Bianca Petali squeezes her eyes shut from the turbulence of the rising plane off the tarmac. What didn't help is the anticipation of the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday. Seeing Isabella again after their last fight.

Her racing heart stills from her husband's hand interlocking with hers. His fingers slowly trace the emerald and diamond jewels of her wedding ring.

"Everything will be okay," he whispers on repeat until the plane becomes level with the blue sky.

His gentle tone encourages slow and deep breaths from the former mafia queen. Her emerald eyes finally open to see his dimpled smile.

She kisses the small mole on his cheek out of appreciation. He returns one back while stroking her hand.

"You are the best," she smiles.

"You bring that out in me, mi amor," before lifting her hand to kiss it. "Try to take a nap. It will be 6 hours before we get there."

He lifts up the armrest between them and taps his knee. His breath hitches from her grabbing his crotch. 

"This could be a good way to pass the time," she smirks.

"Honey. Ah. Not in First Class," he tries to whisper.

"Don't you want to be part of the Mile High Club?"

"Not really."

She continues his torture. "Oh....why not?"

"The bathrooms are too--damn--tiny. Turbulence--ah--doesn't help."

"You know from experience?"

"When I was married to Elena," he quickly responds while trying to keep his voice down.

She withdraws her hand while smiling from the control she has over him. Miguel tries to keep his mind occupied while his wife looks at a menu. She pushes the button for the flight attendant to order sparkling champagne, smoked salmon, hard boiled eggs, and a bowl of fruit to share.

The married couple clink their glasses before digging in. Bianca almost spits up her drink from the surprising action of her husband. His fingers trace against the silk panties under her turquoise mini dress. She swallows her drink before throwing a blanket to hide his action.

He pushes aside her panties for his weapons to attack. She bites her lip to trap a moan from his payback. With his free hand, he pushes the attendant button.

"Hi. Do you have any dessert?"

While the attendant mentions the options, the thought of almost being caught makes Bianca's cave wetter. Part of her wants her to keep the attendant there to watch Bianca ride her husband.

"Honey? Honey? What do you think of Baklava with the ice cream?" He continues to tease her.

"That--hmm--sounds good."

"We will have that to share, please. Along with more napkins."

The attendant walks away. After finishing her drink, she grips the armrest from the quick pumping of his fingers.

He nears her face. "My naughty wife likes to get caught?"

"I will --ah fuck--get back at you for that."

"Think you will be quiet when the dessert comes?"

His emphasis makes her shudder for more. Her body writhes in pleasure from his loving fingers attacking her G-spot.

She breathes a sigh of relief that the dessert had arrived before she did. Her moan would have turned into a scream for all to hear. His fingers exit her cave when the attendant left. Bianca takes those fingers and licks them clean with tempting emeralds.

"A good girl deserves a reward."

He takes a piece of baklava with some vanilla ice cream and feeds it to her.

She lets the ice cream stay on her lips before licking it away. "Hmmm. Almost equal to what you did to me."

They begin to fight with their spoons over the last piece until he surrenders it to her. With satisfied stomachs, she rests her head on his lap. But she doesn't get her revenge. His hands stroke through a sea of amber to lull her to sleep.

"Mi esposo, what will you make for Thanksgiving? I need to let Maria know."

"Hmm. I'm thinking a sweet potato pie and turkey bacon wrapped shrimp. What about you?"

She yawns. "Baked mac and cheese."

"I bet it tastes just as great as your lasagna."

"It is."

"It will be a good day. I love you, mi amor."

"Ti amero sempre (I'll always love you)," before she dozes off.

Miguel rests his head back, thinking of all the things that led them together. He closes his eyes. "Thank you, Elena. For allowing me to fall in love again."

Beep, beep. Beep, beep.

Miguel wakes up from the timer on his watch. One hour left to go before their plane lands. He strokes the cheeks of a luscious flower on his lap to wake her up. She stirs awake but doesn't want to leave the comfortable spot.

"We're almost there."

"5 more minutes," she begs.

"As you wish, mistress."

He sets his watch for eight minutes. A little extra time doesn't hurt.

After getting off the plane and entering the room of the Monterey Park Hotel, the former El Segador is surprised to find a bucket of chilled champagne along with a plate of dark chocolate tipped strawberries on the table.

"Told them we got married," Bianca explains.

He feeds a strawberry to his wife. "You really know how to spoil a guy," he jokes.

She licks around the tip before biting down on it. She feeds him one before their lips reunite.

He quickly double locks the door before their clothes drop to the floor. Champagne drips on their favorite body parts before they get licked clean...

The massaging jets of their indoor jacuzzi reward them for their hard work. The scents of lilac and lavender relax their senses and follow them into their white bathrobes. Ordering loaded cheeseburgers and fries while watching a romantic movie relieves some of the stress in Bianca Petali.

"Mio marito (My husband), thank you for everything. For being my peace through all of this."

He kisses her forehead. "You do the same for me, mi flor (my flower)."

She clings to him. "I hope Isabella likes you."

