Title: Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows
Author: Kimberly21570
Fandom: Guiding Light
Pairing: Olivia and Natalia
Disclaimers and Other Assorted Ramblings: The characters of Olivia and Emma Spencer, Natalia and Rafe Rivera, Josh Lewis, Gus "Nicky" Aitoro are owned by Guiding Light, CBS/TeleNext and Proctor & Gamble.
Rights to the song Gravity by Sara Barellies are owned by its' writers, artist, production company, and distributor. No copyright infringement intended with regard to GL, CBS/TeleNext, Proctor & Gamble, or any other entity.Chapter 7 is a chronology of Olivia and Natalia's first official date, as well as the events and conversations leading up to it. Some of these events and conversations are told via flashback. I have endeavored to make it clear when the story is shifting from present to past and back again, so I hope that aspect is easy to follow. I have taken creative license, especially with regard to Olivia, in order to create a touch of humor, as well as to add an element of surprise, not only for Natalia, but for the readers, as well. There's some Italian dialogue in this update—I apologize in advance if I've butchered the language at all. Foreign languages are not my forte. The chapter will be presented in four individual updates over the course of several weeks, which will allow me to provide you all with regular updates throughout the course of my semester. The dialogue in this update is original, with the exception of a few lines from the 5.6.2009 episode. I've no doubt y'all will recognize them, even in their altered form. Written for fun, not profit. All other standard disclaimers apply.
Finally, a special thanks again to my fan fiction friend Double O Guest (guestOO) for the opening quote for this chapter. I love it, my friend. Thank you for sharing it with me! And, as always, thank you all for reading. I hope you continue to enjoy…
Rating: Chapter 7.2 is rated PG-13, but subsequent chapters will include NC-17 material.
Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows
Copyright May, 2009
"Need-love cries to God from our poverty; Gift-love longs to serve, or even to suffer for, God; Appreciative love says: "We give thanks to Thee for Thy great glory." Need-love says of a woman "I cannot live without her"; Gift-love longs to give her happiness, comfort, protection—if possible, wealth; Appreciative love gazes and holds its breath and is silent, rejoices that such a wonder should exist even if not for him, will not be wholly dejected by losing her, would rather have it so than never to have seen her at all."
C. S. Lewis; from The Four Loves
Chapter 7.2 – The Outing | The Essence of Romance:
Fifteen minutes later, Olivia's kiss-swollen lips were saying, "Now we're really gonna be late for our reservations." She wasn't complaining. Their coats had been unbuttoned and shed, and she was grinning, ear-to-ear; not the least bit sorry about their delay. The reason was just simply too delicious: Natalia Rivera's insatiable mouth and tongue. Damn, but that woman could kiss! Olivia wanted to know where she learned how to do that—it seemed so out of character for the typically unassuming woman—but then again, she really didn't want to know. She preferred to believe it was the chemistry they shared, that stirred something innate in Natalia. Something Natalia had never shared with anyone else. She wasn't wrong in her belief.
Pulling out of their driveway, turning left onto Oak Crest Road, Olivia followed the winding path past Clear Lake. The back roads were much improved, making it virtually effortlessness to navigate the twists and turns; and they fell into quiet conversation that was as light and airy as the night was crisp and clear. The moon shone brightly overhead, illuminating the winter sky, even as it fell across the lake's frozen surface causing it to glisten in the moonlight, like crystals.
Turning west on Old Route 36, Olivia reached over, taking Natalia's hand into her own. Their fingers instinctively intertwined, and they smiled in concert at the comfortable ease of their silent interaction. It was good, this tacit yet familiar intimacy they shared. Neither had ever shared anything even remotely like this with anyone before, and they embraced it, unashamedly.
"So where are you taking me tonight?" Natalia asked. Her tone was light and casual, and she hoped Olivia was distracted enough to actually answer.
"Dinner," Olivia grinned. Natalia would have to step it up a notch if she wanted to win at this game.
"Dinner—," Natalia parroted. There was no question in her tone; only wry humor. That wasn't exactly the answer she was hoping to receive.
"Uh-huh," Olivia said teasingly, "And then someplace fun."
"Someplace fun—" Natalia's tone was indicative of a direct quote. It wasn't sarcastic; just matter-of-fact. "Boy, you sure know how to pique a girl's curiosity," she grinned.
Olivia laughed. "That's the idea," she teased; navigating the interchange onto westbound Highway 72.
That laughter was such sweet music to Natalia's heart. "You won't even give me a little hint?"
"Nope—"
Natalia sighed helplessly, and fell silent; drawing a snicker from Olivia. "Well, you certainly gave up quickly," she teased. "You're usually a little feistier than that."
"No matter how feisty I may be, you're more stubborn," Natalia said, almost flippantly. Truth was truth. "So I know I'm not gonna get anywhere with you."
Olivia grinned. Natalia knew her far too well.
"Besides, I figure, if you're going to this much trouble to keep it a secret, you must have something really special planned," Natalia asserted.
"Every moment of tonight was planned especially for you," Olivia said softly.
Everything about the way Olivia treated her, made Natalia feel special. "Thank you," she said quietly; but mere words felt completely inadequate.
Olivia smiled and kissed her hand. "It's completely my pleasure, Sweetheart."
They rode in silence for a few minutes, and then, sweeping onto East Clear Lake Avenue, they quickly hit South Livingston Street. "I don't know why we don't just eat at the Beacon, Olivia," Natalia was saying, as they skirted past the hotel. "The food is fantastic, and… it's free."
Sometimes Natalia was just too reasonable. Olivia smiled, and squeezed her hand. "Tonight is far too special for the Beacon, Sweetheart," she quietly declared. "Like I told Emma, I wanna make it memorable for us, from beginning to end."
"I had no idea I was in love with such a romantic," Natalia swooned.
"Scary, huh?" Olivia chuckled.
"Surprising, maybe, but not scary," Natalia replied. "I love this softer side of you, Liv." She lifted their entwined hands, kissing Olivia's fingers.
Drawing Natalia's hand to her mouth, Olivia smiled against it, and kissed the fingers that were tangled with her own. "It's easy to be this way with you," she quietly confessed.
Dropping their entwined hands back onto Natalia's thigh, their quiet conversation continued, as Olivia stayed their course, traveling down East Clear Lake, easing into the bend as it turned into East Jefferson Street, then heading due south on Fifth Street to the corner of Fifth and Ash, where she finally pulled through wrought-iron gates onto a tree-lined travertine cobblestone driveway.
There, in the heart of the city—in a section of Fifth Street that had been miraculously unscathed by the great Springfield fire of 1995—the bustle of commerce fell silent, giving way to the stillness of the night air, as they approached their destination.
Set back several thousand feet from the main thoroughfare, the trees opened up to a building constructed of custom carved natural stone, reminiscent of an antiquated Tuscan villa, complete with sweeping archways, vine-covered walls that climbed up toward terra cotta roof tiles, and crumbling stone retaining walls that outlined the patios and walkways.
Breaking through the trees, it felt as if one were intruding upon a lavish private estate in the heart of Tuscany. In the center of the circle drive was a pristine fountain, bathed in iridescent light. Olivia indulged a transient wish that it were springtime, knowing that the fountain would be simply breathtaking, as the waters flowed unfettered, reflecting off the lights that gleamed into the heavens. Soft light glowed from within, shimmering out onto the snowy lawn through two sets of large windows that framed the heavy chestnut double doors, and a third set of windows, set high above the arched entryway, cast a soft, sensual glow out across the night sky.
