Free Dare by Celia Juliano

asked in a low voice.
    She paused. “I’m okay. Marcella’s outdone herself.”
    Joey nodded and took a bite of salad.
    “I hope everyone is well at Dad’s,” she said.
    “Aren’t you and Dad stopping there later?”
    “Yes, just for a little. We don’t want to tire Lita, and Gina too.”
    “She and Vincente coming home later?”
    “Tomorrow morning. Celeste is enjoying this time with her granddaughter.”
    Joey nodded. Family was everything to Aunt Celeste, well, now Grandma Celeste. She was especially glad when Gina had returned at the beginning of the year and the family had healed some. Joey was glad too. The drama between the two sides of his family—D’Angelo and DeGrazia—had put a strain on his parents especially. Hopefully all that was behind them.
    The conversations around the table quieted as everyone sat, full of good food and Christmas cheer. And, in his case, more thoughts of Ariella. She glanced at him, her brown eyes sparking and intent. When he had her alone again, he’d keep his gaze on her, just take her in. And then…
    “Let’s move to the living room, eh? I know at least one of us is ready.” Grandpop winked at Layla, who’d been squirming in her seat.
    Layla hopped up then glanced around and sat again. Ariella patted her arm. Grandpop walked to them and offered each an arm. Joey waited while Mom and Dad rose, and Becca, Pete, and Uncle Sal followed Grandpop to the adjoining room. The Christmas tree lights twinkled, and the fire crackled, a cinnamon scent swirling in the warm air.
    The usual round of conversations joined the buzz in the room. Joey hung back, watching. He leaned against the door frame, his limbs relaxed. This was everything he could want on Christmas, or any other day—he had a job he loved, his family around him, and Ariella was back. A knot of tension tightened the back of his neck. There could be more. More with Ariella. He stepped into the room, joining Pete and Uncle Sal near the fireplace.
    Becca sat at the piano. “‘Joy to the world…’” she sang. Everyone joined in, but his voice was low. Layla pulled his hand. She held Ariella’s hand with her other hand. Layla beamed, joy radiating. Joey wanted nothing but joy for Layla, and Ariella. He squeezed Layla’s little hand.
    “’Repeat the sounding joy,’” he sang. Joy on repeat. He’d like to get used to that.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Eight
     
    Ariella kissed Layla’s forehead, touching her hair. A tinge of guilt pricked her at leaving her girl, even knowing Layla’d sleep soundly, especially after their long, exciting Christmas day. A joyful day.
    She turned to Marcella, who was already settled in the chair near the bed. “Thanks, Marcella. You’re sure you don’t mind?”
    Marcella made a clicking sound. “You go, take your time. I have your number, just in case. I knit. Rudy and signore watch It’s a Wonderful Life . I prefer to sit here, with your sweet girl.”
    And her thoughts and memories, no doubt. Sometimes, Ariella did the same, sitting by Layla long into the night, her embroidery or a law text in hand. She kissed Marcella’s papery cheek. Marcella patted her hand gently.
    Tears formed, but she blinked them away. She belonged here. This was her family. She walked out and into the hall. She hadn’t had a moment to check with Joe where he’d be, but he’d be near.
    The house was warm, the comforting scents of orange, spice, and conifers pervading every space. She stopped at the window that overlooked the back yard and view to San Francisco Bay beyond. Lit boats bobbed on its dark surface and lights twinkled from houses and streets, the holiday revelry still in swing.
    What she needed now, though, wasn’t the comfort of the view or the holidays or the scents, but that of Joey’s arms around her. She shook her head as she walked downstairs. If only she could get the comfort without complicating it with sex. Too late for that.
    Not quite too late. Mamá and Papa had