144:He's Making a List

December 3

“Do you have a minute?”

Chiara’s question drew Jon's attention from his desk and the task list he’d become obsessed with as of late.  A couple of items were marked off, but even after spending the last three days on the phone, most of them remained stubbornly unchecked. 

He tried to stifle his annoyance with life's refusal to move at his pace, and twirled the desk chair toward the baby grand in his home office.  From the yoga pants and sweatshirt of the woman who leaned gingerly against it, he surmised that she’d been painting again.  She didn't get awarded the Pru Center mural, but had several requests to create pieces for Christmas gifts as well as working on her own gift for his dad.

Jon picked up the recently tossed pencil to scratch down, "C Studio".  Some dedicated work space for her here at the house might be a good Christmas gift from the kids since they’d never bothered moving back to the city after Thanksgiving.  Both had work to do that didn’t require their presence in Manhattan and it was just easier to stay holed up here in his house.  

Things were quiet with just the two of them this week, but he didn’t mind – and neither did Nana.  The crazy little mutt must run a mile a day around the yard.    

“What’s up, babe?”

The intense look on her face had him wondering if this was the magic moment when she would finally tell him about that last episode with Millie.  She didn’t offer anything but a hug when coming out of the library on Monday, and when he asked her about it in bed that night, all he got was that she wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. 

Seeing as he had things he wasn’t ready to talk about yet, either, Jon didn’t push.  Whatever it was would come out in due time, he supposed. 

With her arms folded across a Patriots logo and one hip leaning into the piano, she solemnly advised him, “We need to talk about Christmas.”

“December twenty-fifth.”  He checked today’s date on his watch.  “Little over 3 weeks from now.  What else do you need to know?”

“That’s all.  You’re a life saver – smartass.” 

Leaning back in the desk chair, he grinned at her.

Sometimes getting her to roll her eyes became a game.  So far, his highest score was five times in a single day, but it was early in their relationship seeing as they were still short of the four-month date that marked its unofficial beginning.  He held the same philosophy in this that he did in orgasm – it wasn’t good to peak too soon.

“So what is it you actually want to talk about?”

“Christmas,” she repeated, crossing to the guest chairs and kicking socked feet up onto the opposite far edge of his desk. 

Her first few times in here, the awards and memorabilia shit had intimidated her, but she was finally getting comfortable with the idea that this was his house and not a fucking shrine.  He liked that and swiveled his chair around to smirk at toes wiggling within the confines of gray sweat socks. 

“What about it?”

“What traditions do you and the kids have?  I get that we’re hosting the whole family here, but is that on Christmas Day?  Christmas Eve?  Should we invite Dorothea?  Lilah says you like cookies yet I’ve only seen you eat those she brought at Thanksgiving.  Are there Christmas cookies you want me to make?  What about gifts for your kids?  What do you usually do as far as shopping?  Is that something you want to do together or take care of yourself?  Are we setting limits and rules on gifts exchanged between us?”

Somewhere in the middle of that interrogation Jon simply reclined his head against the high-backed chair and laughed.  When she got on a roll, there was nothing to do but wait until she ran out of steam.  Some days it took longer than others, and she was pretty steamy today.  

“Jesus Christ, Counselor," he drawled through a lingering chuckle and and laced his fingers over his stomach.  "I thought my recording track was the most complicated thing I was gonna deal with this year.  Who would've thought dinner and a few gifts could make it look like child's play?”

“No kidding.  Now answer the fucking questions.”

A smile clung to the corners of his lips because her usage of ‘fuck’and all its variations never ceased to amuse him.  She was true Brooklyn royalty and Her Highness wasn't kidding about the Christmas thing.  This was serious business and he was expected to treat it as such, so Jon reached out to draw his notepad close.   

“Give ‘em to me again,” he requested, flipping to a clean page. This time he made notes as she replayed her Christmas Inquisition, scribbling one item after another until the flow of question marks found a lull. “That it?”

“For now.”

“Okay.”  Tossing the pen aside he leaned back in the chair and started at the top.  “This is the first year I’m not married to their mother, so Christmas traditions with my kids are up for negotiation – other than my annual photo of them in front of the tree.  I assumed Christmas Day for our families but let me make sure that works for Dorothea.  I guess it wouldn’t hurt to invite her since the kids will be here.  How do you feel about that?”

