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My Nonna, our family's de facto matriarch, spends most of her days in her little kitchen. She's just old school like that. I've tried to get her to sit down more, and take it slower, but she blankly refuses. She'll let me help sometimes, but she'll never ask for it. That's just part of who she is, I guess. An old, stubborn, traditional dalmatian and I am very fond of her.

"Lavatti le mani, Nicky," She calls over her shoulder as I enter the kitchen. "Your uncle Dario wanted some chicken spears and bits for the barbecue." She sighs and shakes her head. "Sometimes, I wonder what happened to my little boy. Barbecue, by god, whatever was the matter with real food?"

As I take in the rich scents of her cooking, I'm inclined to agree. A large, cast iron pot, filled with her famous ragù alla Dalmatia, is taking up most of the space on her ancient stove. Several different types of bread lie on the kitchen counter, waiting for their turn in the oven. The heady mix of smells takes me back to all the times we've spent in the kitchen together in the past. She's taught me everything I know about cooking, and I've used that skill for all it's worth on my dates. Uncle Daz is far easier to please than any of them, however, so I wash my paws and start chopping up chicken fillets.

"Nonna, did I ever introduce you to my friend Reece?" I ask, "He's coming today. His family is from Dalmatia too, so I figured perhaps you'd heard about him before?"

"Reece... Reece?" she ponders out loud. "Does this Reece have a last name?"

"Oh, I don't recall, come to think of it. It's either Thomason or Thomson or perhaps it was just Thomas? I can't recall off the top of my head."

Nonna smiles to herself. "I believe it stems from the Tomasi family, a prominent name back in the day."

"Anyways, I figured I'd make sure to introduce you to him if I hadn't. He's a good friend of mine."

"Wonderful," She says, her tail wagging slowly like a pendulum, in that way old dogs' tails tend to do over the slightest joy. "I've never had contact with that branch. They all moved out of the old country before my time, and I've been curious what became of them."

"He's just moved here from America, so I guess he would know," I reply, as I try to sneak one of the sizzling morsels from the pan, but quick as lightning, she smacks my wrist.

"I hope he can tell me about his family, I'm ever so curious."

She continues stirring the pot as if nothing happened. "Did he bring company over? Oh, maybe he came with one of the Illiaretti girls? I heard from their father that they're both studying overseas."

"No, not quite," I say, rubbing the back of my paw. "I... don't think he's bringing someone you know."

"Oh," She says, her smile stiffening a bit. She knows all the dalmatians on the east coast, and probably further west too. I don't want to reveal too much, it's best if Reece explain that part.

"Well, I can't wait to meet this Reece," She concludes. "I'm sure he can tell me a lot about the other emigrant families in America."

I'm this close to reiterate the old comment. The one that goes "Nonna, I'm sure it's only you and your baccarat club left on the planet who still care about that heritage and bloodline stuff. It's Australia in the twenty first century. We don't do arranged marriages any more. We're cool about a lot of things, from mixing to same sex stuff, to cross species stuff. It's all good."

Suddenly, my uncle cries out from the back yard, and I'm given a deus ex barbecue conversation before I can stick my foot in it. He's usually clumsy when it comes to flammables, but when I reach the veranda door, I see no carnage. But I can hear the snarl of a car engine coming up the street, a sharper note than my cousin Gabe's old muscle car, and very much out of place in this suburb. It's an expensive sounding car.

"Four point eight." Daz calls out in an excited tone, tail batting as he turns to me with a grin. "Electronic injection with a flat-plane-crank, quad cam, and a sports exhaust. Dalmatia at her finest. Listen to that purr, that's the sound of real class. It's more than just an engine, mate, I'm tellin' ya, it's a fuckin' masterpiece. I'd give a left nut to own a car like that."

"You've watched too much Top Gear, Daz." I roll my eyes at him. He already knows who I've invited, who his boyfriend is, and what kind of fancy car they own, and of course he's going to want to talk about it. Better leave that talk to the experts I guess. I swing by the esky to grab a beer for him, and a few for our guests, too, to dampen the blow of my uncle's company.

