“Niente.”Nothing.“They happened to walk in together. The luck.” Rocco laughed so low that only we heard.
As if summoned, Chiara said something in Italian that made both of our hands freeze right before glasses full of whiskey made it to our parted mouths. She had called Donato astronzoand thencoglione.Stronzomeant turd andcoglionemeant testicle—only one. It was an Italian insult, the equivalent of calling someone stupid.
She hadn’t put the two together, but when she started to get even more heated, Donato’s cheeks started to turn red. He wasn’t used to being called a turd or an idiot. At least she refrained from calling himcesso, which she called an oblivious Collette. It literally meant toilet, someone extremely unpleasant to look at.
The two lovers faced off, more heated, Chiara keeping up the string of insults, which she was extremely fine at—she put “your-mama” jokes to shame—and Donato stood tall, taking the hits like a man. When she told him, loud and clear, in English, that sleeping with him had been the biggest mistake of her life, he took her lissome wrists in his thick hands, halting her attempt to slap him in the face.
“Cazzo!” he snapped, low-voiced. The literal translation in Italian was penis, but it was used instead as a substitute for the word fuck. “Tutti fuori! Adesso!”Outside! Now!
Rocco and I exchanged knowing glances. I didn’t need Scarlett to tell me that Donato loved her. His reaction spoke volumes. If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t waste his time. Nor would he look like he needed to avenge someone for the fun of it. Donato had never showed so much passion or reacted in such a visceral way. The only other person I had ever seen him so passionate about was Scarlett. He had told me once he felt that way because she was a woman worth dying for.
Chiara stuck her long nose up in the air and crossed her arms over her chest.
You can forget it,bro, I thought.I know that stance all too well. She’s not going out without a fight.
“No!” she said, defiance saturating her tone. “Non è un caso in un inferno!”Not a chance in hell!
“No?” he repeated, as though he had never heard the word before.
“I saidno—you—you—!”
Before she could insult him again, he swooped her up, surprising her, and carried her outside as she beat his back.
“BRANDPOW, we watch a Wisney movie. Me and you.” Mary came out of nowhere. Her voice was high but lacked that screechy note it usually held.
“Men are such pigs! So are some women.” Violet glanced at Collette before she hugged Scarlett suddenly. “You smell tropical and you’re glowing. I’m so glad you’re home.”
“BRANDPOW is not a piggy, Mama! He isa wrince! Wocco too. He tells wood stories.”
“Smart girl.” Rocco smiled at her. “Marry a man who tells you wonderful stories and reads to you in multiple languages.”
Mary smiled back, showing a row of small, crooked teeth. “You gotta sucka for me, BRANDPOW?”
I turned to find the jar, handing her one.
The door opened and bright light shone in, revealing Valentina and Mitch, both of them laughing. Valentina Abbruzzese had to be in her late forties.At least. Romeo followed not too far behind them, Carmen and Dario right after.
I absentmindedly wondered what Mick thought about all of this.
Scarlett stood still for a moment, her eyes going hard. She shook her head and went to the cabinet filled with the chocolate cakes I had bought for her. The look on her face was as if someone had punched her in it after she opened it. She slammed the door and, without a word, rushed past the tense crowd, slamming the back door on her way out.
Rocco and Mary were the only two who noticed. Everyone else was too absorbed in his or her own fucking issues.
Mary made anoohingnoise. “Auntie Wawlett is mad.” She licked her sucker.
“What is going on withbella?”
I shrugged, though I had a clue. Before I followed her out, I checked the cabinet. All of the cakes were gone—not eaten but cleared out. Scarlett was the only one who really ate them, and given her eating habits, the insane expiration dates on them would work in her favor.
It was never a problem catching up to Scarlett, but I had to use my legs for what they were worth to keep her in sight. She was headed to the stone barn. On the way, I caught sight of Donato and Chiara still slugging it out. “Bugiardo!”Liar!was the last thing I heard. Donato pulled at hair he didn’t have in response to this, before I continued on without a second glance.
As I passed through the doors of the barn, entering the gym, I wondered if any part of our home would ever be the same. My hands flexed and tightened in response to the brutal beating they endured the last time I came here—my heart slammed against my chest wall, my stomach fell, and every feeling rushed me again, mighty close to taking me down once more. I couldn’t shake it.
“No!” Scarlett’s gasp met me.
I rushed into the studio, pushing her behind me, looking around—nothing. Not a fucking thing. The dance studio was put to rights, not a single shard of glass, not a blood spot to be found. Even the pictures were framed, hung back in their original spots.
“Who did this?” Scarlett stepped in front of me. Her eyes were wide, her face flushed.
