Work Text:
“Are you gonna miss working together?”
Sonny looked up from his desk, where he had his feet up, a case file in one hand and the bear claw Amanda had brought him in the other. He appeared thoughtful for a moment, chewing, then nodded. “Yeah, I am.”
Settled in the corner of the uncomfortable but familiar couch in his office, Amanda had her legs tucked beneath her as she worked her way through her own set of case files. They needed four women to testify that they had been assaulted by the same college professor after a fifth girl had shown up at the precinct recently - she had made it clear she wouldn’t speak up on her own. Their faces were clipped to the front of the heavy file folders Amanda had carried into One Hogan Place, along with big cups of fresh coffee and Sonny’s favorite pasty. She looked down at one of the pictures in her lap: a 20-year-old girl stared up at her with hollow eyes.
Toying with the necklace sitting at her collarbone, she watched Sonny, watching her. Her lower lip stuck out in a pout. “I hated when you left SVU.”
He gave her a knowing look as he set down the bear claw and dusted crumbs off his hands. “You weren’t shy about that.”
“You wanna give me the same treatment?” Amanda challenged him provocatively.
“Nah.” He swung his feet off his desk and entwined his fingers loosely atop the surface instead. Leaning forward, he smiled at her. “I want you to be happy.”
Amanda smirked. “I told you the same thing, didn’t I?”
“Amanda.” Sonny rolled his eyes. “This is the right thing for you to do.”
“I did want you to be happy, you know,” she sighed, tossing the file folders in her lap onto the leather cushion beside her. She offered Sonny a sheepish smile. “At the time I just felt like you were leavin’ me, not the job.”
“Now you can’t get rid of me,” Sonny grinned.
Her own smile widened. She toyed with a strand of her hair, lazily twirling it around her finger in thought. “What are we gonna argue about now, without work?”
“The unreasonable amount of closet space you take up?” he jested.
Amanda’s mouth fell open in mock indignation. “How about how many towels you use after one shower?”
“Okay, how about how you never rinse your dish off before puttin’ it in the dishwasher?” He added, “if it even makes it to the dishwasher.”
She took a moment to think of something else she could take issue with: “you snore.”
He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, appearing satisfied. “I think we’re good.”
xxx
A gigantic balsam fir stood proudly in the corner of the Carisi family home. At almost 8 feet tall, the tree was lush and full in their living room, waiting to be decorated by Jesse and Billie that Sunday evening. Sonny and his father painstakingly untangled strings of multicolored lights before weaving them between branches, Jesse eager to help despite her clumsy, inexperienced fingers. Whenever the two men were together, Amanda was always listening for agitation in one of their voices: she knew that beneath the love they had for each other, there was old tension simmering borne of a lifelong disconnect. Time and age had smoothed over most of the harsh edges, just like it had with Amanda and her mother, but every now and then something bubbled up to the surface. It was the holiday season, though, and it seemed as if that made everything fuzzy with joy.
While they fiddled with the lights, Amanda unwrapped big cardboard boxes of ornaments with Serafina on the couch. Billie sat between them, eyes wide with excitement as she watched the delicate glass bobbles emerge from their newspaper and Styrofoam packaging. It was clear that Serafina had been collecting the ornaments for years - these weren’t decorations she had grabbed from Target - which was why Amanda’s gaze was mostly on her toddler’s fingers, making sure she didn’t drop or crush anything. When Dominick Sr. finally announced that all of the lights were strung to his liking, both little girls dove into the box of ornaments, ignoring all of Amanda’s pleas of go easy and one at a time.
“I wanna put one high!” Billie chirped, arms straining upward toward the tree.
“High?” Dominick Sr. repeated, grin wide and eyes glinting with a mischief Amanda had seen in his son’s before. He swept the toddler off her feet in an instant, Billie shrieking with glee as she soon became tall enough to reach the very top branches.
Amanda and Serafina stood back, surveying, both of them watching for rolling ornaments, missing hooks or sibling squabbles.