She shrugged.  “We’re looking at thirty people minimum.  What’s one more?  I say we should at least extend the offer – and by ‘we’, I mean ‘you’.”

He snagged the pen again and made a note to call his ex-wife.  “Alright.  I try and limit my exposure to cookies because I like them all.  If you want to bake, knock yourself out, but don’t add that to your overcrowded cooking lessons because of me.  Lilah’s easily bribed into being my supplier.  Just give her a pair of my dirty socks for eBay.”

Finally, Chiara giggled instead of being stressed, and stretched both hands over her head with a grin.  “You’re a brilliant man.  Have I ever mentioned that?”

“Can’t say as I recall hearing it, but that might be a nice Christmas gift.  An engraved plaque with that sentiment.”  With a wink in her direction, he continued down the list.  “I’ve always relied on Dorothea for the kids’ gifts, so I guess I’ll have to find out what they want.  I’d appreciate your help with whatever it is, and as far as gifts between us… no restrictions.”

It was just as well to make that clear from the onset.  He couldn’t work within restrictions, and if she pushed the issue by trying to enforce guidelines, he would blatantly disregard them.  This year, anyway.  Next year, they could revisit.

“Okay.”  Her casual agreement was a pleasant surprise.  “Can we schedule Christmas shopping for Monday, then?  What does your calendar look like?  And whose name did you get, by the way?  You never told me.”

“Lilah.”

"I hope you’re planning on something nice and not something that falls in line with the weird relationship you two have.  Maybe I should pick out her gift."  The teasing offer came with a glimmer of humor in her eye.

“Remind me to show you what she’s given me the past couple years,” he suggested with a meaningful look.  “You won’t be busting my chops once you’ve seen them.”

“If you say so.  What about Monday?”

Trading the notepad for an iPhone, Jon brought up the app that kept his over-scheduled life manageable.  “I’m going to have my calendar synced to your phone, so you’ll have whatever you need to know.  But Monday afternoon looks good.” 

“Okay.  We’re going shopping, then.”  Sweat socks vanished from the desk’s surface to plop lightly on the carpet.  “My boys will be home in a couple weeks.  When is Jesse done for the semester?  We need to figure out some living arrangements soon.”

“I’ll call Jess and ask him.”  Jon needed to talk to him about something else, anyway.  It wouldn’t be a big deal to add school to the list, and as far as living arrangements went...  “I think it’s easier for us to all stay here for the time being.  There’s plenty of room.”

“And it’s an hour away from Brooklyn and the whole reason my kids are staying on this coast.”

He just barely managed to stifle a sigh.  This was one of the unchecked items on his list, and the reminder wasn’t appreciated even though it did remind him that he needed to call Luke.  Flipping the sheet of paper back to his original list, Jon jotted that note down, too.  

“Okay, let me rephrase, then.  I’m happy for you and I to stay here until the holidays, if you are.  When all the boys get home, we can ask them what they want.to do.”

“Sounds like a plan.”  Her sigh wasn’t stifled as she stood and skirted to his side of the desk.  Propping one hand on the edge of it and the other on his thigh, Chiara bent to sweep sweet lips over his.  “What do you want for dinner?”

“Something you didn’t cook.”  He spoke it lightly but with sincerity.  Things were getting better in the kitchen, but there was no danger of her giving Dominick any competition for the title of chef in their family. “How about Patrizia’s?  You love the tiramisu.”

“And this is another display of your brilliance,” she complimented while patting the side of his face.  “Insult me and then distract me with dessert.  Ruthless genius.”

Jon was about to accuse her of sucking up to Santa Claus but was sidetracked by her hands – her bare hands.  “Where’s your ring?”

“On the nightstand upstairs.  All those swirls and diamond settings attract paint like little magnets, so I’ve been taking it off when I work.”

The logic was irrefutable, but it was one more fucking thing to think about and he snagged the pen before he forgot about it.  

“What’s that?”

When cutting his gaze away from the tablet, it was to find her pointing at what he assumed was his page of accomplishments in progress.  There was little concern that she could read them or decipher their meaning if she managed to, so he finished writing and set it aside. 