A delicate gasp slipped from Natalia's lungs as the building came into view. She knew exactly what this place was, and her heart raced with excitement, as dark eyes swept across it, taking in every subtle nuance of its character; her imagination literally feasting on the sheer essence of it.
Olivia pulled the car to a stop in front of the building, and the valet was immediately there to open her door. Setting one foot outside the car, she turned toward Natalia.
Shrugging into her coat, Natalia reached for the door handle, and was halted by the touch of Olivia's hand. "Wait—," she gently instructed.
Natalia smiled and shook her head, moving her hand back to her lap.
Stepping out of the car, Olivia grabbed her purse; leaving her coat behind. Reaching into the front pocket, she pulled out the cash she had stashed there for easy access, and slipping a very lucrative tip into his hand, she thanked the valet for his service. He nodded his head, and she ran to the other side of the car, opening the door for Natalia. On a weekend night, a second valet would have been there to greet Natalia; but Olivia was glad of his absence—she wanted the pleasure of doing this for the woman she loved.
Taking Natalia's hand, Olivia helped her from the car; receiving an appreciative smile in return. "I see chivalry isn't dead," Natalia teased.
"Not in Tuscany, anyway," Olivia grinned. She closed the car door, and in a flash she saw taillights winding around toward the back of the building, as her car sped out of sight.
Hesitant, Natalia glanced down at her attire, then back up at Olivia, who was watching her with measured interest. "You said we weren't going anywhere expensive," she said in answer to Olivia's unspoken question. "I'm not dressed—"
"You're dressed perfectly," Olivia assured.
"Olivia, this is the nicest restaurant in Springfield," Natalia countered. Her eyes told Olivia she was nervous; feeling out of her element.
Olivia wanted to tease her about heralding a restaurant other than the Beacon the "nicest restaurant in Springfield," but she saw how anxious Natalia was, and thought better of it. Throwing her purse strap over her shoulder, she grasped Natalia's biceps, pulling her close. "I promise you, no one will even notice how we're dressed. I reserved a special space for us, where we can be alone," she explained.
Natalia offered her a wobbly smile. "How did you even get reservations for this place? They're usually booked weeks in advance."
"Trade secret," Olivia winked, grinning at Natalia like the cat that ate the canary.
"Well that explains… absolutely nothing…" Natalia's tone was filled with wry humor again; drawing a laugh from Olivia.
"I'll explain inside," Olivia said, tugging on Natalia's arm. "Come on, it's freezing out here."
"Well, if someone hadn't left her coat in the car…" Natalia said; allowing Olivia to fill in the concluding portion of her if-then statement.
"Oh, hush," Olivia shushed, pulling Natalia into a running walk toward the door.
The heavy chestnut doors swung open as if on cue, and as they walked into the world known as Bella Mia's, Olivia's hand was pressed firmly against the small of Natalia's back. Natalia liked the way it felt there: comforting, possessive even, yet not confining. It reminded her of that Sara Barellies song, Gravity, where she sang with such depth of emotion: You hold me without touch; keep me without chains…
They were greeted by a striking young man with nearly jet-black hair, and eyes as dark as coals. "Good evening, Ms. Spencer, Ms. Rivera," he said cordially, tipping his head at each of them as he spoke their names with flourish.
As their names fell effortlessly from his lips, Natalia shot Olivia a questioning glance, receiving a simple, yet warm smile, in response.
"We've been expecting you. How are you this evening?" he was saying.
Olivia turned her attention to the young man then, "Good evening, Luciano," she greeted warmly. "We're well, thank you. How are you?"
"Molto bene, grazie," Luciano replied cordially. His Italian accent was as a flawless as the sparkling light in his dark eyes.
Natalia surmised, correctly so, that that meant he was doing very well. And then she was caught off guard by the sound of Olivia's voice. "Molto magnifico! Felice di sentirlo, il mio amico," Olivia was saying, in an Italian accent that rivaled the young man's in its gloriousness. She couldn't believe what she was hearing! She wasn't certain what was being said, of course, but something was obviously magnificent—and she wondered if a "mio amico" was anything like "mi amiga," meaning "friend."
"Grazie, Ms. Spencer," Luciano was blushing. "Grazie."
After Olivia made formal introductions, Luciano took Natalia's coat, and turned, speaking a few words in Italian to the maître d', as he handed the coat over to be checked. Then, turning on his heel, he flashed them a winsome smile, and said, "Papà will greet you momentarily. Please, allow me to show you to your table." He tipped his hand, indicating the direction in which they were going, and Olivia took Natalia's hand into her own, twining their fingers, as he directed them toward the winding staircase that swept in a flowing curve up to the private balcony.
It was then that Natalia finally began to soak in her surroundings. The interior of the restaurant boasted a daring combination of modern and classic elements, with soft mood lighting, romantic Italian music, and a comforting warmth exuding from the stone fireplace in the center of the room. Stone-carved mosaic art featuring images of wine, grapes, and Tuscan wineries, embedded within the textured walls, added to the subtle earth tones and chestnut beams that enhanced the rustic feel of the old-world atmosphere, providing a perfect mix of class and elegance with the comforts of being with family; the feeling of home. It was beautiful beyond words, but not overly pretentious; allowing them to dine in an atmosphere of comfortable elegance.
Reaching the upstairs landing, they found a private dining area, with a view overlooking the would-be gardens—which were now covered in glistening snow and ice—and a fire roaring in the beautiful marble hearth beside them. The linen table cloth was an opulent burgundy, reflecting up into the flickering light of the floating candles in the lavish, multi-layered centerpiece that adorned the intimate table for two.
"Your table, Ladies," Luciano presented, announcing it with flourish.
"Grazie, Luciano," Olivia said, as he reached for Natalia's chair. Olivia held up her hand, halting his gentlemanly gesture. "I've got this," she said by way of instruction.
"As you wish, Ms. Spencer," he acknowledged. He politely stepped away, clasping his hands behind his back.
"Sweetheart," she said, offering Natalia the seat.
Natalia took her seat, with a softly-spoken, "Thank you," receiving a tender kiss and an equally quiet, "You're welcome," in return.
Stepping back in, Luciano held Olivia's seat for her. Then, after chatting with Natalia for a few moments, ascertaining her likes and dislikes, he made a few calculated recommendations, before offering to bring them a complimentary serving of freshly-prepared tomato, mozzarella, garlic, and basil bruschetta.
It sounded positively delightful, and they accepted his offer without hesitation. Acknowledging their acceptance, he excused himself, and politely stepped away.
A single perfect yellow rose, delicately tipped in red, lay across Natalia's place setting, and as her eyes fell upon it, her lips curved into a soft smile. Olivia could have filled the balcony to overflowing with a sea of brilliantly multi-colored roses, or flown her to Italy just for dinner. But nothing could have touched Natalia's heart more than finding that single rose, in that exact color, awaiting her at a table in this particular restaurant—and Olivia knew that well. The essence of romance wasn't about grand gestures—it was about the little things, like the touch of her hand at the precise moment Natalia needed it most, or the fact that Olivia heard her, even when she wasn't talking, or the sweetness of a single perfect rose. Natalia picked up the rose, inhaling the scent, as Olivia watched her intently.