“Dom and I are so proud of you, Amanda. Gettin’ that job at Fordham, look at you,” Serafina gushed.
Amanda felt her face flush with embarrassment; of course Sonny had told his parents. She hadn’t even told her own mother - she didn’t want to endure a nosy conversation about her pension (which she didn’t need yet, because of her new, generous salary, thank you very much). She shook her head. “Oh, no, please. It’s nothing.” Her eyes flickered away from Serafina’s: Sonny and Jesse were circling the tree in search of the perfect branch for a police car ornament, Jesse giggling uncontrollably every time he picked one that she didn’t approve of.
“It’s not nothing!” Serafina insisted. She positioned herself directly in front of Amanda. She lowered her voice slightly: “You know, since the very first day Sonny ever mentioned you, he was so impressed by you. ‘She’s so quick, so smart…’” She reached up and patted Amanda’s cheek lovingly. “I’m proud of all my children. You’re no exception.”
Her blue eyes met Serafina’s again. Amanda felt her whole upper body tightening, warming, but she wasn’t in distress - she was overwhelmed by the sudden affection she had for the woman standing before her, saying words she had never heard from her own family. Like any human being, Serafina had her flaws: she could be overbearing, she could be rigid in her beliefs, but she was loving. Being a mother was Serafina’s entire identity. Her children were the best parts of her - and there she was, in her living room, telling Amanda Rollins that she was one of them.
Amanda bit the inside of her lower lip and shifted on her socked feet. All she could manage to do was smile and nod; she was afraid if she opened her mouth, she might cry, because she could feel tears burning her eyes and if she blinked, they would certainly fall. Thankfully, Serafina was content to give the apple of Amanda’s cheek a squeeze and was then sufficiently distracted by Billie trying to crawl on top of the coffee table to get a better view of the ornaments.
She took the opportunity to escape. Amanda slipped out of the living room unnoticed, passed through the dining room, and ended up in the kitchen, which was cool and quiet and removed from the activity. She pulled a clean glass from the strainer by the sink, filled it up with water and gulped it down before setting it aside. She let out an exhale and leaned back against the countertop. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her head back, gazing up at the ceiling.
How the hell did I get here?
Georgia seemed so far away. She didn’t ever miss it, not really. Loganville came back to her in bits and pieces, out of nowhere, when she heard an accent or an opinion that didn’t quite fit in to New York City’s day-to-day. Sometimes when she was in bed after a long shift, if her heart rate was still high and her breathing was still quick, she could hear her father screaming or see her mother cowering or feel the way her fingers used to hold Kim’s so tightly as they hid terrified in their tiny shared bedroom. She would remember the searing hot disgust burning in her chest when she looked at Beth Anne Rollins all tremulous and wounded, how she had vowed to never, ever be weak like her. She would remember the conflict that roiled inside her when she saw Jim Rollins disappear into the night: she was terrified of him, but she was desperate for him to return, too, because he was her daddy and at least when he was around, it meant she was worth staying for.
It was never going to go away, all those jagged pieces of her, so she had to live around them. Sonny had helped her do that. He had shown Ananda that she could be imperfect and worthy of love as she muddled through her own version of growing pains. He had shown her that disagreeing didn’t mean anybody punched walls or spat insults or gave up because it was hard. He had shown her that being a parent was less about biology and more about behavior.
What Amanda hadn’t expected was that his entire family would do a lot of those things, too. Not just for her – but for her children. The Carisis exhibited the kind of affection she never imagined was real outside of sitcoms and Hallmark movies. His mother prayed for her on Sundays and sent over Tupperware filled with dinners to reheat after long days. She tucked her children into bed on weekends so Amanda and Sonny could spend a night or two uninterrupted. His father let Jesse pretend to drive his car and snuck Billie Oreos before breakfast. He sent Sonny emails containing lengthy articles and his own stream of consciousness about saving for retirement or a house, the subject line always read!! for you and Amanda!!! Their love was consistent, reliable, without condition – something that before Sonny, Amanda had never experienced.
