Unspoken - 27. Bryce a Firenze, Parte Quattro

The buzzing of my alarm woke me up, and I’m glad it did, because I wanted to be fully awake for dinner and caroling. Yawning and checking my phone, I saw it was just past 4:30. Just under an hour and a half before we had to leave to be at dinner. I had already shaved my scalp earlier, so a quick shower would only take like ten minutes. I had time.

I pulled myself upright in bed, shoving pillows around so my bare skin wasn’t directly touching the wood headboard, and unlocked my phone to bring up Twitter.

Apparently my little introductory tweets before the flight, and my tweets about being in Firenze got a lot of reach! I had like twenty new follows, and I saw that maybe half of them were classmates, and some were from Italians! My noties had blown up too!

Like fifty replies, maybe a hundred likes, and fifty retweets! I focused on the ones from my friends first.

Justin replied to my pics of the new underwear; @Just4Kicks: so glad you’re having fun! So brave for trying new underwear. Lmk if anyone gives you crap, I got your back! ❤️ Jus

Jamie replied to my tweet about going shopping; @LeggyBoi: omg I bet your dad has the gay shopping gene. I can see him bouncing around a mall!

@TheBucelloBee: IKR he was totally bouncy all day! Later on he danced to Dancing Queen. I ROFL’d so hard. Love my dad.

Nicole and Melissa both replied how jealous they were of my new pointe shoes, I just replied with an angel emoji, I didn’t want to give away the surprise!

Peter, no surprise there, commented on the pictures I tweeted of my new speedos.

@SwimmyPetey: dude we’re gonna get everyone in the speedo cult! How many is that for you, like ten?? lol you’re obsessed!

@TheBucelloBee: naw bro you should see dad’s closet! He’s got like 60 pairs! Even papà only has like 15!

@SwimmyPetey: totes jelly of those two Jaked ya got. That green is like my fav color, and the design on that blue one is EPIC!

I decided right then to trade what I bought for me with what I bought for him. We were the same waist size, so there wasn’t a problem there!

Ethan was losing his shit over my pics of the palazzo; @HistorEthan: duuuuuude that is so heckin cool! I need more! Get me more pics of the city, too!

I got a reply to one of my tweets in Italiano from someone called @MattyMakes: Ah! B! Sono cugino Matteo! Cugino Marco è @MarcoNonPolo. Ti amiamo, piccolo! Felice Natale!

Oh! It was Matteo! I replied in kind.

Then I saw Kyle’s comment about my new earring;

@KylePile: the bee suits you since your dad calls you B!

@TheBucelloBee: we all got pierced. Papà got an Italian flag, and dad got a rainbow moon with cone ends.

There were a few other tweets, and I got some random ones in English and Italiano asking for pics of me wearing either the underwear or the swimsuits. I blocked them right off without responding. My profile listed me as a minor, so I knew they were just perverts. That was one of the reasons dad gave me the rule of no photos of my face, and nothing of me only partially clothed or wearing a swimsuit. A lot of his job entailed poking around on the internet to find new authors, so he knew his stuff. Later on I’d get a pic of the Stemma di Famiglia, cuz I wanted to use that for my pfp.

I sent a couple tweets to everyone wishing everyone a Felice Natale, but by then it was still only 5pm. Still had about half an hour before I had to shower. I lifted my phone a bit to look down at my groin, considering if I wanted to have a wank. All my friends called it jerking off, but papà calling it a wank was so much more funny, so that’s the word I liked to use. I had a bit of an erection, it’s been a few days, but I dunno, it just felt wrong to wank in Zio Luca’s room, so I decided not to. Even thinking of doing it in the shower felt weird.

I knew probably more than a year ago that I was gay, and I’ve never really felt like dad and papà would care even the slightest, but, I dunno, we talked about just about everything between the three of us and my therapist Doc Joey, except for sexuality, that I felt I needed just one thing to myself. Not that I wanted to hide, just… for myself. Jamie knew, we often talked about what boys we found cute, which always made Jus’ eyes roll, but he always smiled to us afterwards so we knew it was okay.

Jamie was… just Jamie. I don’t think either one of us thought we’d make a good couple. He was cute, sure, but I think I love him more like a brother than I could love him like a boyfriend. Jus once asked us why we didn’t date. We just looked at each-other and then shook our heads. The second alarm I set on my phone startled me out of my thoughts, and I turned it off before setting it aside to have a quick shower.

Dinner was, well, dinner. Loud, lots of talking, mostly in Italiano but there was some English. Dad fielded some questions about books he was editing, and a couple people asked papà about his projects. Before desert came out, papà dragged me onto his lap, nuzzling the back of my neck, his breath warm.

I dropped my head back on his shoulder, and blew a raspberry at his ear, which made him laugh and twitch in surprise. When dessert arrived, tiramisù, which I really liked, papà fed me too while eating his. Something else I knew I was, really, too old for, but when dad and papà did stuff like this I always felt extra loved.