Olivia bit her bottom lip, adorably. "You said yellow were your favorite," she said demurely.
"They are," Natalia whispered softly. "Thank you, Olivia. It's beautiful…" She smiled shyly, and asked, "Why the red?"
It was Olivia's turn to offer a quiet smile. "Yellow roses traditionally represent friendship," she answered, "but when tipped in red, they mean the person is falling in love…" she said softly. "So, together, the colors signify the friendship that's become the cornerstone of our relationship, and the love that tips the scales." Her eyes glowed softly with the intensity of that love, and moving closer, she reached up, lightly brushing her fingers against Natalia's cheek, as she nuzzled against her ear. "I've wanted to give you a rose like this for a very long time, Natalia," she whispered, brushing her mouth across Natalia's earlobe.
"You're gonna make me cry," Natalia sniffed. The tears were already brimming on the edge, threatening to spill.
"As long as they're happy tears…" Olivia said softly.
"Very happy," Natalia quietly assured, and she kissed Olivia then, showing her exactly how happy. Her voice was as soft and warm as her eyes, gazing into Olivia's. "I can't believe you brought me to Bella Mia's."
"You know why—don't you?" Olivia asked, already knowing the answer.
Natalia nodded her head, tears still glistening in her eyes, and Olivia moved closer to her again, taking a strong, yet delicate hand into her own. It amazed her, how soft Natalia's hands were, given all her years of manual labor—how such soft hands could possess such strength; but her skin was silky, her touch always tender, and Olivia wanted nothing more than to revel in that touch for the rest of her days. "I'll never forget the sense of yearning in your voice the night you told me about the review you read on this restaurant," Olivia said quietly. She would also never forget the sound of Natalia's voice saying that dinner at Bella Mia's was as close as she could ever even hope to get to Tuscany. Olivia vowed to rectify that notion—someday, when Natalia was ready to accept such extravagances without guilt. "Never before, and not once since, have I heard such desire of anything in your voice—other than my kisses, of course," she grinned, causing Natalia to blush. She nuzzled into that blush, and kissed Natalia's cheek. "You're not the kind of woman who wants or expects luxurious things, so I knew this place had to be important to you. I don't need to know why—unless you want to tell me. It's just a dinner, but I wanted to give you something special—something I knew would be meaningful to you."
"It's not just a dinner, Olivia," Natalia asserted. Her tone was dense with emotion. "It's the fact that you listened—not only to what I said, but to what I didn't say… No one has ever known me the way you do."
Olivia's smile was quiet. "Sometimes I hear the things you don't say, louder than anything else."
"I know—," Natalia whispered. Her fingers tunneled into soft chestnut. "I know…" Her voice was even softer this time; almost inaudible, and Olivia could feel the warmth of Natalia's breath brushing softly against her lips.
The kiss that followed was as soft and slow as any they had shared, and held within it the deliberate intent of conveying the depth of Natalia's love.
Lips parted, and Olivia had been about to say something ridiculously sappy and romantic when they were interrupted by the return of Luciano, the proffered appetizer and a pitcher of ice water in hand. He apologized for interrupting them, as he set the platter of bruschetta on the table, and reached for their water glasses, filling them with care.
"You already had this prepared, didn't you," Olivia said, arching an eyebrow at the young man. It wasn't a question.
"It was in the oven when you arrived," he grinned. "If Papà has taught me anything, it's to anticipate the culinary preferences of good friends."
"Indeed, that is the key to keeping good friends!" came a booming voice from behind Luciano. It was thick with the resonance of old Italia, and emanated from a rather distinguished looking gentleman with the same dark eyes and hair as the younger man, but with the slightest hint of gray at the temples.
Olivia rose from her seat as the man appeared on the balcony, and he greeted her with gusto. "Olivia, Darling! So lovely to see you," he boomed as he embraced her, kissing first one cheek and then the other.
"Giancarlo!" Olivia exclaimed with matching enthusiasm, accepting the customary kisses. "It's lovely to see you, as well. I can't thank you enough for indulging my last minute request," she smiled.
"Ahh… It is my honor to welcome you and your Bella Signora," Giancarlo said sincerely. His hands spoke as eloquently as his voice. "Elegant ambiance is the very essence of romance," he tutored as if he were a master of romance, "So tonight, I open the balcony for your dining pleasure." He had been admittedly surprised the afternoon prior, when she announced her intent to bring a woman for a romantic dinner—he knew her to have been married more than a few times during the years they had been friends. But he was genuine in his enthusiasm when congratulating her on finding someone special to love. His eldest grandniece was a lesbian, after all, and he had long-since come to be a passionate ally to the gay and lesbian community. He was quite forward thinking for a man whose culture had been transplanted from Old World Italia, and Olivia was profoundly grateful for that.
Olivia smiled excitedly, taking him by the hand. "Come, come… meet her…" She turned, and led him toward Natalia.
Natalia rose to her feet, smiling warmly at the gentleman. He was tall, with a broad chest and shoulders that filled out the dark gray double-breasted suit coat with precision—it must have been tailor made, she presumed, and his Italian leather wingtips shined like black onyx. She wondered how he had managed that. She thought him to be in his early-to-mid sixties, which would work with her earlier presumption that the younger man was in his late twenties, or possibly early thirties.
Olivia's smile was bursting with pride when she introduced them. "Giancarlo, I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Natalia Rivera," she said. Her pride reflected in her eyes as she gazed at Natalia. "Natalia, this is Giancarlo Giovanni. He's a dear friend from my early days here in Springfield, and the owner and Chef de Cuisine here at Bella Mia's."
She didn't divulge the fact that their acquaintance had come about when she had lingered one evening after a business dinner, talking with him long into the night of their shared love of the culinary arts. He no longer did the actual cooking—he had trained his two eldest sons and his only daughter to follow in his proverbial footsteps—but Giancarlo was still the creative genius behind their most sumptuous dishes, and had invited Olivia to join him in his kitchen on many occasions over the years. It allowed her the opportunity to indulge her creative side during those years before she bought the Beacon and remodeled the kitchen into an Executive Chef's dream.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Giovanni," Natalia said sweetly, offering her hand.
Giancarlo smiled and took her hand, kissing it like a delicate flower. "The pleasure is all mine, to be sure, Ms. Rivera," he said warmly. "And please, call me Giancarlo," he insisted.
"Only if you'll call me Natalia," she smiled in response.
He nodded his head, as he clasped his hands behind his back. "As you wish..."
Helping them back into their seats, he clapped his hands together, rubbing them vigorously. "Now… Luciano will be taking care of you this evening—a personal favor to me," he announced robustly. Giancarlo's youngest son hadn't been gifted with his culinary talents, but he was wonderful with people, and thus, had risen to second in command at the restaurant. Luciano was proud of the distinction, but never haughty, and he made it a practice to take care of his father's friends personally. It was just good manners, after all. "And I will be your Chef, creating for you whatever culinary indulgences your hearts desire." His hand gestures were as boisterous as his tone, but his eyes were soft and filled with emotion as he spoke to them, giving him a strong, yet warm and inviting presence.
