Unspoken - 24. Bryce a Firenze, Parte Uno

The last two days here in Firenze have been so amazing. I mean it wasn’t really two days. We got in two nights ago, and had that big event that Bisnonno Giuseppe did, and had dinner.

Yesterday Nonno Lorenzo told me that dad and papà had explained about our board game marathon last year, and most of la famiglia liked the idea so we spent the day lounging around in one of the large rooms, chatting, relaxing, and playing board games. Some in Italiano, some in English. No one was fully dressed, most just in underwear like we were last year. Nonno Lorenzo called it “una nuova tradizione.”

Everyone has been so nice and welcoming, so different to my life before my dads took me in. I have safety, I have consistency, and I have love. Papà’s extended family have been so welcoming and loving it’s still taking me by surprise. I know dad thought I was worrying for no reason, and he was kinda right, but he hasn’t had to deal with the abuse he grew up with for such a long time I guess it’s just not in the front of his mind like it is for me. I’m not angry about it; they never get angry with me even when I make mistakes or anything. If anything it makes me smile a bit to imagine he thinks I’m strong inside.

They’ve been so good to me and it often feels like I’ve done nowhere near enough to deserve it. Dad even broke down one night in front of me because he felt like he wasn’t being good enough, and it makes me sad that he thought that, but it makes me happier that he felt comfortable enough to let it happen in front of me.

I know dad doesn’t really enjoy anime and cartoons like I do, even though he watches everything papà has been in, but he and papà watch cartoons with me all the time and I know papà cares because he can talk about them with me forever. Jus and Jamie and Kyle and Ethan and Peter and Ryan and Alex and Nicole and Melissa all say they’re jealous because their parents don’t watch cartoons. I and they know their parents love them, but it’s still something that papà does for me that other parents don’t. Dad makes sure I always have a ride to Judo and ballet, and comes with me to barre and helps me practice and stretch at home too. I’m so lucky and I don’t know how this all happened.

Now my family has gotten so huge it’s overwhelming sometimes. I’ve talked in English and Italiano with many of them over the last eight months or so, but it’s different meeting face to face.

Nonno Lorenzo gave me a long tour around the palazzo this morning after breakfast and explained how parts of it are open to public tours outside of the two week gathering, except for one room he called Camera Della Famiglia, but he said Bisnonno Giuseppe would show me that room later, and the rest of the family’s bedrooms. The tour was long, and though dad often said I had a memory like a steel trap sometimes there was so much information I didn’t know if I could remember it all. When we returned to Cugino Luca’s bedroom - he told me to call him Zio - which is where I was staying so I didn’t have to be in the guest rooms on the other side of the palazzo, I did tell nonno I had a question.

“Sì, Bryce?”

“At the airport you said ‘da Firenze’ but papà said from was di not da?”

“Ah yes. You are observant to have picked up on that. We are all so proud of you to learn Italiano so fast,” he ruffled my still loose hair, and it felt just as nice as when dad and papà did it, “the answer is simple. The patriarch of our family, Giacomo Bucello, lived 800 years ago, and his house was right here. More history will be taught later, but we were established as nobility in 1478, and rebuilding and expansion on the house into a pallazo began in 1488. Starting from 1478 everyone would formally introduce themselves as Bucello Da Firenze, as back then Da indicated of a city. An example would be Leonardo Da Vinci. He was not from a notable family, and he was born in Vinci, nearby, hence Leonardo Da Vinci. Since that year was the birth of The Bucello as a family of importance, we have kept the tradition of historic Italiano. Understand?”

I nodded in response, happy that he’d answered, and he squeezed my shoulder before walking off. Papà had said he and dad would take me around town today to get souvenirs for all my friends for when we got back home.

Dad was leant back on the bed, waiting for me with clothes at his feet, when I opened the door. He looked up as I entered, and sat upright and stood as I approached. I gave him a hug, and he hugged me back tight. I loved his hugs, and papà’s too.