"In the backyard, just through the gate," I bark across the fence as soon as I hear the car doors close. "Just give it a kick, she'll be right."

"Paulo might be a wolf on the outside," Daz suddenly says, leaning over with a big smirk shaping up on his muzzle, "But he's more patriotic than some of us. Not only does he drive a car from Dalmatia, but he rides a dalmatian too. Now, that's dedication, mate."

"Strewth, Daz, do you have to?" I groan. "Try to act decent, at least."

"Relax, Nicky," He grins and flips a burger absently. "They're guys. Guys talk shit all the time."

Just then, a white wolf comes through the gate. Behind him, a short dalmatian with a wide smile. His spots are more densely clustered around his ears than mine, and they're black where all ours are brown. He stands out against the crowd, almost as much as his husband. He perks up when he sees me, and I wave them both over. Paul, the wolf, stops to accept my beer, and gives me a quick hug. Without thinking, though, I touch muzzles Reece. He responds immediately, bringing his muzzle to my left side, right, then left again.

"Nonna will go crazy for ya, mate," I tell him with a smile. "Welcome, and happy Kings' Day."

I guide them into the large back yard, and begin introducing them to the crowd. "That's uncle Daz and his pups, Colin and Catlyn, over by the barbecue. Over there, that's Nonna's cousin, Dio, and his wife Irina, and that's my cousin Gabriel along with... Cindy, I think... or perhaps she was the last one. In which case this is Rose... actually, never mind. Everybody, say hello to Reece and Paul." I wave at the group of dalmatians, who quickly gather around the tall wolf.

Paul is a genuine racing car driver. An actual, V8 supercar series starter, a local hero. His racing car has a little pride flag on it and everything. To top it all off, he also happens to be a really nice guy, too. He's got this wide, amiable smile which is awfully contagious, and I can tell from the deep blue eyes behind his designer sunglasses, that he's genuine.

I was initially worried throwing this rich boy headfirst into an outer suburb party, but he doesn't stand out so much as I'd first anticipated, even physically. Sure, he's a head taller than all of us, but he's taken extra special care of his fur, and cropped it very close. He's not wearing any striped clothes, in recognition of his company, and the black polo t-shirt with his team logo on it is a nice compliment to his black and white boyfriend. Among all of us, he almost looks like another dalmatian, but without the spots, considerably overgrown and pointy eared.

Reece seems to be struggling out here, however. He's not grown accustomed to the sun and heat yet. I want to help him out, but I have to stick around for a short while, just to make sure Paul can withstand my family.

"Welcome back to 'Straya, mate," Gabe calls out, and slaps Paul on the shoulder. "I'm Gabe, nice to meet you."

"Cheers, Gabe," Paul responds, and shakes his paw. "I don't suppose it's your Statesman parked next to Nicky's car?"

"Yeah, she's mine, alright." Gabe says, slapping his chest proudly. "Four-fifty kilowatts through the rears, kicks like a beast. Almost as quick as your company car, eh?"

"My company car doesn't leak like yours." Paul punches Gabe's shoulder, as if they've been friends for years already. "Well, not on most occasions at least. We don't talk about the Adelaide incident in our household."

"Nah, that was just some horsepower escaping onto the track." Gabe snorts and winks at him, slapping Paul's shoulder again. "Along with some rods and pistons. Shame about that, better luck next year."

"You should down a piece of cardboard or something, Gabe." I intervene, exhasperated. "It's Nonna's driveway, you're going to get spots on it."

"Eeh, you and your spots." Gabe laughs, nudging Paul with his elbow. "What's another spot on this property, eh?"

I can't be bothered to argue with him, I'll let him face the music when Nonna finds out.

I'm relieved to see that Paul can hold his own, even with the sycophantic attention of my cousin. I have to remind myself that, despite his soft, city accent and nice clothes, he does belong here, out in the suburbs. For a minor celebrity, who spent most of his adult life in America, he's very down to earth and friendly, and deals well with the embarrassing fanboying my otherwise cynical cousin displays. The slightly ragged property, the smoking barbecue, and the loud company doesn't bother him either.