“‘Manda? You okay?”
Amanda jerked her head forward at the sound of Sonny’s voice. She had no idea how long she had been standing in the kitchen, lost in her own thoughts. She tucked her hair behind her ears and blinked him into focus: he had rolled the sleeves of his plaid button down up past his elbows, so she assumed the decorating was getting serious. “I’m alright. Just needed a glass of water.” She reached a hand out to him and smiled. “Come give me a hug.”
Sonny’s mouth twitched into a smirk before he closed the space between them, wrapped his arms around her and tugged her close. “What’s this for?”
She fit her body against his like a puzzle piece slotting into place; it knew just where to go. Without shoes on, her cheek rested just below his shoulder. “Can’t I just hug you?” she queried him playfully.
“Yeah,” Sonny chuckled, tightening his arms around her. “Yeah, yeah, you can.”
Arms around his torso, Amanda tilted her head back and chin up to look up at him. He was smiling down at her in the way he often did: like he was simultaneously in awe and just a little bit amused by her. “I’m so glad I’m here.”
Sonny raised an eyebrow and appeared confused. “Where else would you be?”
She shook her head, still smiling, not feeling the need to explain the journey her mind had taken her on just moments earlier in his childhood kitchen. “Doesn’t matter,” she assured him. “This is where I’m supposed to be.”
“When’d you turn into such a sap, Rollins?” he teased her before dipping his head and giving her a kiss.
“Must be sexually transmitted,” she mumbled sarcastically against his lips.
Sonny laughed into another kiss and squeezed her body in closer to his.
Serafina’s delighted voice interrupted them: “Oh, there you two are! Look at you lovebirds, I can hardly stand it.”
They pulled apart, but only slightly: Sonny kept one arm loosely around Amanda’s waist and she kept herself tucked against his side, not quite ready to let him go completely. She watched his mother move around the kitchen, pulling out containers of cookies she had baked earlier in the day and beginning to arrange them on a platter at the counter.
“Speaking of…” his mother continued, “what’s going on with this wedding, hm?”
“We’ve been talkin’ about it…” Sonny ventured cautiously.
“And?” Serafina pushed
Sonny’s eyes flickered over to Amanda’s, but if he was expecting her to say something, he was going to be disappointed. Getting the hint, he turned his attention back to his mother: “We’re gonna do it sooner rather than later, probably.”
Serafina stopped arranging cookies. She narrowed her gaze on Amanda. “Are you pregnant?”
“Ma!” Sonny exclaimed, mouth hanging open in shock. “Are you kiddin’ me?”
Amanda felt color bloom across her chest and neck. She pressed her lips together in a line to try to keep from laughing out loud and toyed with one of the tendrils of hair that escaped her ponytail and framed her face.
“It’s just a question,” Serafina insisted.
“I’m not pregnant,” Amanda told her.
“You can tell me,” Serafina went on earnestly. “I swear, I won’t tell anybody else until-“
“First of all, you have a huge mouth,” Sonny interrupted her with a dismissive wave of his hand. “And second of all, nobody’s pregnant.”
His mother visibly deflated. “Then what’s the rush?”
“We just really wanna include everybody from work-“
Serafina’s eyes widened in horror. She set her hands on her hips. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna do it at that dreadful courthouse surrounded by criminals-”
“Ma-“
“Is there gonna be a priest?”
“You’re missin’ the point-“
“It’s really important to me – to us – to do it this way,” Amanda interrupted Sonny and his mother, voice just a little louder than either of theirs. She extracted herself from Sonny’s side, pulled in a deep, steadying breath and continued: “Just, before I leave SVU. The squad’s been like a family to me for a really long time and I really want to – need – to include them in this.” She paused, then added, “plus… for the girls, it’s important, too.”
Serafina crossed her arms over her chest. For a moment, no one said anything, and Amanda wondered if she shouldn’t have spoken up. She respected Serafina’s role in the Carisi family – even if she didn’t always agree with her point of view – and she certainly didn’t want to be on her bad side. Sonny had so much reverence for his mother, which Amanda found admirable, and she knew that her approval meant the most to him.
