Her face turned the color of her name, her ears especially, which she had been attempting to hide as of late. A well-known Italian jewelry company had asked her and Rosaria to be the faces of their brand. Both women had accepted. Scarlett was always hesitant to wear their earrings though.
The attention from the commercial bothered her. She moved in closer to me, and I put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in, kissing the top of her head. Before she could shrink too much under their attention, Romeo called the room to order and started going over the rules of the game.
In stark contrast, he didn’t mind being the center of the universe—he andThe Hairthrived on it. His ego seemed to live in his scalp.
The objective of the game was to get all of the plastic balls you could scoop up with your upside-down laundry basket, and then dump them in another basket.
Two to a team, one partner would lay on the skateboard while the other used the latter’s legs to move them toward the center of the game, where the balls were located. I understood the tarps then—wheels on the antique floor would have been detrimental to the wood.
Romeo opened his arms, a smug smile on his face. “This is, ah, Hungry Hungry Hippos—literal.”
“Do the men—” Alma glanced at my brothers and me, then at Mitch and Mick “—have to take their shirts off for this game?”
Silence stretched, and then her awkward laughter rang in the air. “Just kidding!” She laughed even harder.
I was pretty sure that we were not the ones who gave Al the impression that this wasthatkind of party. After hearing her comment, it didn’t seem so out of place for him to question it.
None of us moved except Romeo, who shrugged. He lifted his sweater off and then threw it on the sofa.
“Let’s get this party started!” Alma howled. The woman wore plaid, a scarf, and loafers, and it seemed like she was ready to take them off. Al eyed her, like he was waiting for the moment to tell her to keep her clothes on.
Romeo pressed a button on the remote he retrieved from his pocket. Dance music started to play on the stereo. The game began, and with a certain amount of alcohol, it quickly became nothing but laugher.
After winning four times in a row, Scarlett and I stumbled into the kitchen, looking for something cold to drink.
“Baby,” I said, watching as she went for bottled water in the fridge. “You were savage in there.”
“I have a good partner.”
“No, you had a game plan. You went in arms braced for scooping balls. Damn the basket.”
She grinned. “I had to beat Charlotte, didn't I?”
My jaw had almost had to be picked up off the floor when her prim and proper sister jumped in and ordered her husband to get a firm grip on her legs, andget the fuck in there! She was just as competitive as my wife.
“And almost knock her off her skateboard—yeah, you did.”
We both started laughing. I made a fist and put my left hand up. Scarlett did the same. We bumped, our rings clanking, metal against metal.
Then we became quiet, both of us grinning, listening to the drunken shouts coming from the other room.
“Keep steady, woman!” Guido ordered through the sound of skateboard wheels crinkling the plastic tarp, music, and other wild laughter. Someone was wheezing. Al?
Lola could hardly speak, she was laughing so hard. “I cannot! I cannot get back on the...thethingywith wheels.”
“Let go of her legs,” Violet screeched through laughter. “Then maybe she could get back on!”
Lola was on the floor, wriggling to get back on, like a worm, but couldn't because Guido still held her short legs.
“Malvagità!” she kept shouting.Evil.Tito’s face turned the color of a bruised tomato and tears ran down his cheeks. He was enjoying the show.
Rocco, who was as competitive as Scarlett, was growlingandlaughing as he continued to push Rosaria forward on the skateboard. Charlotte and husband had beaten them, and he was in it to win it this time.
Scarlett and I laughed even harder, stumbling into one another. A beat passed, our laughter tapered, we became silent, and then our lips came together.
“Why didn't you take your shirt off?” She put plenty of emphasis on “you” and “your.”
“You want me to?”