"We are most honored to dine at your table, Giancarlo," Olivia said warmly. The reverence in her voice was unmistakable.
"Excellent," he declared with the clasping of his hands together. "And what might I create for you this evening?"
Natalia's searching eyes caught Olivia's attention, and she quickly swept in to rescue her. "Giancarlo is an absolute genius in the kitchen," she smiled. "His creations are spontaneous, tailored to your specific tastes. Just give him a general idea of what you might like, and he'll create a culinary masterpiece for you." Her voice sounded almost childlike in its mysticism.
"Indeed," Giancarlo interjected. "Luciano conveyed your preferences to me—might I offer some suggestions based upon those?"
"Please—" Natalia welcomed his input. This was certainly a new and unexpected experience for her. The way he described the amalgam of robust aromas and flavors made her mouth water in anticipation, as she listened intently to his recommendations; and once finished, she felt satisfied that her choices were solid.
Olivia left her entrée to Giancarlo's discretion, as she knew this would both flatter and please him greatly. He knew her tastes as well as her dietary restrictions, and she eagerly anticipated whatever epicurean delight he might bestow upon her. She ordered a bottle of wine that sounded ghastly expensive to Natalia, and as the men took their leave, they returned to companionable conversation.
"So there are no menus." Natalia attempted to process this new concept.
"No—there are," Olivia said casually, "just not for us."
"We're special, huh," Natalia smiled. It wasn't a question. "Giancarlo seems quite fond of you."
It was Olivia's turn to smile. She nodded her head. "The feeling is mutual. He's a wonderful man," she declared.
"He seems like it," Natalia agreed. "How did you meet him? Did he work at the Beacon?"
"Oh, heavens, no—I could never even hope to land a chef of his caliber for the Beacon. Actually I met him when I brought some potential clients here for dinner one evening. Back when I was working for Lewis Construction," she explained. "After dinner, Giancarlo was making his rounds, checking in with his guests, and I complimented him on the cuisine. The group I was meeting with excused themselves and headed back to the Beacon, and he and I ended up chatting well into the night about international fare. He's traveled quite extensively, as have I, and we found that we had a great deal in common in that regard. And he's actually the reason we have Jacques at the Beacon. Giancarlo found him working at a bistro in Paris, and realized that his talents were being wasted. So he brought him here, trained him, and—"
"And sicced him on us?" Natalia's expression at the mention of the ill-tempered chef drew a hearty laugh from Olivia. Very few people garnered such an adverse response from Natalia.
"I know Jacques can be a bit cantankerous, but he's a damned fine chef," Olivia asserted.
"Well, he needs to work on his people skills," Natalia countered. "That's all I'm saying…"
"I'm sure with a little time, you'll help him see that," Olivia said with certainty, as she squeezed Natalia's hand. "Look at the miracle you've brought about with me," she grinned. "I didn't bark at anyone all day." She sounded quite pleased with herself.
"That's because we only worked half the day," Natalia said wryly.
Olivia's face held an expression of mock indignation, which made Natalia laugh.
"Oh, you just hush up and eat," Olivia fussed, waving a hand over their appetizer. "The bruschetta is getting cold."
The truth of the matter was, it had already cooled, but it was a smooth segue to another topic of conversation. And as Natalia took her first bite of the bruschetta, moaning at the sheer magnificence of the flavors melding in her mouth, Olivia felt quite proud of herself for having called Giancarlo to host the dinner portion of their evening.
They were laughing together about some of the rather perceptive observations Emma had made over the weekend, when their salads arrived, and the conversation continued, as Luciano took his leave.
"I think Emma knew we belonged together long before we did," Natalia asserted. She nibbled on a bite of her salad, and waited for Olivia's response.
"She's quite the precocious child, isn't she," Olivia said, more statement than question, as she grinned and shook her head in wonder.
"She gets that from you, y'know." Natalia's grin was teasing, but her tone held a hint of sincerity, as she leaned in, kissing Olivia's cheek. "She's intelligent, articulate, and incredibly insightful, just like her amazing Mommy."
Olivia's cheeks flushed, and she cleared her throat. "You're really good for my ego." Her tone was almost bashful. "Some would say that's the last thing I need." The bashfulness was replaced by humor.
"Those 'some' would be wrong," Natalia said resolutely. "I see through all the bluster and bravado, directly into the heart of the woman."
"I'm glad," Olivia said simply, finally taking a bite of her salad. She didn't have to ask how long she had been so transparent to Natalia—she knew the answer was a resounding "always," and that made her heart skip a beat.
The wobbly smile and slight hint of tears told Natalia how deeply her words had moved the hotelier. She reached over, squeezing Olivia's hand. "I'm glad, too," was all she said, and keeping her grasp on Olivia's hand, she turned her attention back to her salad.
"So tell me more about your family," Olivia prompted. They had finished their salads and their entrées had just been served. Natalia's "Tagliata Toscana Al Rosmarino" as Giancarlo had announced so eloquently, as he presented the Tuscan grilled steak and potatoes with rosemary and crushed garlic, looked simply delectable.
"What would you like to know?" Natalia countered; allowing Olivia to take control of the conversation. She thought it might be easier to navigate if she weren't responsible for minding the course. She bit into her steak—it was positively succulent, grilled to perfection, and she couldn't help halting Olivia's response for a moment while she raved.
Olivia smiled, pleased that Natalia found the creation to her liking. She told her so; then said, "So Nastassia is physically your mirror image… Is that true of your personalities, too?"
Natalia took a sip of her wine. "Mmm… yeah, for the most part." Her head was nodding in a confirmatory manner. "I was always the quiet one; kinda shy. She's really outgoing, extroverted. She's a lot like you, actually," she observed. Her expression turned contemplative. "Maybe that's why I couldn't help loving you, even when I didn't really like you all that much…"
"I'll try to take that as a compliment." Olivia's tone was wry, but the glass of wine couldn't cloak the grin on her lips.
"You should," Natalia smiled.
Natalia's sharp wit drew an appreciative laugh from Olivia. "What was it like having older brothers?" she asked, setting her wine glass back down on the table.
"Oh, I don't know… they were typical of older brothers, I suppose. They were never really mean to us, but they sure picked on us a lot," Natalia said, rolling her eyes. "Tony was always very headstrong and opinionated, like my father. They probably would've butted heads all the time if my father hadn't demanded total respect," she surmised. "Dante was literally his polar opposite. He was funny and sweet, and he played with us when we were little. He has the most charming smile—dimples and all," she recalled fondly. "They threatened every boy in the neighborhood, even the ones who never paid a moment's attention to us," she laughed, shaking her head. "Poor Nicky… It's probably a good thing he disappeared before they found out I was pregnant."
While Natalia answered, Olivia took a bite of her Tuscan roasted chicken—Giancarlo had expressed a fancy Italian name for Olivia's dish, as well, but Natalia couldn't remember it.
Regardless, the mixture of ingredients in the stuffing—Swiss chard, ricotta and parmesan cheeses, couscous, capers and sun-dried tomatoes with a twist of lemon—all of which lay just beneath the skin, melded together creating a symphony of flavors that burst to life in Olivia's mouth, singing to her palate of Italia.
The food was absolutely divine, but it was Natalia who held her rapt attention. She chuckled at the comment. "Probably," she grinned; amused by this glimpse at Natalia's brothers. "How much older are they?"