“Promise me something, please?” Serafina eventually sighed, and Amanda felt a rush of relief.
“Okay,” Amanda and Sonny answered in unison.
“At least let me plan you a real wedding here in Staten Island, at St. Paul’s, too,” she pleaded. She gripped Sonny’s forearm, “you’re my only son.” She reached for Amanda’s arm next, so she was holding on to both of them in her desperation. “You deserve this, a big party.” Her eyes were wide with hope. “Please?”
Amanda cast a glance over at Sonny, who initially looked exasperated, but she could see him slowly softening. She shrugged: all she cared about was being married to Sonny. The idea of doing it twice? That seemed like the best case scenario.
xxx
Bloomingdale’s was bustling that Friday afternoon. Amanda held Billie’s hand tightly and kept a close eye on Jesse, who was one step ahead, as they wove through the busy department store. It was glittering with holiday decorations: both little girls’ eyes were wide with delight as they took in the bright colors, larger-than-life teddy bears and huge ornaments. The displays were how Amanda had convinced her daughters to go inside; it was not the real reason they were there.
“Ooh!” Amanda heard Billie say, then out of the corner of her eye saw the little girl snatch up a crystal-encrusted, red-bottomed high heel off of a table from the shoe section they were passing.
“I don’t think so.” Amanda carefully pried the nine-hundred-dollar shoe from Billie’s hand and set it down next to its mate.
“Please,” the toddler pleaded, arm straining backwards as her mother tugged her forward.
“Not till I get a pair,” she snorted. “C’mon, keep walking.”
The bridal section of Bloomingdale’s was elegant and serene. Amanda watched awe cross Billie’s face as she took in her surroundings; the posed mannequins in sweeping gowns must have looked ten feet tall to her. She kept both girls close as she made her way to one of the registers, making sure neither of their wandering hands grabbed at silken fabrics or left fingerprints on clean cases displaying tiny evening bags or ostentatious tiaras.
“Wow. Look at all the princesses!” Billie breathed.
“They aren’t princesses, they’re brides, Billie,” Jesse corrected her younger sister.
Once Amanda had the black garment bag in hand from the sales associate, she looked down at her daughters. “C’mon, girls. I gotta try this on, make sure they fixed it right.”
Obediently, Jesse and Billie followed her into the dressing room and into the largest stall available. Amanda hung up the big nylon bag before she shimmied off her coat and purse. In the reflection of one of the mirrors, she could see Billie moving toward her handbag, ready to dig through it to find her phone, but she was too distracted to care. It wasn’t as if the dress was a surprise - she picked it out just a week ago - but she really liked it, and she was eager to see it again.
When she unsheathed the dress from all its wrappings, it looked perfect, just like she remembered it: flawless cream fabric, mock neck, dramatic sleeves, darting in all the right places. It had just required a bit of hemming. Knowing very well that she only had Jesse and Billie’s attention span for a certain period of time, she quickly shed her clothing and carefully slipped into the dress, snaking an arm around her back to maneuver the zipper up.
“Billie, pull the shoes outta there for mama,” she instructed her youngest, who was already in the process of emptying everything from her purse anyway.
A pair of nude pumps appeared on the floor with a ‘thud.’ Amanda shoved her feet into them, teetered momentarily, then turned to look at herself in the large bay of mirrors. Her heart skipped with excitement as she studied her reflection: she looked pretty. She looked happy. So many years spent wondering what this day would be like, if it would ever come for her, convinced it would remain a secret, shameful fantasy rather than something she was worthy of desiring. Amanda smoothed a hand over the fabric at her abdomen, but there was nothing to fix, nothing to adjust – it was perfect.
Jesse peered from around Amanda’s hip and met her eyes in the mirror. “You look like an angel, mama,” she told her reverently.
“So you think I should get it?” Amanda grinned.
