The Imperfection of Swans Read Free Page B

and green from the glow of the lights dripping from the porch. “Like I have a choice?”
    She patted his cheek. “Good boy.”
    The front door opened again, and an Italian version of Ann-Margret stuck her head out. “Get in here, you two.”
    Noelle patted his cheek once more, then followed her wife’s directive. Kevin entered dutifully behind.
    Renata Bivanti hugged him in an embrace as loving as that of Noelle, if a little more stiff. “Good to see you, love, even if it is last minute.” She shot an icy olive-hued glare at Noelle before leaning back to inspect him. She pursed her full lips. “You look tired, dear. A little puffy around the eyes. Are you okay?”
    Without waiting for a reply, she began to slip Kevin’s jacket over his shoulders. “Goodness, Kev, you’re wrinkled and overdressed. Quite the combination, I must say.” She motioned to the banistered staircase that ran up the left side of the entryway. “Go upstairs and change.” She turned to walk away, then glanced back. “Put on that light blue Burberry shirt I got you. I don’t think you’ve taken it to your place yet. It will soften those bags under your eyes.” Again she began to turn away and paused. “Oh, and please ignore the mound of Christmas decorations on your bed. Apparently Noelle decided we need an Elf -inspired mantel this year.” She gave a shudder.
    Sure enough, the bed was laden with thick piles of garlands and a host of Elf characters. The narwhal ornament was fairly cute, but Kevin had to second Renata’s reaction. He loved Noelle, even her fanatical obsession with all things Christmas. Her obsession over the movie Elf was completely lost on him. The pile of tacky Christmas crap covering his bed was a testament of how much Renata adored her wife. Kevin wasn’t sure if he’d be able to be quite that supportive, no matter how many years of marital bliss.
    As always, his mother was correct. The blue of the Burberry lessened his tired appearance. Kevin pressed a cold washcloth over his eyes a minute or two longer and then inspected his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Better. Not good enough that the others wouldn’t notice, but hopefully to the point that they wouldn’t comment. After patting his face dry, and one final deep breath, he made his way back downstairs and entered the recently remodeled kitchen and dining room combo.
    “There he is! My most handsome nephew!” Anthony set his glass of Chianti on the table and came over to give Kevin a bear hug. He was the youngest of the Bivanti siblings and came in a close second to being the most attractive. Renata held that distinction.
    “Hi, Uncle Tony.” Kevin glanced over Anthony’s shoulder. “Your husband’s not here?”
    “Nah. Rick already had plans this evening. Well, we both did, but I know better than to not show up when Renata calls.”
    “Don’t you drag me into this!” his mother called out from behind the stove, where she stood over a pot of gravy, flecks of the tomato sauce speckling her apron. “This is all Noelle and Kevin’s doing. I dare say, you all knew about it before I did!”
    Before Noelle or Kevin could respond, his aunts, Beatrice and Francesca, came over to give massive hugs of their own.
    For the next ten minutes or so, the conversations were the typical getting caught up and checking in with one another. Most of the talk was easy to navigate through on autopilot, and despite his nerves, the familiarity of it all began to lull Kevin into a state of comfort. As had been the case when he was a kid, the older generation buzzed among themselves, gossiping about the siblings who weren’t there to defend themselves.
    There were seven Bivanti siblings in all. All stair-stepped with two years between each one, now ranging from sixty-six to fifty-four. The ongoing joke was that Kevin’s grandfather Gino would give his wife a year off between each baby to “recuperate” before trying yet again for a child to carry on the Bivanti name.