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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Unspoken - 11. Benvenuto in Famiglia

Bryce looked much more nervous than, really, he’d had a right to be. This situation was surprising to all of us, even Nicolo, I could see. As much as his, well our, family simply did not keep secrets, no whisper of this part had reached us. Anyone watching Bryce closely would have noticed the very moment he bucked up. His shoulders rose just the barest, his back a bit straighter, but it was his face that really gave it away.

He stepped forward from between us, unceremoniously dropping the small backpack he carried along with his two suitcases. I winced just a bit. His Nintendo was in the pack, and I was worried he’d damage it. That could wait, though.

It took Bryce only one step to stand before the group we’d encountered. He looked up to the tall man before him, dressed in a suit, crisp and tailored, with his styled jet black hair, rugged green eyes, and a formal look upon his brow.

“B-buongiorno,” Bryce started. Nicolo coughed, and Bryce glanced his way. Nicolo mouthed a word to him, I missed which, and Bryce looked back to the man.

“S-salve, mi chiamo Bryce Bucello. È un p-piacere c…conoscerti?“ his eyes crossed and he looked down as his feet, and could be heard whispering “conoscerti?” to himself. He nodded vehemently, and looked back up to the man, nodding again. “Conoscerti” he repeated, before starting over, much more confidence flowing from is voice and posture.

“Salve. Mi chiamo Bryce Bucello. È un piacere conoscerti.”

The man’s face went from detached formality, to a happy smile. He knelt, a knee on the floor, and his hands on his upright knee, to look Bryce right in the face.

“Salve, Bryce. Mi chiamo Lorenzo Bucello da Firenze. È un piacere conoscerti. Benvenuti a Firenze.” He reached out and pulled the boy in a hug, engulfing his small frame just like Nicolo does. I’m not entirely sure why Bryce decided to do this. He knew well who Lorenzo was, having talked with him during Nicolo’s weekly videochats. I was happy that Lorenzo played along, though. He’s a big softie, really.

I heard some clapping, and my attention was drawn way from my father-in-law and adopted son, just for a moment, to see that we had been a spectacle. Several bystanders were lightly applauding. Nicolo’s face was full of pride, and we both stepped forward full of it. I threw Bryce’s backpack over my own shoulders, and as he stood, Lorenzo reached around Bryce to grab his two suitcases, and with a subtle nod to Nicolo, turned and followed the happy group out to the parking lot. I saw that Lucio had grabbed Nicolo’s bags. Nicolo grabbed Bryce from behind, who squawked in shock as he was lifted and put on Nicolo’s broad shoulders. I’m not surprised we’d drawn the eye of the crowd. Nearly twenty of the Bucellos had been present. Not the family by half, but still a decent number.

Bryce’s face was plastered to the window, taking in everything he could as we drove to the manor. It was Lorenzo’s business car, technically a limousine, the Jaguar wasn’t quite that long, the back could only seat about eight. Presumably Lorenzo’s driver was behind the wheel, getting extra pay as Lorenzo never worked on a Saturday. Lorenzo was just that kind of man, finding some way to obscenely overpay his employees near the holidays, usually two-to-three weeks worth of pay for some small inane or mundane task. My thoughts on this seemed to be correct, as I saw Lorenzo palm him four €500 notes when he hugged him and wished him a Merry Christmas, while we unloaded the car. I was familiar with the house by now, so I split myself off to trundle bags up, as Nicolo and Bryce chattered about it. We already knew that Cugino Luca was staying in one of the guest rooms, so that Bryce could have his own room, right next to us. Bryce seemed to settle in fine, though the room wasn’t his, he still found the bed comfortable, and he liked the color scheme Luca had picked out. It was why Luca offered. I love the Bucellos. Such a welcoming family. I finished putting our clothes away, as Nicolo joined me, nodding and smiling. After checking to be sure all our things were shipshape, I stepped out of the room, and into Luca’s room. Bryce was sitting on the bed, thumbing through a guidebook he had talked Nicolo into buying him. The book was set aside as he looked up and saw me, clambering off the large bed as he did so.
“Hey, dad. This house is amazing, isn’t it?!” I nodded in reply, stepping up to him. I pointed to myself, then make a fist with my thumb sticking out and pointing it to me, pulling it from my stomach to my chest, almost like my thumb was pulling up a zipper, and then pointed at him. ‘I am proud of you.’ I pulled him into a tight hug, motioning towards the bathroom as I did let go. ‘Shower. Dinner soon.’ It was just gone six, so we had about an hour or so before dinner. I think Lorenzo managed to ensure the whole family would be here. Nonno Giuseppe was very clear about his plans. This we knew of, Nicolo and I, but we didn’t tell Bryce. I found it humorous that Bryce had done something similar to what nonno had planned, but nonno’s plans were much more formal. Much more intense. I was sure Bryce would be fine though.

