Unspoken - 25. Bryce a Firenze, Parte Due

I lay in bed, tapping out short tweets about my time so far here in Firenze. The flight across the ocean. Meeting papà’s family at the airport. The little ceremony Bisnonno Giuseppe did. The palazzo. The day of board games. I made a tweet about going shopping too. I left out that we’d gone shopping for gifts for friends, though. I tweeted some pics of the new swimsuits I’d gotten, and of my new earring in the shape of a bee, and even some of the new underwear. I know I was little young for social media, but dad and papà wanted me to have a way to communicate with friends while I was outside the country. He said it was a good way to keep in contact without relying on emails or phone calls or text messages. Dad helped me set it up, like he helped papà set up his own twitter account for his voice-work, and we picked out TheBucelloBee for my @. We set it up a few days before flying here. He admitted he was nervous about letting me online like this, because the internet could be dangerous, but he said he trusted my judgement because of my history. My profile listed being trilingual, and locations listed the USA and Italy. He wouldn’t let me be any more specific than that. There were lots of rules he gave me, but I know they were to keep me safe, especially after what happened with the break-in and the bastard knocking on the door two weeks later, earlier this year in June.

The whole situation worried papà more than he let on, I could tell, but I I could also tell he trusted dad to keep us safe, and keep me theirs. So did I.

I made sure to tweet about the shopping in both English and Italiano, and included hashtags. Most of my followers that weren’t my friends were other family members. Uncles A shared an account, which surprised me, and Grampa Archie had one too. Kyle, Peter, Ethan, Nicole, Melissa, and Jus and Jamie wouldn’t see my tweets for another few hours, because Italy is five hours ahead and it’s in the morning here, but I was excited to share. I did tweet out some photos of the public areas of the palazzo, too, which I promised my friends I would do. It was the eve of Natale, and I was excited for what we would he doing today. After the festa last night papà explained on the way back to the rooms.

I’ve been so lucky. I know I was abused by the bastards, and we were all fighting to get me normal and past that, but I don’t mind so much anymore, because despite all that bad happening, I wouldn’t have gotten dad and papà if I hadn’t been abused.

Today was important for me, because today was one of the Tradizione Natale di Bucello that papà had explained beforehand. I felt… honored… would be the only word I could think of, to participate.

There was a knock on my door, and just like papà did, I called out “Entrare!”

The door creaked slightly as it opened to show dad, not yet dressed but in one of his rainbow pairs of underwear, carrying a small bag. I sat up and put aside my phone, standing as he put the bag down, and we hugged. We put our palms on each-others chests, and we dropped them shortly, to dad signing ‘you happy.’

I nodded and smiled widely. “I am so happy, dad. I love you.” He hugged me again.

He tapped the bag, ‘your costume change there.’

“Okay!” I nodded. “Do I need an extra layer like yesterday?”

He shook his head, ‘no walk outside only inside,’ he patted my shoulder. ‘Come breakfast first long day.’

I followed him out of the room, and papà joined us in the hallway. I laughed at their matching underwear. We made our way to the family dining room. Not everyone was present, during the Raccolta Bucello di Natale everything was even more informal, papà said, but all meals were still what he called stile famiglia, or family style. We didn’t spend too long eating, as we were later than some others, but we weren’t late. After dropping our dishes off in the washer bins, we returned to the rooms to shower and get dressed.

I made sure to bring the costume as we made our way to the guardaroba, and I saw that dad and papà had theirs as well. We met Zio Luca and his own fidanzato, who turned out to be a man named Santino, who was his age, in their mid 20’s. He arrived this morning.

“Hai fatto la proposta?” Papà exclaimed when he saw the rings on their fingers.

“Sì!” Zio Luca also exclaimed, and held up their clasped hands, giving Santino’s a kiss and smiling at him.