"It will take time since I'm new to her. I will be patient."

She kisses his forehead back. "You will be a great father."

"And you're already a great mom."

Hearing that validation brings her to tears.

He gently wipes her tears away while kissing the top of her head. "Everything will be okay. Just be patient with her."

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Her black butterfly sequin dress stops flowing. Her finger hesitates from ringing the doorbell.

Miguel adjusts the trays of mac and cheese, pie, and shrimp to hold her hand. A gentle squeeze lends her the courage to push through.

The hickory door of the red two-story house opens. Maria greets them in her dark green dress that exposes her arms to the crisp autumn winds. Her brown hair is tied in a ponytail that matches the color of her eyes.

"Bianca! Miguel! Come inside."

"Nice to meet you, Maria. Where can I put the food?"

She points to the kitchen counter to the right. Their food joins their allies of mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, a deep-fried turkey, and a pumpkin pie cheesecake.

Maria hesitates to embrace Bianca because of what happened between them. The former mafia queen embraces her to her shock.

"It's time we moved on. You and your house look great."

"T-Thank you. You do as well. I'm..sorry for what happened."

"It's okay."

She notices the dual jeweled wedding ring on her hand. "This is so beautiful! Your husband is a great man."

"Just keep your hands off of him." Her dark tone turns into a laugh that breaks the tension. "You should have seen your face!"

Maria lets out a chuckle. "I'm-I'm just focused on raising Thomas. I don't want him to be in that field of work. I already told him about his dad and you."

Bianca is relieved that he won't be blindsided. "That's good. Where is he and Isabella?"

"Backyard practicing his pitch. Are you hungry?"

"I am. Can't wait to dig in."

Maria calls out to Isabella and Tommy to come inside. Miguel's fingers stroke Bianca's hand for strength upon his return. 

She gasps upon seeing the ten-year-old. Black hair that forms a widow's peak. Soft cheeks. And his wide smile that reminds her of her husband. Mud-brown eyes with flecks of honey in them. Despite the casual baseball attire, he really is his father's son.

"Tommy, this is Mr. and Mrs. Petali."

"You can call me Miguel or Mike if you want," he greets him with a fist bump.

Instead, the boy offers his hand. "Nice to meet you, Miguel."

Miguel smiles and shakes his hand. "Very polite. Your mom taught you well."

"She sure did. Can we play catch later? I have a game next week."

"Only if it's good with your mom."

"It's fine."

Tommy also offers his hand to Bianca for a shake.

She accepts his hand. "I'm Bianca."

Isabella slowly steps into the room. Her chocolate brown sweater lays over her blue jeans. A rubber band rests on her right wrist that has seen better days. Her emerald eyes meet her mother and her new husband.

Time almost freezes in the room.

"Hi, Isabella," Bianca breaks the silence.

A smile creeps on her face. "Hi, mom."

The former mafia queen wants to close the distance and hug her, but she reminds herself to be patient. "You look nice."

"Thanks. Rehab has been going well."

"She also made the pumpkin pie cheesecake for today," Maria interjects to encourage the healing process.

"That sounds delicious. You are probably a way better chef than me," Miguel compliments.

"I try."

"Oh, this is my husband, Miguel," Bianca introduces him.

Isabella's eyes look up and down at him. "Nice to meet you."

Maria leads them to the dining room table. The walls are adorned with Tommy's upbringing. His crawling stage. Him resting in his mother's arms. And playing his first baseball game.

Each person says grace appreciating what they are grateful for. For Miguel, his wonderful wife and the future ahead of him. For Bianca, her husband, health, and leaving her past behind her. For Maria, her son who gives her some trouble, but is good to her and everyone around him. For Tommy, his mom, baseball, and his new big sister.

For Isabella, she mentions her health, Maria's help, Tommy, and going back to school in the area.

Despite the pain of not being mentioned, Bianca lets it slide. She's not ready yet. Don't rush it.

Maria carves the turkey and gives each person a piece before herself. Scoops of potatoes, casserole, macaroni, and pie land on their plates. After the first sitting, Tommy drags Miguel outside to practice his pitch.

Bianca watches from the door as the ball is tossed back and forth between their gloves.

"Good catch! Now go far!"

Tommy backs up while looking forwards. Miguel lobs it in the air. Tommy runs to the left and dives while catching it in his glove. His white paints earn the grass stains on them.

"Great job! You're a natural!"

Bianca smiles from them playing. He's already a great dad. Our family will be blessed.

After a few rounds of catch, they go back inside to eat...

Tommy pats his stomach. "I can't eat another bite."

"You will find room later," Miguel groans.

"Your cheesecake was delicious, Izzie," Bianca mentions.

"Thanks, mom," she smiles.

"Who wants to watch football?" Maria suggests with the remote in her hands.

Tommy jumps up. "I do!"

"I will help clean up, Maria," Miguel offers.

She motions him to the TV room. "Enjoy yourself. I got it."

"I will help her, esposo," his wife tells him.

"Okay," he smiles.

