back handed comments, Paulo has words with the cock sucker in Italian. I think Paulo tells him to 'back of' or something like that, the words stronzo and bastardo thrown around a fair bit. I think the word for 'fuck off' is vaffanculo too. Did I mention I like Paulo?
Take that Mr.-decent-pecs-but-tiny-delts- hopefully-too–hairy–for-Ness's-liking-tanned-but-not-as-tanned-as-me-shorty-short-short.
After about a half hour of climbing and vaulting and me not letting the ass wipe trigger the beat down he has coming, Ness calls out from below asking us to come down so we can go get some fresh bread for Mrs. Florientino.
"Sure, babe," I sing out, standing on the second story balcony roof and lowering myself into a hang before dropping to the terrace. Still a little sweaty but excited by the workout, and maybe just a little trying to prove who has her now, I pull Nessie's into a hug, lifting her up with hand under her ass and kiss her good and deep and oh so public. Paulo drops down the same way I did, but Luca chickens out and enters via the balcony door.
Pussy.
Me, Paulo and Ness walk down to the bakery, Luca is still being a pussy emo and doesn't come. Good.
I don't really want to stay for lunch with the smart ass, octopus hands hanging around. I don't know if Ness is even aware he's touching her. But Mrs. Florentino is cooking all this food and I know Ness misses her old surrogate family. I hope in the deepest wells of my soul that she doesn't miss her ex, but I'm not sure. He's certainly putting on a real show to remind her where he used to stand.
Past tense is all I'm hearing though— and I hope it stays that way. Besides, lunch won't be so bad if I can talk to Paulo. He's pretty cool and so is his mom. I'm glad Mr. Florentino is away for business though, I remember Ness telling me he wasn't too supportive of the whole teenage pregnancy thing. I don't want to meet him, he's probably as big a dickhead as his son.
So with all that in mind, I don't say anything about going to the hotel early, and we walk back to the house with a dozen amazing smelling bread rolls. I could have bought just about everything on the shelves of that bakery, from the plain oil and herb pizza pianca's to the golden crusty looking filone di Renella bread loaf; from the canoli pastry to the zeppole doughnuts. I'm pretty hungry now.
Morning has morphed into afternoon, and I have to admit that, quite frankly, that was one of the best and biggest lunches I've ever eaten. Not emotionally, Lucas still being an overly familiar, unsubtle ass. But gastronomically, oh man; Antipasti with all sorts of salami, preserved vegetables and cheese, then the pasta, oh god, such good pasta. Then when I'm was full to almost bursting, Mrs Florentino brought out the main course, breaded veal and salad and potatoes with herbs all over them. And then fruit for dessert. I won't want dinner tonight. Probably.
We're all just sitting quietly, just picking at the fruit platter laid out in front of us when Mrs. Florentino asks Ness about her dancing. And she tells them. She tells them that there isn't anything to tell, she doesn't dance anymore. As she speaks I can her hear the undertones of sadness and longing in her voice, her eyes fixate on the little pile of cherry seeds on the white linen tablecloth in front of her.
"You were-a so good Ranessa," Mrs. Florientino says, "bellissima ballerina." The older ladies fingers come up to her lips as she kisses them and then tosses them away in a flurry of Mediterranean delight.
Paulo nods, sipping his coffee, "Do you remember that-a competition that you-a won and we came-a to watch-a you? You were-a so good. Why you stop Ranessa?"
She's quiet for a beat, and I grab her hand under the table squeezing it hard. I know why. She left her dancing behind when she left all that was associated with Angelus behind too. The experience changed her, and with that change, the consuming commitment it takes to be a professional dancer was renounced too.
The mood around the table has dropped as Ness hesitates with her reply. "That was before, Paulo," she breathes out, her eyes unfocused on the blank wall behind his head, "before…" The rest of the sentence is left unsaid as her voice loses strength. It doesn't matter, it doesn't need to be spelled out—we all know what she means.
