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basilone · 2 days

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'Stairs' and 'homecoming' for Benny? Juno xx

Thank you for sending me this one! 💙Like we talked about when you first sent me this, this one is set post-war... Benny's homecoming, of a sort, as seen through someone else's eyes. 😉

where the heart is

Her linen skirt fans out over the stairs, obscuring its dark wood with shades of sand and dust. The little half moons of red carpet dig between her toes as she seats herself instead of walking on them. It’s sturdy carpet, almost stiff beneath her feet, that does nothing to soften the wood’s hardness.

Darlene sighs a little to herself. Leans back until the next stair lies hard against her back, steadying the low ache that’s been settling near her hips. Leans back on her elbows, even, as though she is sunning herself somewhere warm instead of indoors in misty Chicago. This is as far as she dares go in this house that’s not her own: halfway up the stairs, close to the kitchen, with another adopted stray for company.

“D’ya think she’ll smack Benny with that same spoon she was stirring with?”

“Depends,” hums Darlene, frowning a little at Stella Lombardi’s bright smile. The dark-haired woman is wobbling back and forth on the stairs in front of her, arms spread ballerina-wide, seemingly unperturbed by the noises down below. “If he gives her enough lip, maybe,” she allows, “but Ben’s always said he don’t dare do that to his mama.”

“I don’t think Mrs DeMarco is that scary.”

“You’re a Lombardi. Ain’t a thing in the world that’s scary to the likes of you.”

“There’s plenty, Darlene,” says Stella, sighing as she gives up her balancing act. “Going home wasn’t easy. Thought they wouldn’t let me out of the house anymore, but Gianluca said they can’t expect me to fall in line anymore.” Gianluca, Darlene remembers, is the eldest of the Lombardi children. Head of the family now, or so it appears. “A lot of the guys daddy thought I’d be a good marrying type for have died overseas, you know,” adds Stella, “so there’s hardly an argument against Bill and me tying the knot.”

“Does William know you’ve been talkin’ about that?”

“I’ve been hinting. Strongly.”

“Maybe ya should ask him.”

“That what you did with Benny? Ask him?”

Darlene snorts out a laugh. “Didn’t need ta do any o’ that. Boy’s been talkin’ about marryin’ me since the day we met, if Gale’s to be believed.” She thinks she can trust Gale Cleven’s word on anything, because he’s the honest sort of man who’d sooner keep silent than lie. “He’s been askin’ for a long time. Didn’t believe him, at first.” Warmth fans out into her cheeks. “I think I started to believe him right before they all crashed, ya know?”

“Not a lot of marrying you can do in a prison camp.” Stella’s arms come up to hug her knees as she gazes at Darlene. “I remember him talking about wanting to marry you, right before. Thought that was why you and Lottie had that almighty fight once Buck and him both went down.” A shadow crosses Stella’s face as the sitting room door below clicks shut. “You made it look so complicated. This falling in love thing.”

“Everything around it was, sure. But falling in love with Benny?” Darlene shakes her head. Smiles. “Easiest I ever did. Getting engaged in Italy was long overdue after all that.”

“Getting pregnant in Italy was long overdue, too,” smirks Stella, nodding at Darlene’s slightly rounded belly. “Max and me had a whole bet going about it, because you two kept disappearing in England too many times. Thought you’d run out of rubbers or something.”

“You’re kiddin’, right? With all of Dougie’s stash right there?”

“Fair point,” giggles Stella. “Think I won the bet. Max… Max doesn’t know that yet. But she’s gonna.”

Darlene’s hand squeezes Stella’s knee a moment. “Do you know where she is?”

“Nah. Not yet. Been waiting for Brady to write me back, maybe he knows. Think that’s the dumbest fucking thing about this homecoming business, though. Everybody disappearing. Marrying. Getting babies without us knowing it. Rosie said that Ham’s wife is pregnant now, and Jean Crosby’s been talking about another baby, and… I don’t know. It’s just weird.”

“Suddenly we’re back to being from everywhere.”

“Yeah. You think you’re gonna go home?”

“What, to Georgia?”

Stella nods. “Go see Lottie?”

“Lottie ain’t home to me no more,” sighs Darlene, feeling the old familiar twist in her belly at the thought. “Don’t even know if she went there. She might be in Wyoming. You said…”

“Her and Buck.”

“Yeah. I ain’t going to Georgia for my family, Frosty. You and Benny and this damn baby are all I got.”

“And the rest of us in the DeMarco clan, too,” pipes up a new voice as a soda bottle is proffered through the stair’s balusters. “Here, take it, I’ve got two more.” It’s one of Benny’s cousins – Aradia? Darlene thinks it might be – waving another bottle through as Stella takes the first. Darlene’s hand locks around the new bottle. “There you go. Bernardo’s in there telling his mama about your family right now. Makes sense you wouldn’t go out to see them.”

“What else are they saying?” asks Stella with interest, leaning forward.

Aradia sighs. “His mama’s a little snippy about the order in which he’s doing things.” Dark eyes peer up at Darlene inquisitively as Benny’s cousin rounds the staircase. “Having lots of sex before getting engaged, having a baby before marriage, gallivanting around Italy before coming home at all… I mean, I get it, Ricardo and I didn’t do things the Catholic way either,” snorts Aradia out, seating herself on the stairs below, “but Bernardo’s never been this damn crazy about a girl at all. It’s even worse that they can’t find fault in you. Think they’re gonna adopt you if Bernardo doesn’t marry you.”