He pulled back first though, and cupped my cheek for a moment before pressing a palm against my chest. I pressed a palm against his chest too. “I love you too dad.”

He nodded, signing ‘cold outside we walk shop extra layer shower first.’

I nodded and headed for the bathroom.

The walls in Zio Luca’s shower were smooth, so I was able to hang up the mirror I brought to shave around my hair with a suction cup. It was nicer than having to hold it like at Grandad Archie’s house.

I tried to shower fast, but most of the time was taken up by shaving my scalp, as dad taught me to be patient doing it. I haven’t cut myself for over a year, but it really sucked when I did so I tried to avoid that as much as I could. After shaving I washed my hair and put in conditioner, making sure to gently rub it into my smooth scalp too, before soaping up and washing everywhere else. The conditioner I’d rinse off after rinsing everything else. Dad said that gave it a chance to hydrate my skin.

After drying off and brushing my teeth I made sure to apply scalp cream just to keep up my skin health.

I noticed that dad only picked out one pair of the Under Armour tights and shirts they got for me, so I had to get briefs, socks, and a shirt and pants. My new coat had been put in what papà called the guardaroba, so that would be grabbed on the way out.

I knocked on their door before going in. I knew they had sex as often as they could, but they made sure I never saw it. I thought papà was really good looking and dad was cute, but thinking of them doing that… I never want to accidentally see it. It’s private for them. I always act embarrassed when I catch them after, like before dinner when we got here, but I wasn’t, really.

I heard papà call out “Entrare” so I did. They were cuddled on the bed, and though I rolled my eyes at them always touching, I liked that anyone could tell they loved each-other. I could never tell if my birth parents loved each-other because they only seemed like they did when we were outside the house.

They got up from the bed, both grabbing a backpack, and the three of us headed towards the guardaroba, papà telling me the plan on the way.

“I have ideas for Jamie and Justin, and some ideas for your other friends. We want you to get them something that they wouldn’t get outside Italia, sì? Nothing ridiculous like keychains or snow-globes, okay? Something that they can enjoy.”

“Sì, papà. Are we taking a taxi or a bus?”

“Neither, we’ll park in the city, midge wants us to walk around so you can see the city before we go sightseeing.” I saw dad playfully kick at papà’s shins. “Today is just for gift shopping, bene?”

“Okay papà.” I know I say dad and papà out loud more than I really need to but I’m just so happy to have them that I want them to know it.

After finding a place to park the car for the day - papà drove ‘cause dad doesn’t have an Italian driver’s license - we walked to the first shop papà wanted to visit. The Team Store of ACF Fiorentina, Borgo san Lorenzo. Papà thought that getting a team kit each for Justin, Kyle, and Ethan would be a good gift, and I think he’s right. Papà suggested we get the home kit for Justin, the away kit for Kyle and the third kit for Ethan, and I agreed with that too. Justin’s favorite color was purple, so the kit would be perfect, with the shirt and socks purple and white shorts. Kyle and Ethan’s favorites weren’t purple or white so their colors didn’t matter as much. We were all about the same size, so it was easy to get the right ones. I made sure to pick out a patch for each of them too. Papà and dad headed towards the register, but they turned back when they noticed I wasn’t following. I clutched the clothes to myself, nervous about wanting to try but I felt like I could. Family was family but this wasn’t family.

“Dad? Papà? Can…can I pay?”

Dad beamed at me, and nodded, as papà pulled out his wallet and handed me a small stack of euro bills. I don’t think I’ve ever held so much money.

I took them and walked to the register, placing the items on the counter.

“Ciao!” the cashier said, smiling happily at me. “Questo è tutto?”

I nodded, “sì, grazie.”

The guy rang everything up, giving me the total. “Seicentotrenta Euro, per favore.”