I put my arm behind her, resting it on her chair, a hand rubbing gently on her shoulder. Like a little tower of wooden blocks, slowly she tilts, further and further until she topples, falling against me in pieces.
"Ssssh, baby," I mumble, both my arms now encircling her little body as she leans silent and still, propped against my chest.
There are a few minutes of reflective silence as everyone around the table each thinks about their own memories of that time. I'm mostly remembering dad and mom, but I'm still hurting for to woman in my arms too. I want to fix it for her, but I can't. She's got to find a way to be happy inside herself, all on her own. All I can do is be there for her. And I will be.
Today is a good day— I don't have to see the entire path, I just have to take one step— My future self is rooting for me, I release expectations on what I thought my life would be like.
"I put-a some gardenia for his tomba yesterday, so that it is-a pretty for you, Ranessa," says Luca, breaking in the somber silence. He's quiet and less confident as he speaks. I realize for the first time since I arrived that he too lost a baby at sixteen. I might not like the way the guy's been lusting after Ness, but I can tell he genuinely feels that loss and I understand now why she keeps in contact with him.
And then, like the lid of simmering pot of water it lifted, all the budding compassion I may have felt for the player evaporates as he gives me a wink and lifts off his seat reaching across the table and brushing a hand over her knuckles. He fucking winked at me, he WINKED! Fucking pussy digger. Excuse me, short-ass fucking pussy digger.
In my mind's eye I imagine myself picking up the cheese knife lying on the table and embedding it deep into his hand. Instead my hand, the one that's holding Ness's, just squeezes her tighter. If it's too hard she doesn't react, instead she pulls her other hand back from his as if it's burnt her.
I just glower at him, the fist of my free hand bunching and un-bunching again underneath the table. I swear if I could growl, I would be right now. He's looking at me too, a hint of a smirk I just want to knock off that suave face. I just want Ness to tell him to fuck off, to renounce all ties to him and his family. To say, thanks for nothing loser, I hope I never see you again. But I know she's not gunna, and the fucker knows it too.
He turns his attention back to Ness whose eyes are down, studying the crumbs on the tablecloth. "You want we go see, I take-a you?" he asks.
He knows exactly how to play her. No one can know or share what they've lost, but them. And it kills me.
To be trusted is a greater compliment than being loved— The best proof of love is trust.
I think she's missed the silent power play going on between Luca and me. But my incredible girl and me, we operate on the same wave length. I'm not sure if she's picked up on his little glances and touches these last few hours, but unconsciously she has at least. Or maybe some part of her just knows that I need her to choose, not that I'd ever ask her to. Just like she never asked me to with Bella. It had to come from me.
"No," she says with self-reliance in her voice, her head's shaking gently back and forth but still she seems lost in some inner-mind image. "I don't want you there. I just want to show Jacob." Her little fingers rise up to play with both pendants around her throat. Back and forth the little charms zip, gliding along the chain with a metallic purr. Her hand pauses mid pass and she looks at me, "can we go tomorrow?"
"Whenever you want to. Tomorrows fine sweetheart," I smile, a small breath of relief rushing out of me.
It's difficult to resist the urge to look at him, to give him the finger and poke my tongue out. But I do resist because he's not important enough. I'm not giving him the power.
Instead, I hook my arm around Ness's neck, pulling her closer and kissing the crown of her head, her nutty exotic smell filling me from the inside out.
Today is a good day.
Ness might have missed the silent exchange between Luca and me, but his mother and his brother haven't. When we stand to leave, Mrs. Florentino nods her understanding as we step into the foyer.
"I take-a you," Luca says, assertively making a grab for his car keys. The last thing I want is to have that cock sucker anywhere near me in close confines, and there is no way Ness is sitting in the front seat with him again. I hate having to rely on the dickhead for a lift. I wonder if Ness would mind if we just caught a cab. But before I can begin to think up an alternative, Paulo grabs his keys off the entry way counter, muscling Luca back into the kitchen.