After dinner, we rushed to our rooms to get dressed, and I made sure to wear another set of the tights and shirt dad got for me. I grabbed a beanie too, because my hairstyle didn’t insulate very well. Going caroling is something I’ve never done before. I’ve sang along to some songs before, but not in front of anyone. I wasn’t sure I liked my voice, but I would sing carols, because that’s what La Famiglia did. Just like dad went to mass with all of us. We all met and bundled into cars, before driving back to where we’d parked earlier, and walked to the Piazza del Duomo, which is where we were to sing. The cattedrale was as beautiful in the dark as it was in the day, and when we started to gather, space was made around us. Dad handed me the book he’d brought, and signed ‘sing if want ok.’ I nodded, and he also signed ‘I show you next.’ I hugged him, and he kissed me on the cheek. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I tilted my head back to see papà smiling at me from behind. He leaned over, and whispered to me.

“It’s ok if you do not sing, you do not have to. You can hum if you want.” I shrugged, and absently flipped through the book. It wasn’t very thick, and each page had a tab sticking out. Dad’s gloved hand reached across, and flipped a couple pages, showing me the tabs were there so pages could he turned while wearing gloves. It wasn’t surprising to see all the songs were in Italiano. The family suddenly fell silent, almost like someone made a signal or something, and then everyone started singing. At first I just hummed along. I didn’t know any carols. Radio stations in stores were all playing Natale music, but none of them were similar to carols.

There was a large crowd surrounding us. They were quietly watching and listening, and they gave polite applause between songs, but nothing really loud. I really only hummed along. Not really feeling ready to sing, until more than half an hour had gone by. Dad signed ‘two two’ at me, and I flipped to page 22. The song started, and I decided this time to try to join in. I didn’t for the first verse, but once I got the tune and cadence, I did.

Tu scendi dalle stelle

O Re del Cielo

E vieni in una grotta

Al freddo e al gelo

E vieni in una grotta

Al freddo e al gelo

Tu scendi dalle stelle

O Re del Cielo

E vieni in una grotta

Al freddo e al gelo

E vieni in una grotta

Al freddo e al gelo

O Bambino mio Divino

Io ti vedo qui a tremar

O Dio Beato

Ahi, quandi ti costò

L’avermi amato!

A te, che sei del mondo

Il Creatore

Mancano panni e fuoco

O mio Signore!

Mancano panni e fuoco

O mio Signore!

Caro eletto Pargoletto

Quanto questa povertà

Più mi innamora!

Giacché ti fece amor

Povero ancora!

Giacché ti fece amor

Povero ancora!

O Bambino mio Divino

Io ti vedo qui a tremar

O Dio Beato

Ahi, quanto ti costò

L'avermi amato!

Ahi, quanto ti costò

L'avermi amato!

My voice slowly faded away, and I looked up from the book, around to see space around me. I looked to dad, whose eyes were shining with tears.

‘B,’ he signed, ‘your voice beautiful.’ I shook my head, thinking he must be wrong. When I looked further around, I saw everyone looking at me in awe. Then applause started. It wasn’t that I was shy about this kind of thing anymore, I just knew my voice wasn’t that good! I looked to papà, who spoke softly.

“Piccolo amore, we all stopped singing after the third verse. That applause is all for you.”

“W-what?”

“Sì, piccolo. Your voice… è bello.”

I shook my head, “no, it can’t be!”

“But it is!” he continued, and I shook my head again. He sighed a deep “very well, we will drop the subject for now. Time to return to the palazzo. Our flight leaves tomorrow night, and we have a long day before that. We all need our sleep.”

The trip back was spent in silence, and I looked out of the window, seeing snow falling around the city, both modern and ancient buildings covered in the white powder. It was different than back in Georgia, that’s for sure. I don’t think I’d ever seen snow before coming here, and while I kinda liked it, I didn’t like the cold, so I’m glad we lived in the south. Dad said even Williamsburg in Virginia got snow occasionally, and that wasn’t even that far north.

Back at the palazzo, even more hugs were exchanged, and we all bundled ourselves back to our rooms. Dad gave me a hug with a sad smile, which made me feel bad, and papà gave me an extra tight hug as he kissed the top of my head. Neither said anything. I think they were as tired as I was. Looking at the clock on my phone I saw that it was after 9. It didn’t take me long to fall asleep.

My alarm woke me quickly in the morning, thankfully without dad or papà tearing my comforter off me this time! I checked the time after hitting snooze, realizing that since it was only 5, I still had a couple minutes before I would need to be up and showered. Opening telegraph, I saw that dad had sent me a silent message.

[I know you disagree, but your singing voice is beautiful, B. Hope you slept well, and we’ll see you in the morning. Go ahead and shower and get dressed before breakfast. Remember: the family is cooking breakfast and lunch so the palazzo staff and their families can have their own Christmas. We’ll meet you in the dining room at 6, and take you to the kitchens from there. We love you! ❤️]

I replied with a silent message of my own.

[I love you too dad, so much, and I’m loving my time here. So special! I’ll be ready!]

I also sent a silent message to papà too.