It was a shock to me that Zio Luca was gay too. As we walked to the car we were to take, Luca put his arms across my shoulders, and stage-whispered “it was Cugino Nico who gave me the courage to come out, also. You are lucky, piccolo,” and he kissed the top of my head. Zio Luca and Nonno Lorenzo and Nanna Aria were probably the three Bucello I was closest to, the ones I’d talked the most with, so I was curious why he never even mentioned having un ragazzo.

We climbed in the car, with Luca and Santino in the front, dad papà and myself in the back, our costumes in the trunk with several dozen small gift-wrapped packages in three red bags. Papà had mentioned what the tradition was, but took the time to spell it out for me in more detail.

“The Bucello are molto fortunati to have what we have. There have been times when our wealth has almost gone, but that was due to conflict. Nonno’s own nonno started a charity after the first world war, to provide funds to orphanages. The administration of the charity is paid for by Bucello Investimenti, so the entirety of donations goes to orphanages. It is always more difficult to find homes to adopt older children, so the charity helps to provide so they can grow up happy. Capito?”

“Sì papà,” I answered. “Have we, I mean the Bucello, ever adopted?”

“Ah, sì!” called Luca, from the front seat. “Mio padre, Alessandro, was adopted by Nonno Giuseppe. Zio Lorenzo was there when they first met.”

“My middle name Alessandro is for him.” Papà continued. “He lives in Modena but is sadly ill and he cannot travel right now. You will meet him next year. At least one or two Bucello per generation are adopted.”

“But today we’re bringing Natale to them, right? The orphanages?”

“Sì,” said papà. “We have three to visit today. They all send a list of names, genders and ages of children in their care to the charity, and the charity purchases small gifts for every child. We bring them around so they can have Natale. Every Bucello of age to understand and participate helps out in some way. Purchasing, wrapping, or delivering. Since his first Natale here in Firenze, Alex and I have delivered. He is a hit with all the children.”

Dad shrugged, and pointed to papà, signing ‘you too.’

Papà laughed. “Sì sì.”

I leant forward, and poked at Santino.

“Va bene, Zio Santino, come stai?”

He turned, and gave me a wide smile. “Ah, sì, Bryce. Non parlo ancora molto inglese.”

“Ah, vero.” I said. I knew what that was like, “sei anche mio famiglia, vero?” I asked.

He nodded, “Ovviamente, cugino piccolo.” I smiled. If Luca loved him, he must he nice.

Luca obviously already knew where we were going, because it didn’t take long to get to the first orphanage.

We all bundled out, and Luca opened the trunk so we could get our costumes and the bag of gifts out. I saw that there was a small number sewn into the top of each bag. I guessed this was so they knew which orphanage each bag went to.

Instead of knocking on the front door, Luca and papà led us around the building to a door in the back. Luca knocked, and the door was opened by an older woman.

“Ah! Signori Bucello! Benvenuti! Seite puntuali! Vieni, vieni!” She waved us to follow, and she led us to what was presumably her office, with a decent sized desk and laptop computer, and a small printer on it, closing us inside. Following miei padri and Luca’s lead, I pulled off my jacket, and opened the envelope with the costume. Green leggings, a green tunic, with a green hat and green elf shoes.

Knowing I’d need to strip further down, I tried to change quickly, and when I looked up to everyone else, I couldn’t stop myself from laughing! Papà, Luca, and Santino were all guised up just like me, but it was DAD who was dressed as Babbo Natale! With a pillow under his shirt and the fakest beard ever! Papà even had ‘L'elfo più alto’ on his tunic!

Apparently my laughter set off Zio Luca and Zio Santino, because they lost it too. Papà and dad were just watching me laugh with looks of love on their faces.

The three of us finally got our laughter under control, and papà grabbed the bag. When we stepped out of the office, she was still waiting. She started talking to papà really fast and I couldn’t keep up. I felt a hand on my shoulder as we walked, and turned to see dad still smiling at me, which made me smile too. Luca stepped back, and put an arm across my shoulder as we walked through the hallfway.