When Lorenzo motioned me to stay after the last videochat before the holidays, I was shocked. We always chatted a bit through text messages throughout the year, but it wasn’t often he wanted to speak to me directly without Nicolo present. I had guessed that he’d already talked to Nicolo and that he wanted to tell me himself. I wasn’t wrong. As much as I loved Nonno Giuseppe, he and I consistently ruffled each-other. We were just separated by far too much of a culture and age gap to really see eye-to-eye on most things. We respected each-other, and we loved each-other, but we often didn’t like each-other. When he laid out Giuseppe’s plan, I liked him less in that moment. Myself, I could understand, but to put a child through the same?

I shook my head back to the present, to hear the shower going in the bathroom. I shook my head again to clear my thoughts, and pulled out the clothes I wanted him to wear. At least shirt pants and socks anyway, his underwear didn’t matter.

Slipping back into our room, I heard the shower running. I shucked my clothes and tossed them on the floor next to the bed, hurrying to the bathroom. Hopefully Nicolo would be up for some stuffing. I was in the mood, and wanted Nicolo to bend me in half. He was just finishing rinsing shampoo out of his hair when I stepped into the stall. He smiled at me, but I smirked at him, dropping to a knee to take him in my mouth, eliciting a long moan. Our shower wasn’t short.

When we emerged from the bathroom, still toweling off, we spied Bryce sitting on the bed, facing away from the shower, a soft repeating thump-thump indicating he was swinging his legs, and he had shoes on. He turned, and his eyes went comically wide, blushing at our nudity, before flipping back around.

“So that’s why you were taking so long. I’ve been here twenty minutes!” he huffed. Nicolo laughed heartily as he clothed himself, managing to move faster than I did, and he sat next to Bryce. An arm reached across his shoulder, pulling him against his large side. “Bryce, someday you will find love, yes? Then you too will want to take long showers!” He laughed again, to Bryce pushing him away with an “EWWWWW NO!” I was laughing to myself as well, putting on socks before going back into the bathroom to comb and tie off my wolf’s tail. Nicolo refrained from rubbing Bryce’s hair as he stood to finish dressing, and I was grateful, as that meant we wouldn’t have to fix his hair. In the almost two years that Bryce has been with us, he’s kept his hair in a wolf’s tail too. I’d even go so far as to say he was as meticulous as I was. Shaving every day, making sure he takes care of his hair, and always having hair ties that were in good shape. He was a good boy. It wasn’t long before we were ready. I’d chosen a light blue polo to go with my black slacks, Nicolo a light beige polo, also with black slacks, and Bryce was wearing the leaf-green polo and black slacks I’d set out for him. “All ready?” Nicolo asked, and Bryce and I nodded.

We stepped out of the room, and I started walking down the hall. Bryce and Nicolo followed. Down two floors, and through a large hallway with a runner carpet, I paused at a door, giving Nicolo a slightly-nervous look over my shoulder. He nodded over Bryce’s head, and I steeled myself for what was to happen. I opened the door and stepped through, emerging in the center of the landing that was at the top of the half-moon staircase in the foyer. Guiding Bryce forward, the nearer the railing the more of the Bucello family was revealed. I didn’t stop at the top of the staircase. No reason to give Bryce more time to get more nervous. We stopped at the bottom, in front of the entirety of the family. Giuseppe and Celestina in front, flanked by Lorenzo and Aria.

Surprisingly, Bryce seemed to still have his resolve from earlier. He stepped forward, and repeated the same as in the airport.

“Salve. Mi chiamo Bryce Bucello. È un piacere conoscerti.”

Giuseppe gave him A Look. His deep voice spoke with authority. “Dici di essere un Bucello?” His eyes lifted to us, before turning to the family. “Chi garantirà?”

Nicolo spoke first. “È mio figlio. È pieno d’amore.”

Lorenzo spoke next. “È mio nipote. È pieno di corragio.”

Luca, the cousin who had given up his room, stepped forward. “È mio cugino. È pieno di lealtà.”

Vincento, Nicolo’s brother to whom Bryce was closest, also stepped forward. “È mio nipote. È pieno di forza.”

Giuseppe turned back to the still resolute boy, and knelt before him. “Ottimo. È un Bucello.” He reached forward, hugging just as Lorenzo had done, and spoke into his ear, lacking the gruff edge he’d had before. “Benvenuto in famiglia, pronipote.”

When Giuseppe stepped back, every other member of the family stepped forward, and did the same. By the end, Bryce’s face was streaked with happy tears, and with a glance up to rub at Nicolo’s shoulder, I could see his was as well.
So was mine.

Salve. Mi chiamo Bryce Bucello - Hello, my name is Bryce Bucello
Dici di essere un Bucello? Chi garantirà - You say you are a Bucello? Who will vouch?
È mio figlio. È pieno d’amore - He is my son. He is full of love
Nipote - nephew/grandson
Cugino - cousin
Pronipote - great-grandson
Corragio - courage
Lealtà - loyalty
Forza - strength
Ottimo - Very well

This chapter has been kicking around in my head since I started, so I’m happy to have finally gotten it typed out.
Thanks for reading!
(Also, feel free to share ideas of what events you’d like to see! I’m open to suggestions! If you don’t want to share in a comment you can PM me!)
Copyright © 2021 Late to the party; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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