Crap. I wasn’t sure exactly how much that was. Sei and cento made me think six and hundred, but trenta I’m not sure. I looked down at the bills in my hand, and when I looked back up, the guy was smiling still, but he pointed to the display facing at me. It showed “Totale: €630,00”

I let out a sigh of relief, and flipped through the bills, getting six €100, and a €50 and handed them over. He rang the cash into the register, and handed me a €20 back, asking “Vuoi una borsa?”

“Sì, grazie.”

He reached under the counter and pulled out a purple bag with handles, opening it up and placing the clothes and patches inside. He pushed it across to me, and handed me the receipt. “La sua ricevuta, giovanotto.”

“Grazie mille” I said, taking the receipt, and pulling the bag off the counter. I walked back to dad and papà, who gave me a hug and patted me on the shoulder, before making our way back outside.

The weather was cold but it was still a nice sunny day so it didn’t seem as cold, probably due to the tights and shirt dad had me wear. They take such good care of me. Growing up in southern California and then moving to Georgia, I wasn’t used to the cold, so I wouldn’t have thought to wear an extra layer like Dad did.

Papà managed to find a store that sold replicas of the pantaloons worn by the teams for the Calcio Storico, for Jamie, who had a thing for weird clothes sometimes. We got him red, his favorite color.

Papà also insisted we get him Italiano made pointe shoes, and they had me buy a pair for myself as well, picking a pair each for Nicole and Melissa too. I paid for them too, more comfortable doing so after the first time.

We went to many different shops, and got lots of different things. Earrings of the fleur-de-li for Nicole and Melissa. We got a silver bracelet for Kyle, and a silver necklace for Peter, both also with the fleur-de-li. We got an anklet with the emblem too, for my friend Alex. Ethan and Ryan didn’t really wear jewelry though. It was as we were walking out of the third jewelry store that dad tapped me on the shoulder, papà stopping behind us.

‘You want earring we both match earring,’ he signed.

I hadn’t thought of getting an earring, but getting matching earrings with dad would be really cool.

“That would be awesome, dad!” I turned to papà. “Maybe papà would get one too?” I gave him puppy dog eyes. Even if we didn’t all get the same earring I thought it would be nice.

Papà laughed, “If that is what you want we can look, tesoro.”

Papà decided we should take a cab, because the mall was farther than he wanted to walk. We found a less fancy jewelry shop, and we all poked around. I found one I thought dad would like, and it seemed they both found something too. I handed dad the small package, containing a horseshoe with cones on the end, in a rainbow. Papà handed me a stud in the shape of a bee, and I laughed, clutching the small package to my chest. Dad handed papà what he found, and papà looked at his own small package of a stud in the colors of the Italian flag, green white and red. Dad signed ‘I love it B,’ and papà said “anch’io.” Papà led the way to the register, and after paying for the earrings and the piercing fee, we all took turns having our right ears pierced.

I asked papà if it was okay to look around the mall more, and he just said “Alex?” and got a nod back.

As we passed a bookstore, I motioned that I wanted to look, and again we split up to poke around inside. For some reason I felt like I could find a gift in here, and after maybe ten minutes of browsing, found one. It was a book on the life of Christopher Columbus, surprisingly in multiple languages. They had Italian, Spanish, French, and English. I picked one in Italian and one in English, planning to get both for Ethan, who liked history. From a swim shop in the mall I picked out a couple swimsuits for myself, and a pair of Jaked for Peter. I wasn’t surprised in the slightest to see Dad holding four new pairs for himself, and he’d picked out three for papà. It’s good they grabbed backpacks, we were buying alot.

After the swim shop, our wandering almost passed by the food court. Dad stopped mid-step, papà almost walking into him, and his eyes closed, his chin raised, and he loudly sniffed at the air. I could smell it too. Dad turned to me, raised an eyebrow, and signed ‘you hungry,’ before turning to papà and signing ‘I smell pizza eat now.’