“Plenty o’ fault in me,” refutes Darlene, blushing crimson. “Just what in the blazes is he tellin’ his mama? Can’t make out a damn word of what they’re sayin’ in there.” All that she can hear are muffled voices, raised just enough to not have every word be audible. “D’ya think I should…?”

“What, walk in and see the minefield?”

“Yeah?”

“Operation Rescue Benny,” laughs Stella.

“That boy hardly needs saving. Last I heard, she was telling him he’d better treat you right or else,” says Aradia, waving a lofty hand. “Something about giving you whatever you need. I walked out into the sitting room when he was telling them how much he loves you. Ricardo only says that about me when he’s drunk off his ass, and here Bernardo is…”

“I love Darlene so much, I am going to marry Darlene,” giggles Stella, “Darlene’s the prettiest, do you know how smart Darlene is, Darlene made this drawing, Darlene painted my plane, Darlene said I look good in red, Darlene Darlene Darlene…”

“Shut up!”

“No, but Lombardi’s got a point,” nods Aradia.

“Stella,” says Stella, extending a hand for Aradia to shake. “And I know what you mean, Bill doesn’t talk like that about me either.”

“Yeah? William was telling Rosie how much he likes you,” smiles Darlene, waving some cool into her heated cheeks with her hand. “Heard it myself. Waxin’ with poetry about you, he was. Said he was going to miss you, Frosty.”

“Frosty?”

“Crew nickname.”

“Right,” nods Aradia, “women flying combat…”

“Not your cuppa?” asks Darlene, seeing the slight wrinkle to Aradia’s nose. “Stella was real good at it. Lead bombardier alongside James Douglass, yeah? Ain’t a drop she can’t do. Lots of them women were aces at what they did.”

“I’d be scared of going down. Being in that camp, like Bernardo was…”

“You’re never alone, though.” Stella’s smile is minuscule, but it’s present all the same. “The guys would never have let us be on our own. And if you die in the sky, you’re carried by them. In their hearts and all.”

“D-Did anyone…?”

“Yeah. Don’t wanna talk about that, but yeah. Some of them died. Some of them were in camp with Benny. I got lucky, being in England, never going –”

Stella’s last words are drowned out by the slam of a door.

“You okay, Bernardo?”

“Ben?” asks Darlene, spotting a slightly balled fist out of the corner of her eye. “You all right?”

“Dia, go see mama,” says Benny, jerking his head at the kitchen as he gestures at Aradia. “She’s asking for you. Something about the wedding. I don’t fucking know.” He sighs. “The hell are you all sitting on the stairs for?”

“Thought we could listen in,” smirks Stella.

“I needed somewhere to sit,” corrects Darlene, groaning as she extends her legs. “Our baby’s fucking with my innards, Ben,” she announces. “Gonna be the size of a whale if this keeps up.”

“Prettiest whale in the world,” chuckles Benny, dodging a slap to his head from Aradia while she shuffles past him to the kitchen. “Mama’s fussing about you not fitting into a wedding dress. Papa’s saying he can make you one, if you want.”

“Wh… Ben…?” She swallows tears that are swimming in her eyes. “He… He said that?”

“Yeah. A DeMarco bride’s gotta look the part, right? I told him you might not want white, so you should probably… I don’t know… talk to him at dinner or something.”

“In your earshot? I think not,” she sniffles, brushing a stray tear off her cheek. “I got a dress already. Might need altering unless we marry tomorrow.”

“We could.”

“Fuck that, I haven’t got a dress for that yet,” snaps Stella, looking back and forth between them. “You are not getting married without the rest of us there to see it, you hear me? I won’t let you.” She rises to her feet. Draws herself up to her rather unimpressive height. “Little sister veto, mio fratello,” she comments archly to Benny as he ascends the stairs. “Gonna tell your mama we need to invite the crew, and Kenny, and Rosie, and Bucky and George, and –”

“Jesus Christ,” mouths Darlene as Stella rushes down the stairs and almost flies into the kitchen. She groans as the full extent of potential wedding guests begins to reel around in her brain. “So much for a small wedding, huh?”

“Italian weddings are never small, love.” Benny’s eyes crinkle as he sinks down on the stairs beside her. “Most you can hope for is that Dia stops mama from inviting the extended family. Sorry.”

“Ya don’t sound too apologetic ’bout that, Ben.”

“I like telling people I love you.”

“Oh, do ya?”

“Sure do,” he smiles, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “Crazy about you. And about our baby.”

Darlene chuckles. Drops her head onto his shoulder. “Sorry I made ya come home with little pregnant me for company, Ben. Woulda been easier for ya if that wasn’t the case.”

“What, the family? If they wouldn’t bitch about that, they’d have complained about the lack of letters or the crash or the camp or flying in a warzone or me bringing a Lombardi into the house or about Cannoli…”

“Your mama loves Cannoli,” murmurs Darlene, remembering how the woman had instantly doted on one of Meatball’s puppies. “But I hear ya. It’s different from my family, ’s all. Mine woulda chucked you outta the house and kicked me down with ya the second they saw my big belly. Keep… Keep thinkin’ yours should. Except they won’t.”

“Because they’re not assholes,” snorts Benny out irreverently, pulling her close to him. “And you look like a million bucks, Mrs DeMarco,” he whispers, kissing her cheek a second time. “Like one of those paintings you love so much.”

Her cheeks flame again. “Don’t say that!”

“Tough,” he grins, “already did.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you love me.”

“And I love ya,” she sighs, squeezing his hand. “So damn much.”

#masters of the air #mota #mota fic #mota oc #bernard demarco #oc: darlene #oc: stella #basilonewriting

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