"Paul, I'm gonna borrow Reece for a bit, okay?" I say, when there's a lull in the conversation. Reece has been pushed slightly to the back of the crowd, with Paul absorbing all the attention. I guess he's used to it, but I still feel I should help out somehow.

"Sure thing," He says offhandedly, squeezing his husband close, right there in front of all the guys, before handing him over to me. Nobody mentions anything, or even exchange looks. It's not what I'd have expected, but I try not to think too much about it for now.

"Let's get out of the sun for a bit, okay?" I tell Reece, as I pull him towards the house. I show him around inside the little house I share with Nonna, but I can tell that the scents from the kitchen are distracting him.

"Nonna, I brought you some company!" I call through the house, after I've shown Reece what little there is to see.

"Is it Reece?" comes the response from the kitchen. Nonna emerges, wearing the old, tomato-spattered, white apron with the red and green stitching that I made her in arts and crafts class when I was little.

"Ah, yes!" She exclaims. "Look at that! Black spots, and everything, you are the real deal, as they say."

"I, eh, Hi. My name is Reece Thomson, pleased to..."

"I know, I know who you are, Nicky told me," Nonna interrupts, brushing his outstretched paw aside as she pulls him down for a traditional Dalmatian greeting. Reece seems slightly stunned, but credit where it's due, he adjusts quickly.

Nonna smiles, clutching his upper arm possessively, and pulls him into the kitchen. She guides him to a kitchen chair, and is halfway through pouring him a glass of the good table wine before I can intervene.

"Nonna, it's early for wine, isn't it? Maybe we should wait."

"I'm old enough to make my own rules, Nicky, sit down and join us." She gestures at a chair, which I take wordlessly. "Reece, dear, have a glass. You look like you need it."

"Thank you... eh, apologies, I didn't get your name."

"Oh, pardon, dear, It's Donna Francesca di Laverda."

Reece's eyebrows inclines for half a second, but he nods and sips his wine politely. "It's a wonderful home you've got here, Francesca. I like the back yard especially. Lots of room!"

She laughs and swirls her glass with a shaky, old paw, both frail and confident at the same time. "You're kind, but this humble cottage is nothing to write home about. I used to live in a palazzo, you know. Ours were among the last of the noble families to leave before the revolution."

"You don't say!" Reece exclaims. "I remember hearing about the emigration in family gatherings. You were actually there? When the... uh... history was made." His ears flick quickly as he stops himself.

"That's one way to put it," She says, maintaining her smile, "We came to Australia after that, and we found a good life here, where Nicky's grandfather and I could raise our pups in peace. That's the history I am most proud of."

"I seem to recall my grandfather talking about the revolution," Reece says with a more apologetic tone. "I think his uncle remained behind to fight."

"Such a bloody business that." Nonna said, "but it seems to be going well for Dalmatia these days. Perhaps one day we might be able to visit."

As Reece delves into his family tree, or what little he claims to know of it, she smiles with delight, and her eyes take on a dreamlike quality. Every now and then, she points out personal details which she remembers about the various names Reece mentions.

I get up and stir the pots and pans on the stove, as Nonna seems to have forgotten about them. My friend and my grandmother talk for a long time about their heritage. Reece is surprisingly knowledgeable, which I wasn't expecting, because he's never mentioned squat to me. As I listen to their talk, I drift away into my own little world, stirring the pot and focusing on the scents of rosemary, bay leaves while their talk fill the blank spaces around it.

"So, are you married, then?"

The question snaps me out of my daydream, and I choke on the spoonful I'd snuck from the pot while Nonna wasn't looking. I can feel my tail stop swaying, and my ears perk, as I focus intently on the conversation behind me.

"Yes, actually, my husband is Paul Courage, you know. The..."

"The racing driver?"

"Yes. He's..."

"The white wolf, isn't that right, Nicky?" She asks me. "The one from the television, a few days back, remember. With the pretty little rainbow on his car?"

"T-that sounds about right," I say, stumbling out of the gate. "He drives for Sinclair, black and blue, car number 8 with the... rainbow, yes."