There's a small brotherly scuffle and an argument similar to the one on the roof earlier, it's in a broken Italian-English blend, but I understand the gist of what he says. Luca's car is blocked in by Paulo's and Paulo's going to take us to our hotel. I don't know what Luca makes of his brother twisting the situation, but I'm grateful for the reprieve from the ongoing reminders of what is now ancient history, nevertheless. I hope Ness is too.
"Andiamo, let's go," Paulo says, motioning for us to go outside.
"Speta Paulo, voglio dire addio," Ness says to him. Turning and pulling Mrs. Florentino, into a tight hug, and a kiss on both cheeks; left and then right. It might be my imagination but there is a very distinct finality to Nessie's goodbye.
Then she turns to me, looking up with a sadness in her eye I haven't seen in months, "I just have to say good bye," her eyes straying over the kitchen doorway, to where her ex and the father of her angel child is, "I won't be long."
Against all the good sense in my body, and a searing burn in my chest, I let her go as she steps back into the kitchen to where Luca is. I suck in a trembling breath and press my back teeth together, the grind shuddering through my jaw. I'm going to have to see a dentist when I get back home.
"Come on Jacob," Paulo says with a friendly hand on my shoulder, "I show you my car again. She come down when she finish." He gives me a knowing look, nodding for me to trust and to rise above.
I nod, closing my eyes and taking another long steadying breath.
To be trusted is a greater compliment than being loved— the best proof of love is trust.
And by God, do I love her.
I hope she loves me enough.
A long fifteen minutes later, she emerges, alone, from the front door of the villa. She's been crying, her eyes are red and puffy, her eye makeup a little smudged on the sides.
She's still beautiful.
With a step heavier than I've ever seen it, she clops down the sandstone steps, falling in to my arms. Her little hands pull at my shirt as she presses her face to my chest, inhaling.
"You okay?" I ask, smoothing a warm hand down her back.
"Yeah," she says inhaling again. "Oh man, that smell fixes everything." She lifts up on to tippy toes breathing in the skin at my throat. "Rexona and coffee, mixed in with You." A light kiss pressing at my pulse.
"Love you."
"Love you too," she smiles, it reaches her eyes this time, "let's go find this hotel."
We're taken on a zippy ride through the ancient city. Ness and I have to talk but we're waiting until we're alone. Paulo speeds through the city streets as we ride in the red convertible with the summer sun on our face.
Paulo again promises me a chance to drive the Fiat. As much as that would be cool, I really hope I never have to see this family ever again. "Another time," I say as we pull up to Albergo Del Senato. Ness's parents have booked everything for us. I have a little surprise up my sleeve later on in the week though.
Paulo helps us get our bags out of the trunk, Ness taking him in for, what I think, and hope, is a final goodbye hug and a kiss on the cheek; left and then right. I bid Paulo arrivederci –even I know that word— and we check in.
Silently I follow Ness to the elevator, riding the short three floors up.
I stand in the door way of room three-oh-five, one hand splayed against the wooded door as we wheel our luggage in. The other hand grasps hers as she steps by me, the cool metal of our room key pressed between us.
"You want to talk about it?" I say.
She looks up, gazing at me with love and sadness in her eyes. "I told him good bye," she says after a few heartbeats, stepping in to the room and tossing the room key in the ashtray on the desk.
I let the door go with a soft click, "I never asked you to do that."
"I didn't do it for you, Jake." She leans her butt on the desk, hunching over and rubbing her forehead with her fingertips. "I needed to do it for me. I don't know what he's feeling right know, I think he just wants what's familiar. But I'm not the girl he dated two years ago, and I'm not interested in him like that. I thought we could stay in contact as friends, but… I was wrong." Her shoulders slump even further, then she looks over at me by the doorway.