"Tony was five, and Dante was three when we were born," Natalia answered. "Sierra came along when Nastassia and I were five, and Christi when we were nine."
"Wow," Olivia interjected. "So there's quite an age gap between Tony and Christi," she observed.
"Yeah," Natalia confirmed with the nod of her head. "Almost fifteen years. There was another baby between Sierra and Christi, but she was born too early, and didn't survive," she shared, sadness in her tone. "Mama cried for months and months. I don't remember her stopping until she got pregnant with Christi. And even then, she was never really the same."
"That must've been really difficult for her," Olivia empathized. "And probably really sad and confusing for all of you."
"Yeah," Natalia sighed, "Mama would never talk about that baby, so we never really knew what happened." She was quiet for a moment, reflective even; and then she willfully brushed the melancholy away, smiling fondly at the memory of her youngest sibling. "Christi was such a little doll. I remember Nastassia and I played dress-up with her; pretended she was our baby. She was the cutest baby ever," she recalled, nostalgia in her tone.
Olivia shook her head in disagreement, as she touched one of Natalia's dimples with her finger. "Something tells me you were the cutest baby ever," she whispered, replacing that finger with her lips, kissing that dimple thoroughly.
"You're biased, Honey," Natalia laughed, wrapping her arms around Olivia's neck, kissing her.
"Perhaps—," Olivia conceded with a shrug of her shoulders, "but it only stands to reason that you were the cutest baby ever, because you're the most beautiful woman I've ever known," she said softly. Smiling at her, Olivia slowly traced the back of her index finger along the soft contours of Natalia's face, watching as the candlelight flickered in those dark eyes. "I can't even fathom anyone else being as beautiful as you," she whispered.
Natalia offered Olivia a shy smile. "Are you just trying to score points?" she teased, her cheeks coloring again.
"Is it working?" Olivia asked; mischief dancing in liquid jade.
"Hardly," Natalia answered drolly.
"Then, nope, I'm not lookin' to score any points here," Olivia denied.
An eyebrow vaulted. "What are you lookin' to do?"
"Nothing—," Olivia whispered, as she swept dark tendrils from Natalia's face. "I just know true beauty when I see it. I've always thought God broke the mold when He created you," she said softly.
"Somehow I doubt that thought always lacked cynicism," Natalia said wryly.
Olivia laughed, conceding the point—sometimes it had been thought in exasperation. "But I did, in fact, think He broke the mold," she reiterated, "And now you're tellin' me there are two of you?" The tone in her voice was one of sheer disbelief. "Can't say as I blame Him though, for wanting two such perfect beauties; one for me, and one to keep for Himself, but—"
"Something tells me you'd make a first-rate snake-charmer," Natalia interrupted with a grin.
Olivia's mouth gaped open, and an exasperated grunt spilled out. "I'm wounded," she declared; dramatically thumping her hands against her chest, as if to protect her heart.
"What you are, is a shameless flirt," Natalia playfully accused.
"You got me there," Olivia laughed, "but… it's different with you, Natalia," she declared, her expression turning serious, as she searched those dark eyes. "With you, I'm just… I'm learning to say out loud, the things I've been forced to keep to myself all these months. You have no idea how amazing it feels to finally be able to tell you how beautiful you are," she whispered, her fingers tangling in raven tresses, as her lips met softly with Natalia's again. "God, you're so beautiful…"
The whispered compliments made Natalia feel cherished, but also a bit self-conscious. She wasn't accustomed to anyone lavishing such attention upon her. Attempting to dissuade any further utterances of a similar nature, she smiled against Olivia's mouth as they kissed. "Well, you'd better not ever mistake her for me," she teased, knowing the sheer implausibility of such an occurrence. "I'll kick both your asses, just like I did Nicky's," she warned.
Olivia released her from the kiss with a laugh. "Gus couldn't tell the two of you apart?"
"Let's just say… he learned the difference really quickly," Natalia laughed.
"Natalia! What did you do to him?" Olivia's eyes widened, in shock and awe, drawing another laugh from Natalia.
"Nastassia slapped him, and I, well… I kicked him somewhere he didn't soon forget," Natalia grinned. "He was a lot more careful about sneaking kisses after that," she said proudly.
"I'll bet," Olivia laughed. "Poor guy," she empathized.
"I know, right?" Natalia chuckled. "Believe me, he didn't beg for sex for a quite while after that," she grinned.
"I can't imagine why," Olivia said wryly.
"Probably because he didn't know what he was missing yet."
Natalia rolled her eyes, and Olivia laughed with her. "Ah… pre first-time sex," she said knowingly.
"Exactly."
As their laughter slowly waned, Natalia released a pensive sigh. "I probably shouldn't have been so hard on him," she admitted. "I mean, we were at school, so we were wearing uniforms; and even our parents couldn't tell us apart sometimes. From the time we were babies, they color-coded us to keep from getting us confused," she laughed.
Olivia's face held a curious and slightly indignant expression. "Color-coded you?" Who ever heard of such a thing!
"Yeah," Natalia chuckled, shaking her head. "I was blue and Nastassia was red. All of our clothes were marked with tiny knots of sewing thread on the tags or in the hems, and… Mama used permanent magic marker to put corresponding dots on our right big toes," she explained.
"And that worked?" Olivia sounded incredulous.
"Well… it did until we got a little older, and figured out that if we scrubbed hard enough, the markings would come off." Natalia grinned triumphantly. "Eventually we realized that permanent wasn't really permanent, which was why Mama had to keep re-marking us every few days. So we eliminated the remnants of marker, and switched up our clothes so we both had red and blue dots. It drove Mama crazy for days every time we did that to her," she laughed.
A proud grin trickled across Olivia's face. "See… I told ya there was a little bit of the devil in you," she winked.
"Not gonna lie," Natalia chuckled, "the two of us were quite a force when we put our devilish little heads together."
Olivia laughed. "Sounds like the two of you were quite a handful," she observed.
"Oh, yeah," Natalia chortled, "What one of us wasn't thinking about, the other was already doing."
"Your poor Mother," Olivia chuckled.
"I know, right?" Natalia grinned. Her heart felt light. God, it felt good to reminisce about Nastassia. She hadn't told a soul about her family in nearly twenty years. "And remember, she had four other children to chase after; and believe me, my Father was no help."
The expression on Olivia's face was priceless. "I can't even imagine—"
"What? You don't think you could handle two Emma's, and four other little ones running around?" Natalia laughed.
"Shoot me now," Olivia said, feigning exasperation.
Natalia just laughed.
"So… why wasn't your Father a help to her?" Olivia asked, curious. She knew nothing of the man really, but it seemed incongruent with her own experience, given that her own father had been such a vital part of her daily life until his untimely death.
Natalia shrugged her shoulders. "That's just the way it is in my culture," she answered. "Men consider looking after the children to be 'women's work', just like keeping the house, cooking, you know, domestic things," she explained.
Olivia was annoyed by the notion. It sounded like indentured servitude to her. It was one thing to pay someone to do those things—that was a business contract of sorts; but to have it demanded or even expected simply because one was married and female, well, that just didn't set well with her. "And what is considered 'men's work'?" she asked, tight-lipped, as she willfully stifled her anger.
