“You didn’t answer me, Butterfly.”
“Sì! Facciamolo!” Yup! Let’s do this!
Capo released me, swinging his leg over the seat. I sat behind him, sticking to him like glue, and he handed me a helmet once I was settled. He started the bike and I could feel it vibrating beneath my legs. I wrapped my arms around him, holding on tight.
He took me on a scenic ride around town for a while before we started to make our way to the outskirts. Every once in a while we’d stop at a light, but the further out we got, the less lights we stopped for. He picked up speed and I almost yelled for him to go faster.
I was totally free. Not a care in the world.
We rode for a while, following twisting and turning roads, huge mountains in the distance growing closer and closer, but finally we came to a driveway that seemed like it was three miles long. Hundreds of trees lined the pathway on both sides. Workers were out, picking fruit. Crates overflowed with lemons and blood oranges. Capo had told me that his family owned citrus groves.
Down the road a little was a gate, and beyond it, the land opened up, and a humongous villa sat in the center. It was tan with green shutters and a matching tile roof. Two other villas sat on either side of the main villa, but I wasn’t sure if they were places where people lived or something else. Little pathways lined with greenery led from one place to another. The smell of chocolate was strong in the air.
Before we stopped, people started to spill out of the main villa.A hell of a lot of people.
“Oh shit,” I muttered.
I thought I heard Capo chuckle but wasn’t sure. My heart started beating fast, and my stomach plummeted. It had never crossed my mind that his family could be big. Judging by the number of people flowing out of the door, they needed all three places for them to sleep in.
The wedding planner never mentioned how many guests were going to attend. She just said that whatever I wanted, Mr. Macchiavello said to give it to me, and she would accommodate. It hadn’t occurred to me that I’d have to impressallof these people with what I’d planned.
As soon as Capo turned the bike off, they rushed us. I wasn’t sure who I hugged, who kissed me on each cheek, and who held me at arm’s length, speaking in such rapid Italian that I couldn’t keep up.
Finally, Capo took pity on me and pulled me to his side, taking control of the situation. I was too busy trying to take mental notes, but I think they’d done the same thing to him. When he was able to fight his way out, he latched on to me and started introducing me to everyone.
I’d need another journal to keep track. His mother’s sisters—Stella, Eloisa, Candelora, and Veronica—stood out, since he had brought them up at the restaurant. Capo’s mother’s name was Noemi. I heard Stella tell him that she’d be proud. Then she looked at me.
All of his uncles, cousins…I’d do my best not to mix names up or get them wrong. I noticed that everyone called CapoAmadeo. I wondered why? And then I wondered why he hadn’t given me the choice to call him that. It was either Mac orbossor Capo, but no Amadeo.
The sea of people parted all of a sudden. A hush fell over the crowd. Then an older man came up the line, Candelora helping him. He wore a wide-brimmed hat and an old-time suit with suspenders. Even though he struggled, he kept his head up. The undertone of his skin was olive, but the surface was pale, which made him seem sickly. His brown eyes were alive, though, even if the shadows underneath were dark. When he smiled, his silver handlebar mustache twitched.
Capo met his grandfather before he made it to us. The old man slapped at his cheeks and said something too low for me to hear. Capo turned to me and said something back. When the old man finally made it to me, he knocked on the helmet still on my head and I exploded with laughter. I had forgotten to take the damn thing off.
“Let me see you.” He smiled. “Let me see the woman who has chosen to take my grandson as her husband. Let me see ifshehas a hard enough head to deal with him.”
I took the helmet off, setting it back on the bike, and then turned to face him again.
“Ah!Bellisima.” He took both of my hands, squeezing, while he leaned in and kissed both of my cheeks. “I am Pasquale Ranieri. You can call meNonno, if you would like.”
“This is Mariposa,” Capo said, trying to keep up withNonno. His grandfather hadn’t given him the chance to introduce me. “My wife.”
“Not yet!” Pasquale chuckled. “Did Amadeo tell you that I made him wait until June before he could get married?”
I looked at Capo and then at Pasquale. I shook my head. “No.”
Nonnomade a dismissive motion with his hand at Capo. “You will be married on the date that I was married. I refused to attend my grandson’s wedding unless he agreed to this. I also refuse to die before then, but this is between me and—” He lifted his face toward the sky.
“I’m sure it’ll be very special,” I whispered, squeezing his hand. It was cold, even in the heat, and nothing but skin and bone, but I liked the way it felt in mine. I liked him. Immediately. He put me at ease.
“Mariposa,” he repeated my name slowly. He watched me for a minute before he smiled again. “Such a beautiful little butterfly.”
15
Capo
She fit in.
It had been a week since we arrived in Modica, Sicily, and the changes in my wife were subtle to others but so pronounced to me.