Dad loved pizza. He made it all the time, often making enough dough to last three or four days. Papà led us over to the pizza place, and ordered a whole pizza for us, instead of doing individual slices. He put a hand on my shoulder too, and pointed out little balls stacked on plates.

“Piccolo, those are arancini, they’re more like a snack than a meal. They have ragù and formaggio. I think you would like them. Alex prefers the ragù and I prefer the formaggio.”

I shuffled my feet, and looked up at him. “Maybe if you each get one I can try a bite of both?”

He looked to dad over my head, and said “Alex, bene?” Dad nodded to him, and papà ordered one of each of the arancini too. We all got just plain water to drink.

Dad and I got plates and napkins, and went to find a table that was clean enough. We found one, and sat and we sipped at our water as we waited. Dad leaned back in his seat after a moment and signed ‘you good day’ to me, wiggling his finger at the end.

“Sì,” I said, wanting to pratice Italiano, “mi sto diverto molto.” He beamed at me, so I guess I got it correct. “Ti amo molto, dad.” His smile somehow managed to widen, and he signed ‘you my heart’ to me, which made me tear up, just as papà arrived with the pizza and arancini. I tried a bite of both arancini, both were very good.

“Mi piacciono entrambi, papà.” I said, and papà smiled just like dad did. There was still lots of Italiano I didn’t know, but it made me really happy that they were so proud. I really really wanted to get to a point where papà and I could speak only Italiano when we were home with just the three of us.

As we ate, in between bites papà and dad spoke.

“Perché non fai l'arancino, Alex? Hai una ricetta?”

Dad finished the bite he was taking before signing ‘recipe yes we have no fryer.’

Papà paused for a moment. “Ah sì, perché no?”

‘Not found I like.’

“Cerca quando torniamo a casa. Gli arancini sono un ottimo spuntino.”

Dad just nodded and ate more pizza. I’ve always found it amusing that dad can on some days out-eat both myself and papà. I remember seeing a hot-dog eating contest on tv once, and the skinniest guy won. I had no idea why, it just popped into my head just then. Dad could probably eat the whole pizza by himself.

It did’t take long for the pizza and arancini to be eaten, we were all hungry. Dad and I got the trash, since papà waited for the food, while he waited at the table with our bags. The pizza was really good.

We were passing by a store that jumped out at me, and I paused a moment at the displays in the window. I knew from helping dad with laundry what type of underwear dad and papà wore, and I’d been curious about it for a while, but I never really felt comfortable asking. Maybe now? Here in Italy it was obvious that people were less body-shy. Papà had mentioned previously that he’d never worn board shorts to swim, and most of the younger generations didn’t put clothes on until after breakfast while he was growing up. The store didn’t look like it even sold the more common underwear found at home. I shuffled my feet, and coughed embarrassingly. They turned, seeing me paused by the front of the store, and returned to me. They glanced at each-other, and at the store, before dad signed ‘N-big we look new underwear.’

“Ah sì I could use some.”

‘B come we look maybe you try new underwear’ dad signed, and I perked up. I didn’t even need to ask, they knew me so well and they just made things so easy for me. I almost started crying but managed to hold it in as dad threw an arm across my shoulder, leading us inside.

Papà split off from us, heading towards the back where the men’s section seemed to be, while dad kept us near the front in the boys section. They had so many different types, and the ones I didn’t recognize dad spelled out. I knew about the thongs, bikinis, jocks, and posing straps, because papà wore mostly jocks and posing straps. Dad wore jocks, thongs, bikinis, and posing straps. The ones I didn’t recognize were called tangas, string bikinis which looked like a tanga but with a string instead of an elastic waistband, a little pouch that looked like it tied around the base of the bits that dad spelled out as a ‘pouch,’ and the last seemed to be called a ‘c-strap.’ It was all so new to me that they made things in kid sizes, and I saw dad laughing silently at my goggling eyes.