"Nicky's uncle Dario usually comes over for sunday dinner, and they watch the races whenever he's on," She explains to Reece, as she sips her wine with a knowing smile. "I sometimes look in every now and then. I'm not so old and blind that I don't recognize a handsome gentleman when I see one." She continues in the same pleasant tone, and I manage to choke out a sigh of relief. "You know, back in the old country, I once attended a party with the world champion Grand Prix driver at the time. He was only known as Il Dalmata Volante. He was ever so charming. I was just a young girl, don't you know? I didn't know what to do with myself when he came over. He was so handsome and clever. He even danced with me that night. Oh, I must have been the happiest girl in the kingdom."

"Speaking of, Paul put on a documentary about him last week," Reece recounts with a smirk. "He thought it'd inspire me to get more into the history stuff, but when I pointed out how charming and handsome the other dalmatian was, then suddenly he decided I didn't need that kind of inspiration. I had to cook him his favourite dish before he'd even talk to me, can you imagine? Racing drivers, am I right?"

"Very true." She says, and laughs heartily. "They are a strange breed, indeed. Very passionate."

Reece glances over to me, just subtly enough that it goes unnoticed by Nonna. He smiles. Things are going well, better than I could have hoped for. As the conversation ambles on, I tune out again. I wonder what it's like to just come out with something like that, as if Paul and Reece's relationship is just completely normal. Perhaps I'm the only one who thinks it's a big deal, after all?

"I hear you boys are allowed to raise pups these days," She says suddenly. The comment thankfully isn't meant to include me, but my heart hasn't caught onto that fact yet, and is rattling away like a metronome.

"Wasn't that what the news man said, Nicky?" She asks me. "You must pardon me, Reece. Nobody tells me these things, you know."

"I, eh, yeah, I think so." I stammer, caught off guard by the sudden turn in the conversation. "It's just paperwork these days. It's probably very bueraucratic, but it's definitely possible."

"More straight forward than you'd think, Nicky dear," Reece says, with a knowing wink directed at me, which I feel is just bordering on the edge of teasing. "With the right paperwork, Paul and I could be parents, yes."

"That's wonderful," Nonna says. "You know, Reece. Nicky's uncle John had a pup last year, but they fell on hard times and had to offer him up for adoption. It was very sad for him, but I believed it was for the best of the little one. I travelled out to meet his new parents. A very charming couple of wolves who wanted a cub, but couldn't have one. I made them promise to teach their new 'cub' about his heritage." Nonna looks out into the middle distance. A sting of pride layers her voice. "I've always had the highest regard for our brothers and sisters, the wolves, Reece. They will treat you right. Strong pack instinct, even these days, if that's okay to say. Oh, dearie me."

"No, no, it's okay," Reece says. "He'd love you just for noticing, He takes that stuff very seriously, and he's not shy about it, either. Thank you, Franchesca."

"Call me Nonna, dearie."

"You never told me this!" I exclaim. "I thought Jonno was just... you know... unable to have pups..."

"Oh, did he not tell you?" Nonna asked. "I was going to tell you when you got pups for yourself."

"Ah, yeah. When I get pups," I hesitate, but the words escape my muzzle anyways. I don't think she hears them.

"Paul and I are planning to get cubs, or pups, of our own one day." Reece says, diverging the conversation before it can go somewhere I don't want it to go. "But I don't think, with Paul's career and everything, that that's going to happen soon. He's such a busy bee, and pups take a lot of time."

"Very true," She says, nodding sagely. "My father never had time for me. I sometimes wished I had another one, like yours will have. Lucky little devils, they'll be,"

She giggles, as if she was eighty years younger. "If you want a Nonna, you know where I live, but be quick about it. Not many Nonnas live as long as I do."

"That's very kind, Francesca," Reece smiles. "I might just take you up on that."

"Nonna?" I ask when there is an opening in the conversation. "I think the food is just about ready. We should join the others, don't you think? It sounds like there's quite a few out there."

"Oh, go on you two, I'll come out in a bit." She said, still swirling her nearly empty wine glass absently, still staring out into the middle distance with shimmering eyes.