“Just shit for me to take care of.  In fact, I need to make a call before we go to dinner.”  With a glance down at his black Henley and jeans, he confirmed that he was presentable for the restaurant.  “I should be done by the time you change, put on shoes or whatever.  Fifteen minutes?”

“Fine, but that’s not what I was talking about.  What’s that?”

This time, she leaned over and pointed more specifically at the latest addition to the select gallery of photos on the desk’s surface.  Following the direction of her finger, his eyes slid past last year's Christmas photo of the kids and the one of his parents' anniversary to find that she was pointing at the image of her watching fireworks at Disney. 

He finally got it printed and framed this week, and it had been assigned a prominent spot on the left corner of the desk’s surface just this morning.  The finished product was just as mesmerizing to him as the moment it happened, and he’d found himself engrossed in it more than once during the day.  Maybe that’s why he hadn’t gotten much accomplished.

Lifting his eyes without knowing what kind of answer she was looking for, Jon stuck to basic facts.  “You.”

“You have a picture of me on your desk.”

“I just said that.”

There were indecipherable questions swirling in the pools of cocoa that scooted from the photo to him and back again, but the counselor didn’t give voice to any of them.  She only bent to brush her lips over his again and murmur, “Fifteen minutes.  If you’re not by the front door, I’m coming back after you.”

“Hey.”  He hooked onto an elbow to prevent her departure, undeniably intrigued by those unspoken questions.  “Over dinner, you’ll tell me what that was about?”

Her smile was as self-deprecating as the eyes that rolled high.  He couldn’t even add that to his tally, because the gesture was clearly directed at herself and not him.  “I find it sweet and unexpected to find myself there with your kids and parents.”

Good.  It wasn’t one of those convoluted woman things that made his head hurt. 

“Not my smartest move, actually.”  When she laughed with surprise and tried to extract herself from his grip, Jon held tight.  “I find myself staring at it instead of working.  You’re a distraction, and the day I end up spreading you naked on this desk to eat your pussy and fuck it raw… I’m gonna need a whole new office to get anything done.”

“We haven’t had enough sex lately.”

Her husky observation was accompanied by dilated pupils that meant his bluntness stirred arousal and not disgust.  This had been more of a comfort and cuddle kind of week for them than a fucking one, and Jon found that he was eagerly anticipating a chance to balance the scales.

“Fifteen minutes to make my call.  After that, fucking and food, in whatever order you want.  Deal?”

“Deal.”  A soft smile followed the counselor’s acquiescence and equally soft fingertips stroked Jon’s cheek.  “And in case there’s any doubt, let me reassure you that I know exactly what a lucky girl I am.  I like living with you.”

Let’s hope you still feel that way once I get through this goddamn list.

“Good.  I’ll cancel the interview with the next girl on the waiting list.  Now get the hell out of here and let me work.”  The gruff order was tempered with an affectionate pat on the rump, and the counselor contentedly flipped him the bird as she sauntered away.

Jesus Christ, he loved that woman.  Jon was too much of an ass to say it, but he liked living with her, too.  A hell of lot more than he’d dared to hope. 

After co-habitating with the same woman for thirty years with the reassurance that she was fully accepting of all his foibles and quirks, it was a bit daunting to expose his ass-scratching self to someone new.  The counselor hadn’t been grossed out so far that he could tell, nor was she uptight and walking on eggshells in his “mansion”.  Things couldn’t be going much better from his perspective.

The clock was ticking on his fifteen minutes, however, so instead of marveling at his good fortune, Jon scooped up the phone.  It only took a few swipes to find Luke’s number and initiate the call. 

“Hey.  It’s my favorite new brother!  Tell me what to get your mom for Christmas.”

Jon’s laughter refused to be bottled and he leaned forward on the desk and let it roll.  The poor schmuck had drawn the worst of the lot. 

“How about you answer some questions for me first?  Then I’ll see what I can come up with.”

“Have I mentioned how inconvenient it is that you’re not stupid?” Chiara’s brother grumbled dramatically.  “Okay.  What?”

“First of all, I need Izzie’s phone number to make sure she's coming for Christmas.  Then, more importantly…”

Jon systematically launched into his questions, hoping that Luke’s answers would provide some useful insight and open some doors he hadn’t thought to knock on yet.  There were a lot of complex things to accomplish in a very short time.

He needed all the help he could get.