"Sorry you had to sit through all that today," she says, standing and moving her suitcase to her side of the bed. The right side. "If I'd known Jake…" she looks up at me with a regretful mien. "I honestly didn't know he still held any kind of flame."
I can see it in her eyes, she's honestly didn't know he was still in love with her. "You're crazy." I smile, "it's alright Ness, if I was jealous, it's now passed." She's obviously hurting over whatever was said and done earlier, and all that matters to me is that Renesmee is okay. I love her and she loves me and we're okay. "How could a guy not want what you have to offer, Ness? You're perfect."
And she chose me.
I can't help the little victorious smile burgeoning on my face.
"I love you so much,'" she smiles, walking over to me and reaching up to kiss me.
She's perfect.
And she's chosen me.
Take that shorty.
I take a few steps, meeting her in the middle of our room. I pull her up for soft, life affirming, soul mingling kiss.
After several minutes we pull away, still arm in arm, but our lips are our own for the time being. With the uncertainly of us now reassured, I let myself focus on something other than Ness and I look around the hotel room. It's warm and comfortable with its hazelnut wood floors and creamy golden wallpaper. It's cozy and I feel at home straight away. I'm always at home when she's in my arms.
My hands slide down her back and get a good handful her prefect ass.
The bed is just behind us and I take a backwards leap on to it, the headboard banging with a jump as I pull her with me. We land in giggling pile of arms and legs and love.
My hands start to pull at the shirt she had on, untucking it from the back as my mouth nips at her throat and just behind her ear. God, she smells good.
"Let me go pee," she says pulling back and then coming forwards and kissing me quickly before once again moving backwards and crawling off the end of the bed.
I let her go, trying and missing her ass as she skips to the bathroom. I test out the bed, bouncing up and down a little from the reclined positon I'm in. It's huge and bouncy, and the mirror on the far wall is in a really good position. It really is an awesome room. And the best part is that it's all ours. For our last eight days on this amazing trip, I have Ness all to myself… and we have a king size bed.
After all Luca's shit, I just want to go all cave man a reassert my claim on her. I know it's totally Tarzan-Jane, but it's how I feel. It's like an animal instinct to lay claim. I know, without doubt, that she loves me. I'm 100% confidant that I'm her choice. All of this my brain and my heart know, but tell that to my dick. Little J still wants to leave his mark.
We have eight glorious days left in this ancient country, and for each one of those day I have twenty-four hours of uninterrupted time with my Nessie. A good ten or twelve I intend on spending in this bed, starting from now.
She comes out of the bathroom, bypassing the bed and walking to the window. She says she feels stifled when all the windows are closed. She always prefers just a little bit of fresh air, even in the dead of winter. I'm learning to feel the same. She's my breath of fresh air… every day.
I watch as she pulls back the curtains and I'm taken by her sharp intake of breath, her hand covering her mouth as she lets out a jumble of ooh's and ahha's.
"What?" I say from my relaxed and hopeful position on the bed.
"Come see Jake. Come here." She hasn't turned to speak to me, her eyes still glued out the window as she waves me over. Then she reaches out, unhooking the lock and pushing open the double windows, the slight breeze causing the sheer silk like curtains to flap.
I haul myself up off the bed, padding over to where she's standing. With my chest pressed to her back, I wrap my arms around her, large warm hands pressing flat against her soft tummy as I rest my chin on her head and look out. The picture before me is one I've seen a hundred times, only it's never been in real life; only a few months ago I was learning all about it on a TV show with my dad.
There is a grand piazza below us and to the left, an even grander building; eight large granite columns supporting a giant portico and behind that is the rotunda. From here on the third floor I can't see the oculus—but I know it's up there too. My heart pauses at the sight and the emotions it brings up; my father always wanted to see this and it's right outside my window. "Is that the Pantheon?"
"Yes," she breathes.