“Yes!” Jesse squealed with an accompanying hop.
“Uh huh!” Billie agreed from her spot on the floor.
She looked between her children - her two beautiful daughters, both of them healthy and strong and brimming with shared excitement - and clapped her hands together: “I guess it’s settled then.”
xxx
Amanda awoke to the distant sound of Jesse and Billie bickering in the living room. She shifted beneath the cocoon of sheets she was wrapped in and tried to find sleep again, but after a moment or two, she knew it was futile. She couldn’t quite hear what either girl was saying, but it wasn’t loud enough for her to feel compelled to intervene, so she appreciated how heavy her limbs felt and the way her mind was just fuzzy enough not to register the time or day.
“Y’hear that?” She heard Sonny grumble from the other side of the bed.
His voice was enough to nudge her into a full state of awareness. She flopped over onto her back and rubbed at her eyes. “Leave it.”
Sonny grunted in response, then she felt him roll over. He maneuvered his way across the mattress until he could lay against her side, an arm flung across her torso, his face nuzzled into the crook of her neck. He planted a kiss on her cheek before settled back down. “You sleep okay?”
Eyes closed, Amanda smiled, enjoying the sensation of his weight against her body and his warm breath on the delicate skin of her neck. A hand trailed up the lean muscle of his arm, slipping underneath the sleeve of his t-shirt to rest against his bicep. “I’m still sleeping.”
He responded with a low chuckle and wriggled closer. She felt him hook their ankles together beneath the sheets. His feet were cold and she thought about chastising him for that, but she had a lifetime to tease him about all of things she pretended bothered her but she really, truly couldn’t exist without.
Amanda blinked her eyes open slowly. She saw Frannie curled up at the end of the bed, looking at her with her face between her paws. It was a sight she woke up to most mornings, unless the dog was already following her daughters around.
“Y’know what today is?” she eventually asked Sonny.
“Nope,” Sonny yawned.
She scrabbled at the mattress to pull herself up into a sitting position, effectively dislodging Sonny from his spot against her side. She watched him as he followed suit, hauling himself up to sit beside her. “My last day as Amanda Rollins.”
“Huh?” He looked confused as he scraped a hand through his messy hair, then his eyes widened as her statement registered with him. “Oh.”
She started nibbling at the skin around her thumb nail, looking over at Sonny out of the corner of her eye as she turned the concept over in her head.
“Alright,” Sonny heaved a sigh and cocked his head so he could look at her. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. The opposite, actually,” she answered him, tone light despite the worry her thoughtful silence must have stirred up in Sonny. She leaned her head back against the pillows piled up behind her and lolled it to the side to gaze at him; he was intently studying her. “When Al proposed to me I felt the most… the most awful sense of dread. Honestly, I don’t know what was worse: the nausea that comes from bein’ in labor or how sick I felt from knowing that I had just made the worst decision of my entire life.”
“Wasn’t too great over on this side of things, either,” Sonny mumbled with a roll of his eyes.
She gave him a pointed look.
“Hey, are you gettin’ to the part of the story where you tell me you aren’t about to go all Runaway Bride on me?” Sonny quipped.
“First of all, you know I like that movie,” Amanda reminded him, turning her body to face him completely. “Second of all, if you were paying attention when I made you watch that movie-“
“I was not.”
“-you would know that Julia Roberts actually marries Richard Gere, the most handsome and interesting guy she has ever been engaged to, once she figures herself out.”
He narrowed his gaze on her like he was skeptical, but the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth betrayed him. “Smooth, Rollins.”
“Carisi,” she corrected him slyly.
The grin on Sonny’s face widened, brightening all of his tired features. She felt his hand slide across her thigh beneath the comforter, then he gave the muscle a squeeze. “Don’t forget to do the paperwork.”
A little giggle bubbled up from her - it was like all the happiness she was feeling couldn’t be contained inside of her body, so it came out in one perfectly girlish noise - and she leaned in, cupped his stubbly jaw with her hand and kissed him.