In the garden, I notice several familiar patterns as we carry out the pots and trays. My uncle Jonno and his wife Natalia, Ivana and Claude from the baccarat club and cousin Gabe's father, Uncle Enzo. A smattering of spotted and mixed pups playing around on the dry, brown grass. Most of them, I couldn't have named, but the noise and laughter, and the background hum of good conversation, is making the entire setting feel safe and familiar. But I'm still thankful that Reece is here with me.

We set the table with all the food Nonna made, as well as the various barbecue items, stacking them begrudgingly next to the ragù, loaves of bread, and pot of homemade tortellini, The guests soon turn their attention to the food. I've got some things I need to talk about, so I take Reece with me, and we sit down in one corner of the garden, in the shade of a parasol on two old plastic chairs.

"Well, that went better than expected," Reece says and takes a swig from his bottle of beer. "From what you told me, I thought I had to worry about some old conservative lady. But you saw how she reacted."

"It was a nice surprise." I say, "Honestly, I've not seen her so genuinely happy. I think it helped that you had the old family name, to cushion the blow."

"I don't think that mattered so much really. I think if you'd have told her before this, she'd taken just as nice. Sounds like she's fond of you, Nicky. Perhaps you should just talk about this with her?"

"I guess, but I wanted to make extra sure, you know." I say, twiddling my thumbs uncertainly.

"I don't see why you needed me there. That's not to say I don't mind coming along all the same, I mean damn... a chance of some traditional food? Try to keep me away. I only dread the workout routine Paul's going to drag me into after this." Reece gives me a guilty smile and scratches the back of his head. "Speaking of, he should be just about done by now. Paul, dear. Over here!"

Paul turns to us and breaks free from the little fanbase around him, laughing and slapping shoulders as if it was going out of fashion. He's carrying a paper plate filled with ragù, as well as wearing some it around his muzzle.

"How did it go with the other guys?" Reece asks him, peerring at the crowd behind Paul's shoulder. "Gave them the full media treatment, did we?"

"Nah, that wasn't even necessary," He reports. "Not a bad word said of either of us, or him, or anyone else we know to be out. I managed to get them to talk about some gay guys on the TV. Your family is not half as bad as you lead me to expect, Nicky. If it wasn't for this food..."

"Yes, I've already pointed that out," Reece interrupts him, sticking his tongue out. "I think the food makes up for it, don't you?"

Paul nods and pulls up a chair next to Reece, putting a paw across his husband's shoulder. Reece wipes his mouth clean like a fussing mother, and earns himself a lick on his muzzle for his trouble. I can't help but feeling a sting of longing when I see what they share together. I know I could have it. I feel sure of it. I regret not having any done this before.

"Some of them joke around a bit, but that's normal," Paul mumbles from behind a mouthful, and takes a swig from his beer. "None of it's hateful, really. It's kind of childish, sure, but that kind of joking usually stops pretty easily if you just talk to them. And they like you, Nicky, so I don't think that'll be a problem. We talked about you a bit, none of them had anything bad to say. I don't think they'll give you a hard time. They were practically falling over themselves to explain how understanding and open they were towards my situation, and I believe that'll extend to you, too."

"I still think this was a round-about way of doing it." Reece says. "I know we're all different, and work at our own pace. But, I mean, you could have just brought it up whenever you saw some gay dude on the TV, right? Your Nonna watches those gardening shows on Nine, doesn't she? He's gay, you know, and that news reader on daytime, too?"

"I know, I know," I say, scratching my head embarrassedly. "I always thought she worried too much about all that bloodline stuff. I thought she worried too much about me finding some girl to have pups with. I didn't know what she cared more about. But now I know. It might seem convoluted having you guys test the water for me. But I'm glad we did it this way. You helped me see things I probably wouldn't have seen if I was on my own."

"Hey, anything for a friend, right?" Reece says, patting my shoulder. "I'm sure you can cook us dinner one day, to make it up. So, when do you think you'll be coming out then?"

"I have to think about that for a second," I deflect. I'd not made any contingency plans for a situation that didn't end with a shouting argument or a fight. But there's no getting around it, my family are not exactly who I thought they were. I can't give him an answer right there, so I don't. I get up, gesture for them to wait for me, and then head into the kitchen to find Nonna.