A soft smile spread across Natalia's face. She knew Olivia was angered by the notion. Olivia was good at hiding her emotions, but not good enough to hide them from her. "It's a man's responsibility to be the head of the family, and to work to support his wife and children, and even his parents, if necessary," she explained.
"So… how do gender roles work with us?" Olivia wondered aloud.
"I don't know," Natalia admitted, with the shrug of one shoulder, "but we seem to have worked it out without even thinking about it," she pointed out.
"I think we can do better," Olivia declared. She hated the thought of Natalia taking on the role of the proverbial housewife. Yes, Olivia helped with the laundry and dishes. Sometimes. But this conversation made her realize that she needed to do far more than that; and a lot more often.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I don't ever want you to feel like it's your duty to take care of Emma and me, or to do all the household chores on your own," Olivia answered.
Natalia opened her mouth to protest, but Olivia stopped her with the raising of one finger. Her mouth clamped shut, and she listened.
"You're so amazing, Natalia. You anticipate my every need, at home as well as at work. Sometimes I haven't even realized what I need yet, and you're already there, solving my dilemma. I love that about you," Olivia said sincerely. "But I don't ever want you to feel as though the things you do for me and for Emma are expected."
"Olivia, I work for you," Natalia said, stating the obvious. "Of course you expect things of me."
"Well, yeah, I expect you to do your job, but…" Olivia struggled to find the words. She didn't need a maid or a housewife; but she certainly couldn't say that—not without sounding like an elitist bitch. There was nothing wrong with being either of those things; but Natalia was so much more. She always had been, and Olivia wanted her to know that; but she didn't want to hurt her or demean the jobs Natalia had held in the past, or the loving things she did for them at home. "Look, I want us to be equal partners, Natalia—both at home and at work. I want you to expect things of me, too. I want you to expect that I'll treat you with respect." She needed Natalia to really know that, especially after the way she had behaved with Josh the night previous. "I want you to expect me to give back to you, as much as I receive. I want you to expect me to pull my own weight at home, as much as I do at the office. I want you to expect me to pick up my own dirty socks, and yell at me if I don't; instead of just picking them up for me." The teasing smile on Olivia's lips warmed Natalia from the inside out.
"Love means never yelling about dirty socks, Olivia." Natalia's voice was soft and playful, as she grinned. "Didn't you know that?"
Olivia's smile was slightly demure, as she glanced at Natalia through thick brown lashes. "So… every time you picked up my dirty socks, you were telling me you loved me?"
"That's exactly what I was telling you." Natalia's voice was soft and warm, as she gently touched Olivia's cheek.
"You must love me an awful lot," Olivia grinned.
"More than you can even imagine." Natalia sealed her declaration with a slow, meaningful kiss.
"Okay, fess up… What other mischief did the two of you get into?" They had been laughing and talking about Natalia and Nastassia's antics for the better part of an hour, as they lingered over wine and dinner. Natalia regaled Olivia with a litany of asinine activities—all of them dreamed up by Nastassia.
An impromptu game of ice hockey on a frozen swimming pool when they were eight—weren't there laws about draining or covering those up? The ice cracked, Natalia slipped and busted her lower lip open. It's a damned good thing they hadn't fallen through!
Next in line was a story about a white cat and blue food coloring—they wanted to know what would happen, with just a few tiny drops… They were seven, and they had blue fingers for a week. The kids at school called them the Smurf Twins for weeks thereafter. The ensuing bath for said kitty was even more comical, with the exception of poor Natalia and her tangle with kitty's claws—that's where she'd earned the little scar that still graced her torso, just underneath what was now her right breast. Olivia was certainly looking forward to kissing it, and making it all better.
The scar on Natalia's left knee came from a tangle with a barbed-wire fence when they were twelve, and running away a group of neighborhood boys—it had been Nastassia's brilliant idea to pummel the boys with water balloons from the roof of their friend Kaleigh's house. She hadn't thought it through enough to realize that eventually, they would have to go home…
And then there was something about a jump rope, a Big Wheel, a huge hill, and Natalia gasping for air near the bottom, when the jump rope tangled around the spoke, dragging her cinched neck up against it—they were five, and Natalia would have choked to death had Dante not come to her rescue.
Oh, but the Pièce de résistance came one sultry Fourth of July evening, when they were ten—an entire strip of Ladyfinger firecrackers being ignited under Abuela's lawn chair, as they sat in their front yard, waiting for darkness to shroud them and the neighborhood fireworks display to commence. It nearly gave the poor old woman a heart attack, causing her to fall out of her chair—and it garnered Natalia a burned forefinger and thumb, and two mischievous little girls the spanking of a lifetime. That had been yet another of Nastassia's brilliant ideas, and true to form, it had ended with Natalia being injured. It had taken Natalia until this recounting of their antics to realize the pattern, and she and Olivia shared a good laugh about it.
In answer to Olivia's question about their "other mischief," Natalia confessed, "Oh, we took each other's tests all the time."
"Did you really?" Olivia couldn't believe Natalia would do such a thing.
"Yeah…" Natalia laughed. "Nastassia is way better at science than I am, and I'm much better at history, so in junior high and high school we traded off on test days. Same with math and English. I'm much better at writing and grammar than she is, but she's all over geometry; which I never understood. It helped out a lot that we wore uniforms, and that the administration purposely separated us in our classes. We had mostly the same teachers, just different hours. I guess they were afraid we would torment the teachers if we were together," she laughed. "If they'd been smart, they would've put us in the same classes, so we couldn't trade off."
Olivia laughed with her at the irony of the administration's failed plan. "Did you ever get caught?" she asked.
"No. Not while I was still in school. We just made sure not to talk in class on test days. Our friends would've known the difference." Natalia grinned, drawing a smile from Olivia. "But I imagine our History and English teachers were a bit baffled by her slumping grades during junior year," she answered honestly. "We did get suspended after that incident with Nicky, though," she admitted. "He would've been suspended right along with us if he'd been a student there. Instead, he was forcefully removed from the premises, and threatened with arrest if he ever returned. He never did."
"Wow, that seems harsh," Olivia opined.
"Not for Catholic school," Natalia reported. "We had a 'three foot' rule, meaning no physical contact whatsoever," she explained. "And kissing definitely broke that rule."
"Wait a minute," Olivia said, halting the conversation with the raising of her hand, "You went to Catholic school?"
Taking a sip of her wine, Natalia nodded. "Mmm, yeah, my father wouldn't have it any other way."
"So… your father put six kids through private school, working as an auto mechanic?" Olivia remembered Natalia mentioning something about growing up around motor oil and exhaust fumes.
"Yeah, money was tight growing up, but my parents sacrificed other things, because a Catholic education was so important to them," Natalia explained.
"I know what it cost to put one kid in private school, so I can't even fathom how they could afford it," Olivia said, baffled.
"Well, I can guarantee you the tuition at St. Joseph's was way cheaper than Lincoln Prep. Plus, we were members at the Parish, and there was a discount for multiple kids, so by the time Sierra went to kindergarten, there were enough of us that she was free," Natalia grinned.
Olivia chuckled. "Seriously?"
"Yeah," Natalia laughed. "They had to reevaluate the rules when my friend Kaleigh's family managed to have more kids that were free than they did paid," she grinned. "Something about the law of diminishing returns…"
Olivia laughed, and considered the applicability of that particular law of economics. "Yeah, that fits, at least on a theoretical level," she agreed.