‘Europe not body shy pick anything all ok.’ He gave me a wink before he stepped away to let me explore by myself. I poked around, knowing that whatever I picked they wouldn’t make me feel wierd about it. I decided to try everything I wasn’t familiar with. I got two thongs, two jocks, two tangas, two string bikinis, but I decided to pass on the pouch. I didn’t think I’d like that. I grabbed a ‘c-strap’ and looked for papà, which was easy because he was almost always the tallest man in any place. He had several hangers in one hand and he was flicking through different designs of thongs.

“Papà?”

He looked down at me. “Sì, piccolo? Are you ready?” I saw him eye my selections.

I shook my head. “Not yet. Dad called this a c-strap. How does it work?” I held it up. He took it from me and looked it over.

“Ah,” he said, “the pouch is bordered in wire that sits around your genitals, and goes down to between your buttocks. It works by compression to hold it in place. They do not work for everyone. They do not work for Alex or me.” He turned it over and around. “I believe that like a tie-pouch they are designed for minimal coverage while still providing support. Maybe it would work for ballet? You should try it. Maybe it will work for you?”

“Okay!” I chirped. It was wierd, but there wasn’t much about my family – it still made me fuzzy inside to be able to say that as a good thing – that wasn’t weird. I took the small thing back from him. I made my way back to the front, and found dad searching for his size in a shiny rainbow jock, also with several selections in one hand. He looked me over, eyeing my selections as well, and raised an eyebrow.

”Sì, sono pronto.” I held up my choices. “If I like them we can order more online, vero?” He nodded, smiling. He searched out papà, and nodded towards him at me. “Ok!”

I went back to papà, “Sono pronto, papà. Dad isn’t yet though.”

“Ah, va bene. We can wait for him at the register.” He led us a bit farther back into the store, and we waited for dad to join us, which wasn’t long. It looked like both dad and papà were getting ten new pairs of underwear each. Papà insisted on paying this time, and we got two bags to separate out mine from theirs. The bags got rolled up and added to the backpacks, and out of the store we went.

I know we were spending a lot of money, but neither dad nor papà seemed concerned, so I tried not to let it get to me. There were some things that I had no problem asking for, but sometimes it was still hard for me to. It made me very happy that we were getting gifts for my friends. I’d never had friends close enough before, and I loved them almost as much as I loved dad and papà.

After we left the underwear store, we continued to wander the mall, but didn’t find any other stores to look in. We’d gotten stuff for all my friends, some more than others, but I knew some of them better than others. I hope they understand that I don’t like any of them more than the others.

We took another cab back to where the car was parked, and from there we headed back out of the city to the palazzo. It took a lot longer than I thought it would, but we left the palazzo before ten this morning and it was already after five! I wasn’t even tired, but it had been a long day. The drive the the palazzo was nice and calm. Papà was actually pretty quiet, and all dad signed was ‘you good day you happy.’ I nodded cheerfully, and made sure to thank them for taking me out and paying for all the stuff.

Dad turned in his seat again to sign ‘We love you’ as papà spoke too. “Piccolo, tuo sorriso is worth more than any amount of money. We haven’t really talked about money. We will when we get home, sì?” He gave dad a sideways glance, and he nodded back.

I mean, I guess money wasn’t a problem for them, six hundred Euro just for some clothes as a gift! Not to mention all the other stuff! It still worried me a bit. But papà wasn’t worried, so I would try not to. When we got back to the palazzo we dropped our coats off in the guardaroba, and headed back to our rooms to put away the backpacks. They were brought just for the souvenirs, so we wouldn’t need them again this visit. Papà told me we were going to have a small festa after dinner, which struck me as odd. It was still three days to Christm-er-Natale, so I wasn’t expecting a festa. He said that we would be fine in casual dress for dinner and the festa, so I picked out comfortable clothes for after I took another shower.