“È molto facile. Just pick a package, read out the name, and the child will approach. Hand them the package, and wish them a Felice Natale! Facile, sì?”

I nodded cheerfully as papà squeezed my shoulder.

We all stopped at a doorway, and I started getting a bit nervous. Dad squeezed my shoulder again.

‘Is okay I stay with you you fine,’ he signed. That made me feel better, that dad would stay with me.

When we finally walked through the door, there was lots of cheering, and I heard a lot of “ZIO NICOLO” and “ZIO LUCA” coming from the crowd. We got rushed, and there was too much talking too fast for me to pick up on it all but I got hugged too! Eventually papà and Luca got all the kids calmed down and got some space in front of us.

Papà put down the bag, and stepped behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. “Questo è Bryce. È nostro nuovo figlio. È molto timido. Sii gentile per favore.” The he waved at Santino. “È Santino. Lui è fidanzato di Luca.”

There was alot of woohoo-ing for both of us, and I could feel my face flushing hard. Some of the kids chattered at papà, and I think they were asking for some voices, because he started speaking some lines from movies. He imitated Sean Connery as James Bond, he did Shrek, Ash Ketchum from Pokèmon, Optimus Prime, and a few others I didn’t recognize that I think were Italian actors. He got lots of cheers. I beamed in pride. That was my papà!

The nice lady whistled for attention, and the cheering died down. Papà opened the sack, and started pulling out packages, and handed one each to me, Luca, and Santino.

Papà called out the first name, and a hand went up, calling out “IO!”and the boy walked up to papà. He took the package, and hugged papa around the waist, and I heart him whisper “grazie mille, Felice Natale” before he pulled back.

“Prego, piccolo. Felice Natale,” papà said, running a hand across the boy’s hair. The boy stepped back teary eyed, and rejoined the group. That seemed to be the cue for Luca and Santino to hand out gifts too. The same happened. I looked down at the package in my hand, and called out “A…Aurelio?”

I saw a boy of six walk up to me, smiling shyly. I held out the package, “per tu, Aurelio. Felice Natale.”

“G-grazie mille, Bryce. Felice Natale.” He choked out, and slammed me in a tight hug. I hugged him back. This boy was me. Scared, and looking and hoping for a home. I was so lucky to get one, and I hoped all these other kids would too.

He let go, and clutched the small package to his chest as he rejoined the group, eyes teared up. I felt a tap on my shoulder, and turned to see dad smiling at me. ‘You call I give’ he signed, and I nodded. He pulled a package out of the bag, which was getting smaller by the moment, and tilted it so I could call out the name.

Carmen came up, and dad handed her the package, as I said the same thing I did to Aurelio. She hugged dad, but said “grazie mille, Babbo Natale. Felice Natale.” Then she hugged me too, saying “Felice Natale, Bryce” to me too. I said it back to her.

I could see dad’s eyes tearing up as we handed out gifts as a team. Between the five of us, the gifts all got handed out really quick. No one had opened their packages yet, but when they realized they all had one, they all called out “Grazie Mille, Bucello. Felice Natale!”

We were swarmed with hugs again before we could leave, but we finally managed it, getting out clothes and bundling into the car. In the car I started tearing up again. “Papà?” I asked.

He pulled me tight against his side as we headed for the next orphanage. We’d change back into our own clothes after the third one. “Sì, piccolo?”

“We do this every year?”

“Si, piccolo.”

“Good. I wanna be Babbo Natale for as long as I can.”

Dad poked me in the side, and I turned to see him sign ‘we proud you B very proud you amazing kid.’

It wouldn’t take too long to drive to the next orphanage, but I was excited to be able to bring some joy to those other kids. It would be a long day, and I knew I would cry alot by the time we got back to the palazzo, but I didn’t care. I was intent on giving other kids a bit of hope and joy. Papà hugged me tighter against him as we drove. Tomorrow was Natale, and I couldn’t wait for the next tradizione.