Biscotti - 16. Chapter 16

I found Uncle Gene had stopped to bring them groceries, and Nonna offered the girls some ice cream. That was okay by me. Uncle Gene was the oldest, and he took care of Nonna and Pa’s financials. In other words, he helped them out by buying food and paying the bills. He was a good man in my eyes.

While Mom and Dad talked to Nonna and Pa, I put the ice cream in the freezer. If you thought Nonna didn’t see me doing that, you would be wrong. Brad and I told them about our scholarships and going to the same college. Nonna was all smiles, especially when she learned I’d be staying home. That meant I’d be attending the Sunday family gathering.

The rest of the summer, I worked two jobs. Brad spent Saturday nights and helped to cook Sunday breakfast. Carol and Tom felt we should share, so we slept at each house every other Saturday night.

The last night before school started, we stayed at Brad’s. I told Mom I would cook dinner, and they were not allowed in the kitchen. I cooked the exact same meal that Nonna prepared for our lunch when they met Brad.

Mom would stick her head around the corner, “Need any help?”

“No thanks.”

Everything was ready except a salad. That didn’t take long, except the dressing required a little time for flavors to meld.

I told them dinner was ready. The table was set, a small dish of grated cheese was in the center of the table along with the salad. They sat down, and when Brad saw the polenta, he jumped up and kissed me. “You do know how to make this.”

I sliced the polenta and placed a sliced on each plate. Dad was going to taste it, and Brad said to wait. Next, I put a piece of chicken on each plate from the pan, and then with a ladle, I dipped the sauce and poured it over the polenta. A sprinkle of cheese and we were ready to eat.

I watched Brad. He took a bite, and he smiled. “When did you learn how to make this?”

“I think I was 10. It is one of my favorites, and I’ve made it lots of time.”

“I think you’ll make it lots of time again.”

“Scott, this is very good. Brad told us about the luncheon, but I didn’t know it was this good.”

“What else do you know how to make?”

“A few Italian dishes and some farmer dishes. In time you’ll taste them all, but you may not like them all.”

“Anything you cook, I’ll like.”

“What is for breakfast tomorrow?”

“Leftovers”

That night as we cuddled, “When do you have to report to school. I have to report one week before school starts.”

“I don’t know, maybe the same time as you.”

“ In the morning, while I make breakfast, check your letter it should tell you.”

I’m glad that we’re both going to the same school. And since it’s within commuting distance, it means we still have our Saturday nights and Sundays at Nonna’s.

I kissed Brad good night and rolled over so I could snuggle and pull his arm over me. I fell asleep dreaming of living with Brad after we finished school. It started as an ordinary dream and soon became an erotic dream. I must have squirmed in my sleep. I awoke with Brad’s hard rod in the crack of my ass. The knob of his dick was stuck in my entrance, and a slight movement on my part would have permitted it to enter. I laid there very still and slowly moved away. I almost panic when Brad grabbed me to pull me back into him. I whispered bathroom, he relaxed, and I went to the bathroom. I needed a breather.

Getting back in bed, I laid with my head on his chest. My backside was protected from his wandering rod, although I did feel it against my leg.

6:30 and I was awake looking at the man I loved, the sleep of the innocent. Only this man wasn’t entirely innocent, but as I looked, I realized how deeply I loved him. Smiling, I gave him a quick kiss as I got out of bed. I wanted to get breakfast ready by the time he woke so it would be a surprise for him. It was funny watching him reach for me in his sleep.

I went and took my shower and got dressed. Taking one last peek at Brad, I went to the kitchen to start breakfast,

Breakfast was a no-brainer, but this morning was going to be different. When I made the polenta last night, I made enough for breakfast this morning. I soon had the coffee going, eggs ready to fry, polenta sliced and ready to fry, and sausage ready for the oven. I placed the sausages on a pan and put them into the oven. I waited till I heard someone coming downstairs before I began to cook two eggs and fry three pieces of polenta.

When Carol came into the kitchen, “Good morning, Mom, sit here and enjoy a cup of coffee. Your breakfast will be ready in a minute,”

I watched as she sipped her coffee. I sat the maple syrup on the table, “Pancakes?”

“No, this is an Italian breakfast.”

The polenta done, eggs ready, I put two sausages on her plate and sat in front of her, “I like a little syrup on my polenta when I eat it like this,”

I watched as she took the first bite. She smiled as I filled her cup. “Some like to dip it in the egg yolk also.”

Then I heard two voices heading down the stairs, eggs on, polenta on, and coffee poured. Just as I was turning the polenta, they came into the kitchen. Tom sat next to Carol and tried to sneak a piece of her polenta. Brad came over and kissed me. “I missed you. Waking up to an empty bed isn’t fun anymore.”

“Go sit down. Your breakfast is ready.” I fixed two plates and set them before the guys. Then I fixed my plate and sat next to Brad. I like just a little syrup on my polenta. Brad watched and followed, “Just a little. This isn’t pancakes.” Then I placed an egg on top of one of mine. They all watched. When I broke the yolk, it ran over the polenta. Brad reached over and took a piece of my polenta with the egg yolk.

“I want to taste it before I did that.”

“You don’t have to do everything I do. But go ahead and try it?”

He took a larger piece, “Of course I do. We said we were going to share everything.”

I smiled, he covered his plate, turning his back to me. Mom and Dad smiled. They were too busy eating.

I started to eat, and everything returned to normal. “I thought you said we were having leftovers?”

“We are, leftover polenta.”

“When we are living together, are we going to have this often?

“As often as you like.”

“With chicken?”

“Yes, with chicken.”

Mom and Dad were laughing. “Brad, is it Scott or the food he cooks that interests you?”

“Both, but Scott would win over. As I get to find out these hidden talents, I know how lucky I am. But we haven’t tried his spaghetti sauce.”