Both of us are staring out, letting the sight soak into our skin. From outside the window, the smell of biscotti and coffee blows in on the warm July breeze, mixing with Nessie's exotic spice. I can hear the honking of horns and mopeds revving from the streets below and it's all soothed over by her steady breathing as her back rises and falls against my chest. I can't believe my life sometimes.
Then Ness pulls away from me abruptly, ducking under my arm. "I have to send my parents a thank you text. This is the best view ever!"
I turn and look as she ruffles though her bag and gets out her phone. She has on a fitted blue and white striped shirt, it's got a zipper up the middle— which is just screaming to be unzipped— it's been tucked back into that tight white cotton skirt that's siting high in her tiny waist and only comes an inch or two over her ass. God, she's got good legs; they're short, but there in perfect proportion to the rest of her perfectness, and they're spectacular.
"Wrong," I say, stepping away from the window.
Her fingers pause over her phone, looking up at me confused.
"I thought we discussed this yesterday, Ness." I stop a foot away from her, just within arm's reach but not touching. "You, my tiny dancer, are the best view ever."
Her confusion transforms into a flattered grin, her lips pulling back across straight white teeth as her smile lights up her face from the inside out.
She looks at me, her little arms reaching out to the little V of skin showing at the collar of my polo. Her fingers lightly touch the dip at my throat, tickling at the edges of my collarbones and up over my Adam's apple before the soft skin of her knuckles skim over the small bristle of my three day growth. Her eyes are soft and gaze up at me. I can see her love in her eyes. It's like I'm reading the most amazing love letter ever written only she doesn't need to write me a single word.
My eyes travel down, along her milky throat to the two pendants nestled between her breasts.
One for me and one from him.
"Ness," I say, testing the mood, "can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
I pull her in, pressing my hard-on into her tummy, my arms trapping her against me. "What the hell did you ever see in him?"
She's quiet for a minute, her eyes darting between mine in trepidation. It's not a trap, I'm not asking so that I can start a fight or dredge up the past. Because I know from how she was to him and how she was towards me, that it's just that, the past.
But I'd still like to know. "He's just so short," I exclaim, a teasing smile playing on my lips.
She lets out a frustrated huff, slapping my chest and rolling her eyes. I don't need her reassurances. I've never felt so sure of us as I do right now. "He's not that short to me," she says from her five-one elevation.
"Yeah, but you're a mini person Ness, to the rest of humanity he's a short-ass. And to me, well shit, he's miniature."
She looks up at me with an arched brow, "Maybe not all of him is miniature."
I know she's just teasing. If there is one thing in life I'm confident in, it's my… endowment.
"Are you shitting me?" I say, giving her my best fake incredulous look. My hands wrap around her torso, thumbs just under her boobs, each finger counting her ribs as I tickle and she starts to giggle.
"Yes!" she laughs hysterically, wiggling under my tickling hands, "I'm just shitting you! Stop! Yes The Big Chief is the biggest! Oh, hail Big Chief Black, the biggest dick in the Pacific Northwest." I tickle her ribs a little more, my face nuzzling into that nook at the base of her neck where she smells the best. "The biggest dick in Europe, too!" she cackles. I love her laugh, it's pretty and sexy and cute and irresistible all at once as it drifts out the open window to the Piazza della Rotonda.
My best friend's laugh.
God I love her.
My future self is rooting for me, I release expectations on what I thought my life would be like.
I pull back, staring in to her sunburst eyes. "You sure?"
"Yes." Her breathing is labored as she recovers from her laughter.
"Very?"
She nods, pressing her stomach in to my dick as she leans her boobs back and up and she undoes the first four inches of her zipper top. She's biting her lip and looking at me like I'm dinner. I'm happy to be her salami feast.
My eyes dart from her cleavage to her eyes, back to her cleavage, then her eyes again. "Let's make sure, just in case you've forgotten just how big "The Big Chief" is." Sweeping her up under her arms and her knees, she lands with a big bounce and a laughing squeal on the big king size, my big chiefness launching on top.