Dinner was really good, and I spent most of it talking with Zio Lucio and Zio Luca. I made sure to thank Zio Luca again for letting me use his room, but he waved it away, saying he was happy to. Zio Lucio was telling me stories about papà, who kept telling him to “Silencio!” but Zio Lucio just kept up. Papà was a clown when he was a kid, that’s for sure. My favorite story that he told was how after papà got interested in anime he spoke with a Japanese accent for like a whole month! Trying to imagine papà with a Japanese accent speaking Italiano was hilarious, I just had to hear it. Papà kept shaking his head, but when dad joined me in giving him puppy dog eyes he broke down, and spoke some lines. It was hilarious, and everyone seated nearby was laughing with us. Another good one was that to practice his accents papà would prank call other members of the family. The better he got the more he fooled people.

Eventually dinner was over, and we all made our way to a large room for the “festa” which dad explained was more just a chance to everyone to spend some time together. There was music in the backround, and most of the time papà was having me meet family face to face that I’d chatted with in the video-calls. I met Zio Vincento’s kids who were younger than I was, and Zio Bartolomeo’s kids, only one of which was my age. Zio Lucio’s kids were all older. I got more hugs from so many people and it almost made me cry, but I managed to hold back.

After spending time chatting with everyone, mostly in English, I heard someone call out “ALEX, YOU HAVE TO DANCE!”

I looked around, finding dad standing next to papà, being poked by Zio Luca. He was blushing and shaking his head. I made my way over to see what was up.

“Alex, you must! We did not get to see last year!” He shook his head, blushing again.

“Dad?” I asked. “What’s Zio Lucio talking about?”He turned to me, wide-eyed as if he was surprised I was still here. Papà started laughing uproariously.

“Ah, piccolo, your dad likes to pretend he’s not effeminate and obviously gay.”

Dad aggressively signed ‘I not feminine not obvious’ and glared at papà, who just laughed and ruffled his hair. “See?” He said. “Four years ago someone,” he gave Cugino Matteo, Zio Lucio’s oldest son, a glance, “put Dancing Queen by Abba into the playlist. Your dad was a little tipsy when it came on, so he danced to it. Since then every gathering someone tries to get him to dance again.” He pulled out dad’s hair tie, and fluffed his hair up all over. “He always acts embarrassed but he loves it and always dances it.” He cupped dad’s cheek.

Dad shook his head, flapping his hair all over the place, before visibly huffing and finally shrugging, smiling and nodding at Zio Luca, who rushed over to the computer set up for the music. Just before the music started he called out for everyone to clear a space. Dad was left standing in the middle as the song started.

It. Was. Hilarious. I mean, I was with papà. Dad was effeminate. Dad was obvious. He loved rainbows, and even had a rainbow bumper sticker on his car, and his favorite color was pink; more than half his shirts were pink. When he walked normally his hips swished a bit, and he had a habit of cocking his hips to the left when he was I think the word’s ‘incredulous.’ He talked with his hands, so they were always moving, and his wrists were always floppy.

As Dad danced and pranced about, hips shaking even more than normal, he swished about shaking his butt at almost everyone, to applause and laughter. Whenever the Dancing Queen line came up, everyone sang along, but changed the words to ‘Dancing Queen young and sweet you look seventeen.’

I tried to join in on the singing but Zio Luca slapping dad’s butt when he shook it at him set me off laughing and I couldn’t stop until after the song ended. After wiping tears from my eyes, I saw dad standing in front of me, smiling wide. ‘You okay’ he signed, and I nodded, still heaving breath. He cupped my face, rubbing a thumb under my eye, before dropping it. ‘Your laughter smile precious’ before pulling me in a tight hug.

I loved my papà and I loved my dad so much, and it was obvious every other Bucello loved him too.

I was loving my time here so far, with even more new family. After holding it in all day I couldn’t anymore, and cried into dad’s shoulder. Papà noticed, I think, because he came over and embraced us both, whispering “Ti amiamo molto, Bryce.”