Welcome to the Eighth Day of Christmas. My name is Giovanni Carnevale, but you can call me Vanni. I'll be your guest host today, to tell you a little about my favorite holiday.
When you grow up a poor city kid from Philadelphia, the son of a hard-working mom and abandoned by an alcoholic dad, there are very few things in life to look forward to, and Christmas was one time of the year we were all allowed to dream - and dream big. What kid didn't think about that brand new bike under the tree, or that puppy, or that video game, or that must-have toy of the year people were plowing each other over at the mall to get?
Truthfully, I had a love/hate relationship with Christmas from the time I was a little kid. I loved the promise of realized dreams, and my dreams have always been big. Back then, I just wanted my father to come home. I wrote Santa each and every year asking for only that one thing. As it turns out, it was easier to become a world-renowned rock star.
My mom tried her hardest, working her fingers to the bone to provide what little she could. How she kept presents under the tree when I know how hard she struggled to keep a roof over our heads is beyond me. The best thing my mother ever gave me, however, was the gift of family, when we moved from Philadelphia to Brooklyn to live with my great aunt Susan.
Susan had more life, more joy and more hope in her than anyone I ever met. Christmas was tailor-made for her, because she was truly an angel. She made more food than we could ever eat, so we always had neighbors in and out of our house all holiday long, enjoying good food and good conversation. Her love was so big it filled all of Bensonhurst.
Christmas finally became Christmas because of Aunt Susan. Not so surprisingly, that was when it ended too.
When I lost my beloved aunt, I knew that I lost my closest family, my biggest fan and my closest friend. It would take a Christmas several years later, when another angel fell into my life, for me to remember why I loved it so.
You probably know Andy, my beautiful and amazing wife. She's already shared her story with you. And I know you know that I don't deserve her. I never did. But she loved me anyway. She restored to me what my mother once risked everything to give me - family.
Unconditional love? Realized dreams? These are the gifts she gives me every single year.
We have kids of our own now, who have been eyeing all the gifts under the tree with all the untarnished enthusiasm a child should have when it comes to Christmas. It was everything I always wanted, and that I can do that for them now means I already have the best gifts of life that I could ever have.
I know I don't deserve them either, which is why I'm so ******* grateful every day.
You want to know what my favorite Christmas memory is? It's every single one I've had, and the hope for all of those to come. It's Christmas in general. And I hope yours is full love love, and hope, and realized dreams, this year, and every year.
Well, I kinda have to, don't I? Kind of my favorite part of playing Santa. Enjoy another long-haired rocker in I SAW MOMMY KISSING SANTA CLAUS.
I have to do this one too, simply because I'd still be a Grinch myself if Andy hadn't have made my heart grow three sizes. (Not to mention the song WHERE ARE YOU CHRISTMAS still gets me right in the feels.) Check out Ron Howard's re-imaging of HOW THE GRINCH STOLE CHRISTMAS.
I'm not much of a baker, we usually leave that up to Grandma Lydia, who has been sending me this delicious southern cake as a birthday present every year since I made an honest woman of her granddaughter.
Today's treat: ITALIAN CREAM CAKE
Due to an unexpected health issue, Ginger was unable to make the sugar cookies she had scheduled today for the #bakeitforward challenge. Brittany has volunteered to prepare some sweet decorated treats, so keep an out out for the photos on Ginger's Instagram, coming later today.
Speaking of decorated cookies, let me tell you about...
Like I said before, it isn't easy for a single mom to provide for her kids. Ginger tackles this topic in BACK FOR SECONDS, when 40-year-old Joely Morgan gets kicked to the curb by her successful, philandering husband. It goes without saying that nothing pisses me off worse than a man who skips out on his responsibilities, and leaving his family for a younger piece of ass makes him a piece of shit as far as I'm concerned.
Fortunately, however, there are plenty of men who know how to treat women out there, so she's lucky to be rid of him to make room for one, even if she can't see it at first. It's hard to see when she's struggling trying to support three kids, including a sullen teenager who wants to punish her for how much her life has changed. Add practical matters, like renting her own place, getting a job to support her kids, and Joely has her hands full.
It takes meeting a sexy Brit named Xander Davy to show her that she has everything she needs to start over again - and be happier as a result. This isn't easy for her to believe at first, but thankfully Xander isn't one to give up once he sets his sights on what he wants.
I personally like that quality.
Here's an excerpt:
Joely turned to Xander. “What’s all that about?” she wanted to know.
“What’s what about?” he asked as he popped another huge bite into his mouth. His dark eyes watched her closely.
“Playing buddy-buddy with my kids,” she replied as she took his plate and headed back toward the sink. The chair scraped against the tile as he stood and walked over to join her.
His mouth was still full when he said, “It’s called being nice.”
Her look was skeptical. “Look. They’re going through a difficult time right now,” she said.
He swallowed his last mouthful. His eyes kept hers captive as he ran his tongue around the corner of his mouth to capture any leftover frosting. “I know,” he finally said. “Your mother told me.”
Inwardly Joely groaned. That explained everything. “Great.”
He leaned against the counter. “It’s no big deal. Lillian thought maybe I could connect with Nash. He’s alone in a house full of women now. She thinks he could use a man to talk to.”