Sonny met her kiss with enthusiasm, his mouth warm and eager on hers. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, their noses knocking together. “We should talk to the girls, make sure they really understand what’s goin’ on tomorrow.”
She nodded. She always appreciated Sonny’s dedication to protecting Jesse and Billie from any kind of hurt, real or imaginary. Allowing her hand to fall from his cheek to his shoulder, Amanda rolled her head away from his before she called out to both girls: “Jesse, Billie, get in here!”
“Billie was touching the Christmas tree, not me,” Jesse blurted breathlessly the moment she burst through the door. “I told her not to.”
“When did you become such a rat, huh?” Sonny teased her as he sat up straighter.
“I’m being honest,” Jesse insisted haughtily.
“And we love that about you,” Amanda promised her eldest with a grin. She reached forward and patted the comforter. “Come sit here, please.”
Jesse jumped onto the bed and sat directly in front of her mother, tucking her long hair behind her ears in anticipation.
“I was just fixin’ the decorations,” Billie announced as she barreled into the bedroom. She launched herself onto the mattress and landed right on top of Frannie, who was so used to being wrestled with that she barely flinched. She rolled off the dog with a giggle.
Amanda cringed at the idea of the Christmas tree - which had been far from perfect but at least all the ornaments were hanging from the branches - after Billie’s ‘adjustments.’ “I’m sure.”
“Are we in trouble?” Jesse asked, looking between Sonny and Amanda anxiously.
“I dunno yet, I haven’t seen the living room,” Amanda cringed. Her expression softened, “but we wanna check in with you about something.”
Sonny reached out to settle Billie’s wiggling feet; Amanda noticed that she was only wearing one sock. “D’you understand what’s happening tomorrow?”
“I get to wear my dress!” Billie exclaimed, immediately sitting upright with the realization.
“Yeah, you do,” he laughed. He gave her foot a jostle. “What else?”
“You’re getting married,” Jesse answered earnestly; she loved being right.
“You are getting married and then you have a baby,” Billie added quickly.
Amanda exchanged a glance with Sonny; he looked amused. “Close, Billie. You are both already my babies.”
“When a mom and a dad get married, they have a baby,” Billie insisted, clearly reciting what traditional books and television taught children.
“Sometimes, yeah, that can be true. Lots of different people have babies,” Amanda explained carefully. She wasn’t quite ready to transition into a conversation about how Jesse and Billie came to be outside of marriage. “But you can also get married and not have a baby.”
“But-”
“So after tomorrow,” Jesse interrupted her sister, thankfully. “What’s gonna be different?”
“Nothing,” Sonny jumped back in. “That’s what we wanted to talk to you about. We wanted to make sure you understand nothing’s gonna change.”
“So… everything’s gonna be same.”
“Yeah.”
Jesse bent her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees. “That’s good. I don’t want things to be different.”
“Can you say a little more about that, Jess?” Amanda prompted her gently.
Jesse shrugged. “I like having a mom and a dad.” She rested her chin atop her knees and appeared almost bashful. “I want it to be this way forever.”
Amanda looked over at Sonny, whose eyes were wide and jaw was slack. She knew in that moment he was overcome by the same intensity of feeling she had for Jesse – for Billie, too – because being a parent was an all-consuming kind of love. Sometimes, like right then, it took her breath away.
“C’mere.” Sonny reached out for Jesse, beckoning her over to his lap, and she immediately crawled toward him. He curled an arm around her petite shoulders and she tucked herself into his side, then he used his other arm to wave Billie over with a grin: “you too, ya little monster.”
Billie clambered over to Sonny with a giggle, wiggling all of her limbs until her head was on her sister’s legs and she was gazing up at him spread out like a starfish across his lap. Amanda picked up one of her feet – the sock-less one – and gave the arch of it a kiss, prompting another bout of laughter from the toddler.
Sonny looked down between the two girls. “That’s what marriage is: it’s forever,” he explained, “and makin’ sure everybody knows it.”
