Page 116 of Mafia Darling

As Marco started to stand from his chair, I put my hand up. “Wait,” I mouthed and hid my smile.

A few seconds later my office door opened and the beautiful face of my two-year-old daughter, Noemi, appeared. She strode in like she was in charge. “Papà! Zio Marco! Mamma says it is time to come.”

I pushed back from the desk and patted to my lap. “Polpetta! I’ve been waiting for you. Come, give me hugs and kisses.”

“Ah, me first!” Marco scooped up my daughter before she could get to the desk and spun her around. She squealed with delight, her short blonde curls flying.

When he set her on her feet, she grinned and wobbled. “I’m dizzy.”

I gave her a second to get her bearings. “Now may I have my hugs and kisses?”

She ran right over and jumped on me, squirming onto my lap. Noemi was aggressive and energetic, just like her brother. And her mother, now that I thought about it.

Noemi stood on my thighs as her little arms wrapped around my neck. My heart turned over as she pressed her lips to my cheek. “There,” she announced. “Is that enough?”

“For now,” I told her. Then I held her hands and let her lean back, one of our favorite games.

“Are you working?” she asked.

“Yes, of course.”

“Mamma said it’s time to come.”

“All right, but only if you lead the way.”

Holding her hands, I stood and let her dangle before swinging her side to side. She begged me to do it again, but I set her down instead. “Later. Right now you have to help Marco and I find everyone.”

“Follow me!” She ran out of the room, expecting us to keep up with her.

“You are in for years of heartache with that one, cugino,” Marco said, chuckling as we walked into the corridor together. “She is going to give you gray hair.”

“I already have gray hair.” A tiny bit on my temples, something my wife liked very much.

“More gray hair, then.”

We headed toward the stables, Noemi charging along the path in front of us in the afternoon sun. Every now and again, she turned around to ensure we were following as she galloped along. Beside the paddock, a long table had been set up, colorful decorations along the fence and chair backs. A group of people stood by the table, but my eyes landed on my wife first.

Every time I saw her, it was like a punch to the gut. Dio santo, she was gorgeous, her blonde hair wild in the breeze, a long flowing dress on. I bet she smelled like my land and the March sunshine.

Terra e sole.

“Papà! Hurry,” Noemi called. “Cake!”

A little boy climbed the wooden fence, jumped off the top, and landed into a pile of hay. I sighed. “Raffaele!” I boomed when he emerged and began to scale the fence again. “Get down.”

He didn’t like hearing this one bit. “But Mamma said I could.”

“I did not,” Francesca told our son. “And you don’t get any presents if you lie on your birthday.”

I went over and kissed my wife first. “You look good enough to eat, monella.”

“Later. Right now, I need you to get your son under control so we can start.”

“Good, because I have a surprise for you after.”

Raffaele was a strong-willed child. Francesca often said I was the only one who could deal with him, especially when the boy was angry. All I did was talk softly but sternly, holding his eyes. It calmed him down every time.

By the time I reached the fence, my son was picking up dirt clods and throwing them as far as he could. He loved being outside every bit as much as my wife did. “Are you ready for cake?”

---