From where they stood nearly a foot apart, she could see his broad shoulders straining against the navy blue shirt he wore. His legs were long, crossed casually at the ankle, as he linked his hands and rested his elbow on the counter. Her nose filled with the scent of his cologne, a mixture of wood and spice. There was no doubt about it. He most definitely was a man. And the look in his eyes wouldn’t let her forget it. “I just,” she started but then found herself flustered and stammering. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here and I don’t want them to get attached to anything temporary. I appreciate the thought, but it’s not necessary.”
He towered over her 5’5-inch frame, studying her long brown hair and her deep brown eyes. The longer he stood without saying anything, the more nervous she got. When the tip of his thumb brushed the side of her mouth, she nearly jumped right out of her skin. Her doe eyes opened even wider as she watched him lick his thumb. “Missed a spot,” he murmured.
She was still sputtering behind him as he walked from the kitchen.
Hey, did I happen to mention it was my birthday? Yeah, let's not do the math. Instead, I'd like to give you all a gift - VANNI: A PREQUEL! My story, as told by me, before I met my beloved Andy - is, for a limited time only, just $0.99!! That means you can get the whole 4-book saga on Amazon for only $6.49!!
If you need more convincing... let me introduce you to my wonderful aunt, my angel, Susan Faustino.
Except:
When I make it home a little over an hour later, I find Aunt Susan asleep in her chair, a book opened across her lap. My heart fills with love for this woman. She’s the one who gave me the gift of music. There’s only one way to repay her. I have to make myself a huge success so that I can give her the life she deserves. No more waiting on all of us, no more struggling to make ends meet, no more worries that the roof might leak or the plumbing might fail.
I would treat her like a queen. And I knew I would always be her prince.
I kneel down beside her, propped up on my knees as I circle her generous waist with both arms. I’m holding her tight, my head on top of the book on her lap, when she stirs. “Giovanni,” she murmurs as she strokes my hair. “Did you just get home?” I nod but say nothing. “Did you have a good time?”
I lift my head to look at her. “The best.”
A tender smile appears on her face. “Good. You deserve it.”
“You deserve more,” I tell her. “And one day, I’m going to give it to you.”
“Oh, Vanni,” she says as she cups my face with that gnarled but gentle hand. “You already did.”
“I mean it,” I assert. “I wouldn’t even know to sing if it hadn’t been for you.”
She chuckles as she pulls me back into her lap to stroke my hair. I cuddle her closer. “You were born a singer, Giovanni. I just lit the way. If it hadn’t been me, the music would have found you eventually. That’s how destiny works.”
I squeeze her tightly. God, how I needed to believe that. “Do you really mean that? You’re not just saying it, right?”
She whacks me softly on the back of my head with an open palm. “You would really accuse me of lying?”
I shake my head, instantly chagrined.
“Many singers have darkened these doors. They learn all the notes. They can sing perfectly on pitch. But you, my sweet, sweet boy. You have a gift. When you open your mouth to sing, people stop to listen. They know you have something to say, something to share. That’s reason enough to share it whenever you get the chance.”
“Tony and Lori say that I should have a Plan B.”
She plays with my hair for a long moment before she says, “Tony and Lori need a Plan B. Some people just do. There’s nothing you can do about that.” She tips my chin to look me in the eye. “But this isn’t their path to walk, Vanni. You have to do what’s right for you. You follow your heart, tesorino. It will never lead you astray.”
I smile at her. “And you’ll still love me if all I’ll ever be is some low-paid singer in a bar?”
She gathers my face in her hands. “I’ll love you till my dying day and beyond, Vanni. Never question that.” There are tears in her eyes, so I wouldn’t dare. “I just want you to be happy. If chasing rainbows makes you happy, chase away. You never know when you might actually catch one.”
I chuckle as I lift up to take her into a warm bear hug. “I’ve already got my pot of gold right here.”
She laughs. “You keep sweet-talking like that and you might just become a star yet.” I know she’s teasing from the glint in her eye. “Someone has got to make it,” she says, bringing the conversation back on point. “Might as well be you.”
I nod. “It might make things hard around here for a while. There’s no steady paycheck in chasing rainbows.”
She shrugs. “We made it before. We’ll make it again. I never want to be the reason you don’t try.”
How could she think such a thing? “You’re the reason I wake up in the morning,” I tell her. Aside from my mother, Aunt Susan is the truest love of my life. “And if I make it, you’ll be the reason why.”
She grabs my chin in her hand. “When,” she corrects. “If this is what you want, then it’s up to you to make it happen. I believe in you,” she adds, which fills my heart with joy. Those are about the four best words anyone can say to another. It proves she loves me best of all.
With her on my side, I can’t lose.
I rise to my feet and pull her up to hers. “We have a big day tomorrow,” I tell her. I wrap my arm around her, pulling her close to me as I assist her to her bedroom, accepting no argument this time. “You’re my first groupie,” I tell her with a grin. “I have to take care of you.”
I make sure she is safely tucked into bed before I leave her room. I take the stairs two at a time to my room, where I can shamelessly dream of conquering the world.
Thanks for joining me today! Keep an eye on this blog, I'm sure you'll hear from old friends again before you know it.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
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