“Everybody?” Jesse repeated.
“Everybody,” he confirmed.
“Everybody in the whole world?” Billie flailed her arms dramatically.
Smiling, Amanda reached over and pushed hair out of Billie’s eyes. “Mhm.”
“Even Santa?” Jesse wondered.
“Oh, he definitely knows,” Sonny assured her. “Santa knows everything.”
xxx
The one time Amanda had gone to The Plaza hotel, it had been with Al.
They had sat in the Palm Court beneath the stained-glass dome and surrounded by lush greenery, and ate brunch that cost one hundred and eighty dollars a person served by waiters wearing white gloves. A week prior she had mentioned to him that she had admired the hotel from afar for years. When she first came to the City from Georgia, she had been struck by the Plaza’s opulence: she remembered spying gold and marble and twinkling chandeliers through the windows off Fifth Avenue. Even now, whenever she found herself on Central Park South, she would steal glances of guests hurrying through the weighty lobby doors or watch them sipping champagne from their spots at the bar perched on crushed velvet seats. The Plaza was elegant and luxurious and romantic, and it was the kind of thing Amanda concocted jewel-toned fantasies about between gritty sixteen hour shifts.
You know there are newer hotels, Al had informed her. The Beekman has a restaurant by Tom Colicchio.. We could have gone there. He was missing the point, Amanda had thought, but she didn’t bother trying to explain. She nibbled her expensive scone and gazed up at the ceiling-high palm trees and knew deep in her gut that this man – with his money and his medical degree and his many, many excuses – was not who she should be sharing her life with. She kept trying to force him into the shape of a partner she could be proud of – that she could love – but even as he sat surrounded by all of The Plaza’s luster, she still couldn’t see his potential.
That evening in December, she walked into The Plaza as Amanda Rollins Carisi, her fingers entwined with her husband’s. She was leading the way, not because she necessarily knew where she was going, but because she was excited. Her blood was running warm with the champagne she had been drinking for hours and the sense of unbridled joy the day had brought her. The celebration was over now, but a week before it had even started Sonny had asked her what she wanted to do after they were married. Judging by his wolfish grin, she was certain that returning to an apartment with two over-stimulated children was not how he imagined spending their wedding night - no matter how much he adored Jesse and Billie. Their courthouse ceremony and restaurant reception had been tossed together in days and there was work looming and transitions to be finalized, but those remaining hours were theirs.
Their bags were whisked away by a bellman while a cheerful girl wearing a gold name tag labeled Nadia stood behind an oak and marble reception desk in search of their reservation. The entire hotel was decorated for Christmas - huge trees sparkled with white lights, ornament-laden wreaths on every door and window – but Amanda was hanging off the lapels of Sonny’s suit jacket and gazing at him like he was the only thing worth looking at. She met his mouth in a small series of kisses, vaguely aware (but wholly uncaring) that there was a couple waiting behind them to check in, and she reveled in the way his fingers curled possessively around her waist.
“Mr. and Mrs. Carisi?”
Nadia’s polite voice spoke their new title aloud, and it sent a different rush of excitement through Amanda’s veins. That was her now – Mrs. Carisi – and that was very, very strange but also very, very good. She disconnected herself from Sonny and leaned forward against the desk, blue eyes meeting Nadia’s brown ones. She could feel Sonny’s hand against the small of her back, steadying her on her high heels, which had become more of a challenge with every glass of champagne consumed.
“Hi,” Amanda breathed. Her face was sore from smiling, but now it was as if the movement was completely involuntary.
“Hi.” Nadia looked between the two of them, expression bright. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“So, it looks like you are in one of our one bedroom suites-“
Amanda let out a laugh, which she quickly contained with a palm over mouth, and shook her head. While they had committed to making this evening special given the slim chance of going on a real honeymoon any time soon, they certainly had not booked a room that cost thousands of dollars.
“Uh, no,” Sonny told Nadia levelly. “We definitely are not.”
“You are,” Nadia insisted. “Somebody upgraded your room.”