[Buon giorno, papà! Ti amo! ❤️ Grazie per avermi portato qui! Il palazzo è molto bello! La famiglia è molto fantastico!]

He hadn’t sent me a message, but that was okay, it was more dad’s thing to send me silent messages. Papà was more of a huggy-papà than a message-papà. I loved both their hugs.

I stretched lazily, letting out a yawn, and had to force myself to get up, before I fell back asleep. I pulled clothes out and brought them into the bathroom to shower so I could still be warm when I got dressed. I’d grabbed a random pair of briefs and socks, but picked shorts and a shirt that I wouldn’t mind getting dirty in the kitchen. My shower was quick as it always was, and I brushed quickly so I wouldn’t be late!

I could hear that dad and papà had already left, so I trotted through the now-familiar halls to get to the dining room. I entered, to see dad setting places, and papà chatting with Zio Vincento. I crept up behind him, papà giving me a glance as Zio Vincento was facing away from me, and called out “BOO!” as I jumped on his back.

He laughed and grabbed my arms, which I’d flung over his shoulder. “Ah, piccolo nipote! Dormi bene?” he asked.

I nodded. “Sì, Zio. E tu?”

“Ho dormito molto bene, grazie, piccolo. Sei pronto?”

“Sì, zio. Sono pronto!”

He nodded to papà, and made to carry me off. “Vieni, Bryce. You can help me make the cornetti. It is easy to learn and easy to do!”

“Ora fantastico! Mi piacciono i cornetti!”

He walked me into the large kitchen area, and it wasn’t surprising it was so big. Vincento told me that staff and families all told were about 90 people, so we had a lot to do! He set us up at a station, showing me how to mix the ingredients and make sheets, cut the shapes, fill and roll, and showed me all sorta of tricks to make things perfect. We had our own oven to work with, and Zio Vincento helped me with that too. We weren’t the only ones making cornetti, I could see six others. We only did one type of filling, and I could see that others were doing other fillings. I glanced around after about an hour, and realized that I couldn’t see papà anywhere. I realized this didn’t make me uncomfortable. I was safe, and I felt safe. It was so odd for me, that I started tearing up. Vincento gave me a floury hug when I explained why.

Dad stopped by some time later with a plate of breakfast for each of us, and I could see laughter in his eyes at the state of me. I was covered in flour and I had somehow gotten some Nutella in my hair – I think Zio Vincento put it there! – and I didn’t care. Dad kissed me on the cheek anyway, patted my shoulder, and skipped off. He must have been in a great mood, he always skips around when he’s in a great mood.

We didn’t take the cornetti to the dining room, we just put them on trays, and other family that weren’t covered in flour would come to get them. I don’t know how many we made, and I wasn’t paying close attention to time, probably cuz I was enjoying myself. Eventually, Zio Vincento’s watch dinged, and he looked at it, and said it was time to start cleaning up! That was a trial and a half! It felt like it took forever! When the station was clean though, he sent me rushing off to change my shirt. I paid careful attention to where I was, so I could find my way back, and when I got back, I saw that he was over by a stove, also wearing a different shirt, with four large pots and a few bowls of ingredients.

For lunch he was teaching me to make Bolognese sauce for pasta, which made me smile wide! Dad already taught me this one, so instead of needing to teach me, we both dug in to the ingredients. We worked well together too, just like dad and I did. There wasn’t any music or dancing like with dad, but it was still enjoyable to cook with Zio Vincento. There was a lot of it that we had to make, so everyone that wanted some could, and again, partway through, dad showed up with some food for us. He looked over what we were making, and snuck a taste of the sauce. He kissed his pinched fingers like in some show or cartoon, which made us both laugh. When the sauce was finished we put it in large dishes to be served, and got them ready to be delivered. Then we cleaned this area too, which took less time, because there wasn’t any flour to get everywhere! Papà and dad arrived almost right when we got finished, and the family gathered around to give us hugs. We had to get all our stuff packed, so we could be to the airport in time.

I was sad leaving the palazzo, it was such a beautiful place, and everyone there was so welcoming and loving and nice, but I knew that I’d still be able to talk to them often, and we’d be back next year. It didn’t occur to me until we were on the plane and seated to ask why we were leaving so soon.

“In the past we visited for two weeks, but we wanted you to be able to spend some of the holiday with your amici.” Papà answered. Dad was in between us, and he was fiddling with his shoes, and nodded, agreeing with papà.

“But papà, I have the rest of the year and holidays and birthdays with my friends. Could we stay longer next year? I love all my family!”

Dad reached over to ruffle my hair, and nodded, as papà answered too, “sì, piccolo, we can spend the full two weeks from now on if that is your wish.”

I settled back, as dad finished untying his shoes, to cross his legs on the seat. I reached down to my own backpack to pull out The Light Fantastic, and out of the corner of my eye I saw papà lean down and give dad a long kiss. It would be a long flight to go home, but it also kind of felt like I was leaving home. But I would be back. I never thought anything could be better than my first birthday with my dads, but this first Natale totally was. I had family, real family, and I’d never let them go.