The Hateful Heavy Heart | 18+

24 - Christmas in Memphis: Part Two

Ruggiero and I talked little on the ride to my dad's house.

The trip from my apartment was forty-seven minutes to the Rocky Villa, a suburb located just north of the town.

Ruggiero's Italian CD's played throughout his truck. I looked out the window, my head laid against the glass pane.

In my lap sat the eggnog pie I prepared the night before. It was cold from the overnight refrigeration. I hadn't gotten a chance to taste it, but considering I was bringing it to dinner, I hoped it tasted all right. In our planning, neither I nor my mother told each other what we were making. It would be a pleasant surprise to see what she put together.

We arrived at my dad's modern style two-story home at just a quarter past seven. Dinner didn't officially begin until half-past seven, so we were early.

Ruggiero parked the truck on the side of the street. Once taking the key out of the ignition, he jumped out of the car before walking around to the passenger's side. I unclasped my belt and looked up to meet his gaze.

With his help, I stepped down into the grass. "Can you get the gifts from behind the seat?" I asked him. He nodded his head without a word.

I'd brought gifts for my parents and Jackson, but left Ruggiero's back at the apartment. I'd requested to trade our gifts in private.

As Ruggiero grabbed the gifts, I walked up to the tall door. I rang the doorbell and clutched my purse closer to me. Ruggiero was at my side before the door was answered.

"Are you nervous?" he questioned. His breath smelled like mint from the gum he'd been chewing on the ride over.

"No. I don't think so. You?" I returned.

He released a low chuckle. "A little. It's been a long time since I've met parents," he confessed. 

"It'll be fine," I assured him. I walked towards him and stood on my tipped-toes to plant a kiss on his lips. As I did, I heard the door open behind me.

I heard my father's throaty laugh. "Is that my daughter in love?" he asked.

I pulled back from Ruggiero, biting my lip. I willed myself not to feel embarrassed. "Something like that." She couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. "Dad, meet Ruggiero de Fiore."

My father was a short, stout man. He had a belly full and stretched by quality Tennessee whisky. He extended a hand out to Ruggiero. "Nice to meet you. I'm Jonathan Thompson." After realizing that Ruggiero couldn't shake his hand due to the gift bags he was holding, he pulled him in for a quick hug.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Ruggiero voiced. "It is true. Jace has stolen my heart."

He ran a hand over his balding scalp. "Well, I'll be damned. Come on inside! Jackson's already here," he said. He shuffled towards the door and opened it inward for the couple. "We're just waiting on your mother to eat!"

As I walked into the house, Ruggiero trailed closely behind me. Inside, I smelled the flavors of dinner. "Oh, Rue, that ham smells so good."

"Mhm," he hummed in agreement.

I walked further into the house to find Jackson already sitting on their father's leather sectional, watching football. "Hey, baby brother."

Jackson stood up to greet me. "Jace," he said lovingly, "how're you?" He enclosed me in a warm hug before standing back to look at me. Well, us. "And who's this?"

We spoke at the same time.

"I'm good," I shared.

"Ruggiero. It's nice to meet you," Ruggiero stated.