"It was easier to tell us apart away from school—especially once we got older. Nastassia was always more fashionable than me. Perfect hair, perfect nails, the perfect outfit; she had it all. She spent all of her babysitting money on clothes and shoes and fashion magazines," Natalia reported. "I never cared about any of that. I was happy in a pair of old jeans and my Cubs jersey."
A deliberate eyebrow arched in interest. "Any chance I might catch a glimpse of you in that jersey?" Olivia's voice was low, almost sultry, as those piercing jade eyes raked over Natalia's body. The overall effect of that hedonistic gaze sent waves of heat coursing through Natalia's veins.
"If you play your cards right…" Natalia surprised herself when the low, sultry cadence of her voice matched Olivia's.
Olivia's body pulsed in response. Every single nerve ending hoped Natalia would wear that jersey—and nothing else—to bed for her someday. "I'm nothing, if not a master with a deck of cards," she intoned, her index finger lightly teasing the palm of Natalia's upturned hand. Two could definitely play at this game.
Natalia cleared her throat and shifted in her seat, drawing a grin from Olivia. "Am I making you nervous?" The flirtation in her tone was palpable.
"Umm… nervous isn't exactly what I'd call it." Natalia took another sip of her wine, but it only served to make her body warmer. She mumbled something in Spanish under her breath, and forced her thoughts to the evening's initial wine tasting.
Olivia had been so proud of her. She challenged Natalia to take what she had learned, and tell her how the wine would taste before sampling it. Natalia checked the color—it was dark, but not as deep as the wine they had shared the evening prior. It smelled of oak and sandalwood, and something fruity—cherry, perhaps? And it was heavy, it clung to the glass when she swirled it, though not as ardently. Based upon her observations, she had surmised that it would be smooth, full-bodied, but not as heavy as the previous wine, and it would be slightly fruity. Olivia had rewarded her genius with fervent praise and an absolutely breath-stealing kiss.
Olivia could see Natalia's pulse throbbing in her neck. "Too much?" she posited, breaking into Natalia's thoughts. "Wanna change the subject?"
"Please—"
Natalia's voice sounded almost desperate, and Olivia quickly shifted gears, easing her distress. "The other night, when you said you wanted to share everything with me… What does everything entail?"
As easy as that, the conversation turned to more romantic themes then, as they talked of their hopes and dreams for the future.
Natalia smiled softly at Olivia, as her dark gaze turned contemplative. "I want so many things for us, Liv," she whispered. "I want family barbecues and picnics in the park, sometimes with our children, and… sometimes alone…" she grinned. The suggestion in her voice was clear. "I want quiet nights in front of the fire; just you and me and a bottle of wine. I wanna fight with you, because a positive outcome will make us stronger, regardless of the issue. And I wanna fight for us, because we're worth the effort. I want… candlelight dinners just like this one—but they don't have to be in a fancy restaurant, our own kitchen would be just as perfect," she clarified. "And I want romantic walks in the moonlight… and I wanna spend all evening kissing you goodnight, before I take you to bed, and make love with you until we fall asleep in one another's arms…"
"You want all that, do ya?" Olivia's eyebrow was arched, and that smile teased at the corners of her mouth.
"I do," Natalia quietly confirmed; tracing Olivia's lower lip with her fingertip. She knew it all sounded ridiculously sappy, but she didn't care. "And I know you're scared, Liv. I am, too… but I want you… I wanna share everything with you—including my body." It wasn't the first time she had confessed such desire, but it was the first time she had worded it so bluntly, and the blatant honesty of it scared her a little more than she thought it would.
Olivia nodded her head timidly. "I'm not just scared, Natalia. I'm completely terrified," she confessed; a nervous laugh escaping her lungs. "But I know that I love you, and—"
Natalia halted her words with the pressing of two fingers against Olivia's lips. "Stop, okay?" she said softly. "I have an idea…"
"What's that?" Olivia asked, sounding hopeful.
"What do you say we just… we take sex completely off the table," Natalia suggested.
Looking at Natalia like she had three heads, Olivia blinked twice. "What?" Oh, that was not what she was going for at all!
"Just hear me out, okay?" Natalia said, trying to sound reassuring.
Slack-jawed, Olivia nodded her agreement.
"Honestly, Honey, I think we're both expending way too much energy thinking about it," Natalia said bluntly. "Wondering when it will happen, making excuses when we're in the moment, and one of us pulls back." She didn't mention that it was invariably Olivia who pulled back—placing blame wouldn't help either of them. Besides, she had to admit that if Olivia hadn't stopped the few times they had come close, she might have been the one pulling back, because she was equally as scared—just for different reasons, she surmised. "I just… I think we should make an agreement right now, that it's okay if we stop, whenever we stop, and that neither of us has to apologize or make excuses. And maybe we could even agree that we won't, until you move into my room," she proposed.
"You mean, no pressure," Olivia interpreted, sounding tremendously relieved.
"No pressure," Natalia confirmed. "We agreed you wouldn't move into my room until we had furniture that neither of us had ever shared with anyone else, right?"
Olivia nodded. "Yes."
"And you're okay with that?"
Catching Natalia's gaze, Olivia bit her bottom lip, adorably. She couldn't believe that she had agreed to that, but she wouldn't take back her word. "I have to be honest with you, Natalia—I loved waking up with you in my arms this morning," she said softly, remembering how beautiful Natalia had looked in the early morning light, "but yes, I can live with our agreement."
Natalia smiled at Olivia's skillful manipulation of the question. The expression on Olivia's face told Natalia she wasn't exactly okay with the arrangement, but she was too honorable to go back on her word. Natalia would never take that away from her. She had a fleeting thought that perhaps they could just sleep on the sofa, before her mouth started producing words again. "So we'll have a couple of months where there's no pressure at all," she reasoned. "And maybe that'll give us both time to work through our fears."
"I could use some time for that," Olivia admitted, almost bashfully.
"So it sounds like a good plan?" Natalia sought Olivia's agreement.
"Yeah, it does…" Olivia quietly agreed; eyes tracing Natalia's face again. She smiled. "Natalia?"
"Yeah?"
"Maybe we could just sleep on the sofa?" Olivia's voice was cautiously hopeful.
Natalia just laughed. Great minds and all…
"So… what else do you wanna share with me?" Olivia was asking, when Luciano arrived with two dishes of spumoni and dessert spoons. They thanked him kindly, and Olivia's attention turned back to Natalia as she awaited an answer.
"I want babies with you…" Natalia's tone was forthright.
"Babies?" Olivia choked on a mouthful of ice cream. She swallowed. Hard. "You want… babies? With me?" Her voice was filled with skepticism.
Noting the change in Olivia's demeanor, Natalia propped her chin on her right elbow; peering into the hotelier's eyes. "Of course I want babies with you. Someday," she quietly reiterated. "Why wouldn't I?" she asked; sounding confused.
"I just… I—" Olivia sighed; her head swimming with uncertainty.
