Page 49 of The Godfather’s Christmas Twins
"Did you save any energy for dinner?" I ask, carrying them to the kitchen.
The smells of garlic and herbs fill the kitchen. Gia stands at the stove, stirring what looks like pasta sauce. She gives me a soft smile that makes my pulse quicken.
"They've been non-stop since this morning," she says, a hint of worry in her voice. "Maria made spaghetti. Are you ready to eat?”
“Starving.”
“Maria says we’re going to have a Thanksgiving feast just like the Pilgrims,” Daniella says as we sit at the table.
“Did she, now?” The last time I had a Thanksgiving meal was last year at Gia’s house. More accurately, I observed her having Thanksgiving from my post at the door. She’d invited me to join them, but I’d stubbornly declined. Before that, I didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving. What was the point? It’s just me. Instead, I gave house staff the night off to be with their families.
Over plates of spaghetti, the kids detail their day, most activities involving Maria. She must be exhausted.
I notice Gia's distracted expression, the way she pushes her food around.
"Hey." I catch her eye across the table. "Something wrong?”
She glances out the window toward Maria’s house. "I feel bad dumping the kids on her while I work. That's not what you hired her for."
“If I know Maria, she offered to take the kids.” She loves kids. If I had a nickel for every time she said I should marry and have kids, I’d be richer than I am now.
“Yes, well, it’s not her job. I’d like to pay her for her time.”
“I’ll pay her. And I’ll talk to her. If you need a nanny or something, we’ll arrange that, but you won’t find much better than Maria.”
"But—”
"No buts." I reach across the table, briefly touching her hand. “You need time to focus on your work and time for yourself."
“I like Maria,” Dario says.
“Then it’s settled,” I say.
That evening, we watch a movie in the theater. After, Gia corrals the kids toward their room to get ready for bed.
“Can you tuck us in too, Uncle Max?” Daniella asks.
Something in my heart shifts at the way she and Dario look up at me expectantly. “Sure. I’d like that.” I follow them and Gia to the kids’ room, watching as they go through their bedtime routine. Dario insists I read a story, thrusting a well-worn book into my hands. I settle into the chair between their beds, and they snuggle under their covers.
The simple act of reading a bedtime story feels so domestic, a feeling I always thought I didn’t want. But I’m entranced by their eager faces, the way they hang on every word, how they correct me when I try to skip pages. Daniella's green eyes, so like her mother's, grow heavy as I near the end of the story.
"One more?" Dario asks through a yawn.
"Not tonight, buddy." I tuck his blanket around his shoulders, surprised by how natural the gesture feels. "Sweet dreams."
Daniella reaches up for a hug, her small arms wrapping around my neck. "Night, Uncle Max."
I kiss their foreheads, a lump forming in my throat. Gia gives them kisses and then leaves the room with me. I turn off the light, leaving just the soft glow of their nightlight. I watch Gia next to me as she gazes at her children. Whitley had commented that Gia didn’t have choices in her life, which was true. Gia didn’t want to marry Aldo, but there’s no denying that Gia loves her children. I imagine if asked if she could go back and change her life, Gia wouldn’t change a thing. That includes running off with me. If she’d done that, she wouldn’t have had these kids, and they’re the center of her universe. It makes me love her even more.
I turn to her. "Well, looks like I've got the tucking-in routine down. Need me to practice on anyone else?"
Her lips curve into a knowing smile. "Are you offering to tuck me in, Mr. Giraldi?"
"Just trying to be thorough in my hosting duties." I step closer, my hand finding the small of her back and tugging her closer.
"Are you now?" She raises an eyebrow but lets me guide her toward my wing of the house.
"Definitely." I lean down, my lips brushing her ear. "Did you know that I'm very particular about proper tucking techniques?"