The women clean up the table, but Isabella joins Tommy in the room. Miguel lounges on the couch and selects the game. The Chargers are playing against the Detroit Lions with the Lions receiving the kickoff.

"Who's your team, Tommy?"

"Chargers!" He yells with pride.

"And you, Isabella?"

"Don't really follow sports."

He pumps his fist into the air. "Then let's go, Chargers!"

Isabella conceals her smile from the genuine effort to connect. During a break, she asks to speak with Miguel alone in her room. He leaves the door a crack open.

She shuffles her feet, nervous of what to ask him. He lets her take her time.

"How...do you know my mom?"

Miguel replies with honesty. That he used to be a hitman before becoming a florist. And how that changed when her mom needed his help to live. 

"I'm glad that we met. I'm so lucky to have her."

"I guess you didn't mind what she did."

"Not at all. Been used to that stuff for a while. But she did express regret."

Her lips quiver. "She did?"

He nods. "Everything she did was for you and yet she lost sight of you. It happens to the best of people."

"How old are you again?"

"I'm 26. I know. The age difference is over 10 years, but we love each other genuinely."

"Why do you love her?"

"She makes me smile. I could swear her emerald eyes sparkle when she laughs. And she helped me when I was at my lowest. And I did the same for her."

Isabella assumes the last part was in reference to her. Her eyes look down.

"You were right to be mad about not being told the truth." His comment surprises her. "It doesn't excuse the words, but you needed honesty so you would know how to handle it."

An easy silence sits between them. 

"Is she serious about leaving the mafia?"

"She is. She wants nothing to do with that anymore. Luis does offer some legitimate protection as a final favor to her. But that's it. She said she might pursue modeling or fashion."

Isabella grins. "She would be great at that."

"She would. Any other questions you have?"

"Did you lose people you loved back in your prior job?"

His dark chocolate eyes look down before a slow exhale. He mentions his brother and niece, sister-in-law, his wife, and their unborn child. Tears stream down her face. He offers her a clean napkin which she takes. 

"I'm so sorry," she sniffles.

"It still hurts, but she helped me through the hard part. I will see them again when my time has come."

His dimpled smile gives her hope. He opens the door. "When you're ready, come down and finish the game." He closes it to give her peace.

The young Petali processes his words. He's not so bad. 

Tommy runs around the room shouting the touchdown from his favorite team. Isabella laughs from her little brother's behavior.

Pink and orange streaks cross the sky. Brown and orange leaves scatter from the wind. Several trays of leftovers are in Miguel and Bianca's hands. 

"Are you sure you don't want to stay the night? We have plenty of room here."

"I can't. It would be too soon for my child," Bianca replies with a somber smile. At least we saw each other.

"Well, come again at any time."

"Thanks, Maria. Be good to your madre, Tommy. Listen to her every word," Miguel advises.

"Mom, can't they stay for my game?"

Miguel looks at his wife for her decision.

She shakes her head. "We have to return home after tomorrow."

He doesn't argue with her. There wasn't a need to hurry back, but she doesn't want to encroach on Isabella's space.

Tommy kicks the floor. "Aww, man!"

"You will be great out there. Just keep practicing," Miguel raises his spirits. The boy smiles from his words of encouragement.

Before the couple leaves for their rental car--

"MOM! Wait!"

Bianca turns to her voice. Isabella runs down the stairs with a heavy heart. Maria brings Tommy inside to give them privacy while Miguel takes the food from Bianca. Her daughter's lips quiver while fighting back tears. 

Her arms latch around her mother. The dams of her eyes break loose. 

"I appreciate you! For everything. You are so strong for what you went through. You did everything to make sure I wouldn't feel pain like that again. I love you, mom!"

Bianca's body trembles before embracing her daughter. Tears hit the pavement like bullets between the Petali women. She rubs her daughter's back while Miguel smiles from the reconciliation.

The sixteen-year-old gently puts space between them. Akin to a mirror, emerald eyes gaze back at each other.

"Will you be my mom again?"

She holds her close with a kiss on the forehead. Her heart feels lighter than air. "Of course, mia fragolina."

Isabella looks to Miguel and waves him over to join the embrace. "You're family too."

His dark chocolate eyes almost melt while he walks over to embrace his wife and new daughter.

The hug almost lasts for 30 minutes before the cruel autumn winds push them inside the house. After another round of leftovers, Bianca and Isabella in their pajamas have a heart to heart of what to do next.

"My child, I think you should stay here."

"W-What?"

"You deserve a new life away from the past. Maybe...if you like this idea...maybe I could find a home nearby. I need a fresh start--"

She's cut off by her daughter's embrace.

"I like it a lot."

"Okay. Is the pizza any good here?"

Her daughter laughs. "There are some good Italian places here. Fresh baked dough too."

"Perfetto (Perfect). Let's celebrate once we get the new place. I love you, Isabella."

"I love you too, mama."

The Petali women sleep in the same bed while Miguel sleeps on the couch with a smile. His heart bounces with joy that his wife's heart is now whole.