of mornin’ sun, on the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me, VD, in a fuckin’ pear tree! All these stupid ass names, totally unnecessary! Just give me a good ol’ bar of Ivory, Dove, or Coast!”
“I’ll wash your mouth out with it. Pipe down.”
Dad took a last hard drag on the cigarette, let it fall to the ground, and crushed it with his foot. Nixon opened the door for the guy, swallowing a laugh. His old man was in rare form, but it was probably nervous excitement. He tended to hide his anxieties behind a cloak of obscenities and being a royal pain in the rectum. As soon as the front door was opened, a rush of warm air greeted them, carrying notes of cheerfulness. The voices of the patrons enjoying themselves, dining on amazing food and having a damn good time. Nixon approached the podium, where the hostess stood.
“Hi there, how ya doin’?”
“Great! Would you like a table? If so, it’ll be about a two-hour wait,” the woman asked, dressed in a black shirt and pants. Her matching hair and blood red lipstick against alabaster skin gave her a goth look.
“Actually, I have a reservation already. The name is Nixon Rossellini. I have a booking for seven adults and six children.”
“Welcome! Yes, we have you down right here. Your table is actually ready and a few guests from your party have already arrived and have been seated.”
“Oh, really? Fantastic.” He and his father followed behind a tall, thin waiter who’d been standing there quietly beside the hostess. He led them to the large table.
“Look, here he is! It’s Nix! And Dad!”
“Leo!” Nixon exclaimed, taking his brother into his arms. Although they did text each other sometimes, it had been a few months since they’d met. Leo released him to go hug Dad. Emotion and love poured from them, filling the space. Nixon crossed his arms and regarded the two. Leo was Dad’s favorite, and he was all right with that. Leo hadn’t experienced the same father he had. By the time he was a teenager and Nix was out of the house in college, Dad didn’t drink as much. He was more uptight, but spent more time with his children. So he’d been in a transition of sorts, and Leo had missed the quieter yet much darker version of this man they called Dad, who kept the world bottled up inside him.
Dad patted Leonardo’s back a few times, then looked past him at his brother’s wife, Jamie, and their two children, Abigail and Georgie. Happy tears brimmed in his eyes. The children squirmed about in their seats, their faces plump, with porcelain skin and rosy cheeks.
“Abby! Georgie! Don’t be shy! Come to Grandpa!” The kids jumped up and raced to him, wrapping their tiny arms around his neck. The old man picked them both up at the same time, one on each side, and gave them a kiss before winking at Jamie.
“Hello, to my beautiful daughter-in-law. Jamie, haven’t seen you in forever.”
“Hey, Santino. It’s so good to see you!” The short, wide-hipped woman with thick, dark hair made her way around the table. Dad put the children down and gave her a kiss and a hug.
While this was playing out, Nixon spotted Yasmine, who was sashaying over in a black jumpsuit, heels, and her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail. He loved that style on her. In her hand she held a silver clutch purse, the clasp shaped like a fox encrusted with diamonds. When she made it over at the table, all eyes were on her. The discussions stopped in an instant.
She sure knows how to make a damn entrance. She’s fuckin’ fire. If she weren’t mine, I’d wish that she were. Hey everyone, look but don’t touch. I have fucked this woman in every way possible… Be jealous motherfuckers, be very jealous…
“Dad, Leo, Jamie, this is Yasmine Prince, my girlfriend.”
The silence stretched, during which three pairs of large eyes and two pairs of small ones rested on his lady. Then, just like that, Dad burst out laughing.
“So, you are real?! I thought he was makin’ you up!”
Yasmine laughed lightly and extended her hand for a shake.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Rossellini.” Dad grabbed her and gave her a big hug.
“Oh no, no, no. You can call me Santino, or Tino.”
Yasmine nodded. “Okay, I will.”
“Sit, sit.” Dad took over, looping his arm around Yasmine’s as if this were his house and she’d