"Olivia, what's wrong?" Natalia quietly asked; voice filled with concern, as she lightly traced a finger along the outline of her partner's face. "Talk to me…"
Olivia drew in a deep breath, as she attempted to gather her scattered thoughts; then exhaled slowly. "With Emma… for the first time in my life, I managed to do something completely right," she quietly explained; "and I'm just… I'm afraid I won't get that lucky twice in a lifetime."
Natalia gently cupped Olivia's cheek, as she searched familiar eyes now shadowed with fear and uncertainty. "You are a wonderful mother, Olivia," she declared. "Not just to Emma, but to Ava, too. And you've been amazing with Rafe—all the things you've done to help him, and the way you've taken care of me, so that I could be there for him."
"I love Rafe, Natalia," Olivia declared. "Not only because he belongs to you and Gus, but because he's a good kid. He loves Emma like a little sister, and he's good to her. Sure, he's made his share of mistakes—but who hasn't?" she asked rhetorically; remembering all the misdeeds of her own past. "I know once we get him out of that place, he'll work hard at becoming the kind of man his father would be proud of, and I know he'll succeed, with our love and support."
"And that, Olivia Spencer, is exactly why I want to have babies with you," Natalia whispered.
"Why?" Olivia inquired; smiling softly at the raven haired beauty beside her.
"Because even though you don't really ascribe to my beliefs, you understand the healing power of forgiveness, faith, and redemption," Natalia elucidated. "While you don't excuse his actions, you're willing to look beyond the mistakes Rafe made, to see the vulnerability of the boy who made them, and you have faith in his ability to change for the better. That's what good mothers do, Olivia. They love unconditionally; while they encourage, and sometimes even demand, positive change."
"Thank you," Olivia whispered sincerely; her eyes welling up with tears. She cleared her throat, smiling at Natalia. "So… tell me about these babies you want us to have," she encouraged. "How many do you want? Do you want boys or girls?"
Natalia sifted her fingers through Olivia's soft chestnut locks. "Well… we have a lot of rooms around the farmhouse that need filling." She smiled, even as Olivia groaned. "And I would love to have another little girl—one who looks exactly like you."
"Uh-uh," Olivia disagreed, shaking her head, "she has to look just like you." She touched Natalia's cheek with her finger. "With beautiful dark brown eyes, and baby dimples."
"You like my dimples." It wasn't a question.
Olivia leaned closer. "I love your dimples." Her finger under Natalia's chin guided a perfect dimple closer, and she kissed it, teasing it with her tongue. And then she drew bow-like lips to her for a kiss, as well.
When their kiss ended, Natalia smiled at her. "I've shared all of my dreams for us with you…" she quietly noted. "Now it's your turn…" she prodded. "What are the rest of your dreams for us, Olivia?"
Olivia contemplated the question for a moment; then smiled softly. "I want… to take you on romantic dates, and I wanna lie in bed, holding you after we make love, talking about our day, or making plans for our future. I want to hold you close when you dream… and even closer if you ever have reason to cry. I want to take you on romantic vacations and pamper you until you're spoiled. And… I wanna bake cookies with you," she laughed softly, the tips of her lips forming that barely-there smile; eliciting a soft smile from Natalia in return. "I want to build snowmen… I mean, snowwomen," she grinned, "with you and our children, and then drink hot cocoa by the fire in the winter, just like we did with Emma the other day, and… I want to take our family fishing at the pond in the springtime and swimming in the ocean in the summer, or for hikes in the mountains in the fall…"
"Hiking? Fishing?"
"Yeah. Hiking and Fishing," Olivia repeated enthusiastically.
"I didn't know you were such a nature girl," Natalia teased. "I just… I really had no idea you were like, the outdoors type. I didn't know—"
"I'm indoor-outdoor. Olivia Spencer: Woman for All Seasons," Olivia boasted playfully; puffing out her chest in mock pride. "Is that a problem?"
"No—," Natalia grinned, "I kinda like it."
A slow smile crept across Olivia's lips. "Good," she announced, "Because there's so much I want to show you. I want to share San Cristobel with you, and I want…" She was getting too far ahead of herself.
"You want what, Olivia?"
"Nothing—," Olivia exhaled; shadows brushing across jade, as she attempted to sweep the thought from her mind.
"It's not nothing," Natalia gently argued. "Those expressive eyes of yours always give you away."
Olivia smiled softly. "You know me too well," she whispered fondly.
Natalia smiled and nodded her head in agreement. "So spill it, Spencer," she said. Her tone was teasing; her intent, serious.
"I—um—I want… to marry you there… in paradise."
"You… you want to marry me?" It made Natalia happier than she ever could've imagined, just knowing that Olivia wanted to share that commitment with her.
"Someday, when you're ready…" Olivia's eyes danced with the joyous anticipation of it all. She never thought she would want to be married again, but Emma's comment that afternoon made her see that marrying Natalia was exactly what she wanted. Someday—when they were both ready.
"And when is it that I'll be ready?" Natalia's tone was both cautious and curious.
"When Rafe accepts us," Olivia said forthrightly.
Natalia smiled and nodded her head in understanding. Olivia knew her far too well, and she loved it. "Sunday is a food day at the prison," she reported. "I'm thinking that will be a good time to tell him."
Olivia's smile radiated into her eyes. Natalia was going to tell him! "So, what, you're gonna ply him with his favorite foods, and then drop the bomb?" Her tone was light and playful, but the conjecture was serious.
"That about sums it up," Natalia chuckled. "He'll be relaxed and in a good mood," she reasoned.
"That's kinda devious," Olivia grinned. "I like it!"
Natalia laughed. "I'm glad you appreciate my devious side."
"Sweetheart, I appreciate all your sides." Olivia's voice held its usual flirtatiousness.
"Sweet-talker." Natalia's cheeks flushed, drawing a laugh from Olivia.
"I thought maybe you and Emma could go with me…" Natalia's suggestion was tentative, and she watched Olivia with measured intent as she waited for a response.
"Oh!" Olivia exclaimed, surprised by the request, though not unpleasantly. "Well… I think that's a wonderful idea."
"I think it'll be helpful, anyway," Natalia shrugged. "I hold no illusions that my son will be completely accepting of us—at least not right from the start," she said honestly.
"So… he'll be less likely to cause a scene if Emma is there?" Olivia postulated.
"Well, yes, but that's not my reasoning," Natalia replied. "I was thinking more along the lines of Emma bridging the gap. You know… she lives with us, and she sees how we are together. Maybe if Rafe sees how accepting she is of us, and how excited she is that we're together, it'll help open him up to the possibility."
"So you're really gonna tell him. In like, three days." Olivia's tone was confirmatory, rather than questioning.
"I'm really gonna tell him, Olivia," Natalia assured. She reached out, tipping Olivia's chin, drawing liquid jade into her gaze. "I won't hide what I feel for you. Not from anyone, and especially not from Rafe. He won't like it at first, but the sooner he knows, the sooner he'll accept us." She was confident of that fact.
"And in the meantime?"
"In the meantime, I intend to move forward, and share my life with you," Natalia declared. Her steadfast gaze never left Olivia's. "I love my son, and I'll be there for him to help him work through his feelings about us, but I won't let him dictate my life for me."
Olivia felt the urge to pinch herself. "You just made me the happiest woman on the planet."
Natalia's smile was effervescent, as Olivia leaned in to kiss her again.
TBC…
Next Up: Chapter 7.3 – The Outing—Wonderful Surprise