Sonny’s brows knitted together. “Huh? Who?”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t say, but the balance is paid.” She slid two key cards across the marble desk and smiled. “Twelfth floor. Room 1202.”
Amanda looked over at Sonny with wide eyes; he shrugged in response. He took the keys and tucked them into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, then threaded his hand with hers to pull her away from the reception desk toward the elevator bay.
“Who would do that? Nobody knows we’re here!” Amanda tittered as she scurried alongside him, heels clicking against the polished floor.
“Well, not nobody,” he countered. He held a waiting elevator door open with his arm, allowing her to enter before her followed her inside.
Amanda rolled her eyes. She thought of her mother, who had Jesse and Billie in Rockland County for the next week. “Nobody who’d do this.” She leaned back into the corner of the elevator and watched as Sonny passed the key over the card reader and pressed the ’12’ button with zeal. “I’m just sayin’, it takes some forethought, it’s really generous…”
Sonny moved across the elevator, which was now smoothly ascending, and used his body to trap her in the corner. “You can take the girl outta the precinct…” he teased her before he kissed her. His hands went to her waist, then slid downward, palms cupping her ass.
“You know there are cameras in here, counselor.” Amanda smirked against his mouth, her fingers hooking into his front belt loops to tug him closer so their hips met.
“Kissin’ your wife isn’t illegal,” he murmured. His grip tightened on her. “In fact, I heard it comes highly recommended.”
A hot flush of gratification coursed through her at the word wife. “Is that so?” She nipped at his lower lip then pulled it into her mouth, tongue soothing the spot her teeth had just grazed.
The elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open; without hesitation Sonny grabbed at one of her wrists and dragged her out into the quiet hallway. She laughed at his eagerness, although she had the very same anticipation running through her, and she clung to his hand as he strode toward their suite. He stopped abruptly outside of 1202 and Amanda pressed up against his back, hands snaking around his torso as he fumbled for the key in his jacket to unlock it.
When the door clicked open, a two-room suite was revealed. All of the furniture was inlayed with wood and gold, crystal chandeliers hung dramatically from each ceiling, and fresh flowers - red velvet roses and spruce branches for the holiday - adorned many of the surfaces.
For a moment, Amanda stood dumb-founded in the doorway as she took in her surroundings. “Holy shit,” she breathed. “This is bigger than-“
“Our apartment?” Sonny laughed. He loosened his tie as he progressed further in the room, his eyes darting everywhere. His fingertips grazed over the big velvet armchairs at the end of the lush king bed as he took long strides to the soaring windows lining the suite. He pushed aside the gold drapes to peer out at their view of the city.
“Yeah.” She kicked off her heels, her bare, sore feet enjoying the lush carpeting beneath her. She felt like Jesse the first time she had taken her to the American Girl Doll store: she didn’t know where to look first. She yanked open the heavy wood closet doors and peered in, curious, then caught sight of the marble and gold wet bar in the totally unnecessary but beautiful connected sitting room. Her eyes narrowed on something sitting next to the sink: a bottle perched in ice next to two tall champagne flutes. She scurried over and pulled it from the elegant silver bucket, mouth falling open in surprise when she read the label: Dom Perignon. “Sonny! Look at this!” she squealed and held up the cold champagne by the neck of the bottle.
Sonny appeared at her side; both of his eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Are you sure we didn’t get somebody else’s room? Maybe there’s another ‘Carisi’ around who’s got a hell of a lot more money than we do.”
“If that’s the case, maybe I married the wrong one,” she teased, and her joke was met with his palm swatting her ass in playful retaliation. She let out a laugh and went to reach for him, but stopped halfway when her eyes caught sight of a small white notecard tucked between the champagne flutes on the bar. “Hold up, hold on.” She stuck the bottle back into the bucket, took the little envelope between her fingers and hurriedly opened it, eager to solve the mystery. A printed note was left in her hand:
Amanda -
I’m so proud of the woman you have become.
Enjoy your night.
Love,
Mama