Chiara and Donato barely looked at each other.
The worst of it existed between Rocco and Dario, who were no longer on speaking terms, except for when family business needed to be discussed.
Scarlett and I stood together, but her mood hadn’t improved since the night out on the deck. She had become quiet, introverted, and mostly stuck to reading books and taking pictures. I still couldn’t vow to her what was not mine to give. She still expected me to. And the nightmares continued each night. I was determined to get them to stop.
As Romeo had pointed out, it had all started in Ireland, or had been made worse, and I wanted to take her back to the source.
Romeo and Thomas had never been and wanted to go. Dario thought it would give him a chance to speak to Carmen away from Rocco and Abree’s insistent presence.
Since Violet’s parents had the kids in Greece for the summer, Violet and Mick decided to go, so Mitch and Valentina went too.
Tito and Lola had friends in Galway and decided to pay them a visit while the chance presented itself. Donato decided to go because he wanted a tattoo. Chiara claimed she had enjoyed Ireland and wanted to go back.
Suffice it to say Gabriel and Eva, along with Michael and Layla, were also up for the trip; they were going to stop there before they went back to the states anyway.
The plane was full. And silent. After Scarlett found out that I had bought the plane from her father, she gave me a dirty look and then fell asleep. Everyone took the hint and kept quiet. My wife slept until we arrived in Ireland.
By sheer luck, the same cottage the women had rented was available. We took the two next door as well, since we had more people this time.
“Why are we here?” Scarlett whispered once we settled into our room.
I gave her a generic answer. It was easier to show her instead of talking about it. So our days were filled with exploring, retracing the steps she had taken and creating new ones with me. We even made plans to go to the pub the women had gone to on the first trip, Gabriel performing again. This time Romeo would play the guitar, since he’d somehow mooched his way into the band.
“I am free this time.” Guido said, when he found out about this. “Then we are going to…?”
“Yeah,” I said, looking over my shoulder to make sure Scarlett wasn’t around. There were times she wasn’t there, and then out of the blue, there she was. With only two days left in Ireland, I didn’t want her to stress about the parade, so I decided to keep it quiet. Guido filled me on the particulars of the place.
I slapped Guido on the shoulder, heading to our room for a shower before bed. Scarlett was outside chatting with Chiara, feeding the four ducks that lived on the property. Instead of going straight to the shower, I stood by the window, looking out at her. Romeo met them out in the yard a minute later. Another few minutes and Chiara touched Scarlett’s arm and pointed in the direction of her cottage, leaving Scarlett and Romeo together.
Scarlett had been shy with Romeo lately, almost hesitant. He didn’t comment on it, to me or to her, but I could tell he didn’t like it. She hadn’t been herself—the dreams were still coming, and she still harbored whatever it was she had for me.
Romeo’s presence unnerved her. She turned from him, glancing this way and that, looking for someone else to break the two of them up, but there was no one else, so she concentrated on feeding the ducks the grapes she held in a clear bag. Knowing her, she named them to keep them straight in her head. Not one to want even a duck to feel life was unfair, it seemed she had divvied up the manna she fed them in this order: one for you, one for you, one for you, andoh, one for you. Romeo smiled at this. I would have too.
After watching her for a few minutes, with short bursts of conversation here and there—mostly from Romeo—he narrowed his eyes. He said something to her, she held up her hand, and then he acted like he was going toward his cottage.
He didn’t.
He hid behind a tree, and before I could stop him, he crept low on the grass, seized her ankle, and made such a loud quaking noise that it could be heard through the glass pane.
Her feet came off the ground, her hand to her heart, and then she attacked him with the bag of grapes. She swung from left to right, whacking him every chance she had. He let her. The entire time he roared with laughter, rolling back and forth, probably in duck shit. Risking the cleanliness of his hair for the cause.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shook my head. But then I heard something else through the pane. Her laughter. It rang, high and clear. It struck me to the bone.
The ducks started to attack Romeo, looking for spare grapes, and he was shielding his face. Scarlett laughed even harder. Seeing that he was in deep, though, she took pity and attempted to shoo the ducks. They turned on her for the bag. He went to get up but slipped. She went to run but the ground was wet and muddy, and she went down too, the bag tucked under her arm.
Romeo crawled to her, wheezing for breath; both of them were. The ducks, seeing that Scarlett still held the bag, waddled like fiends after her. Romeo got to her first and shielded her with his body. Scarlett’s arm came out of the fray, holding the bag like it was a trophy.
There was a moment when time seemed to still. Right before a man would kiss his woman.
Her eyes didn’t find his. They found mine. I nodded once, real slow, and then left the window.
She found me in the shower a few minutes later, smelling like mud, cool air, the barest hints of duck shit, and her rose perfume. Without a word, she slipped in the small shower, her small body crammed in with mine. I said nothing as I stepped to the back so she could get warm. Her skin was flawless and as soft as a petal. Her veins were close to the surface, streaking blue and purple. I could trace the echoes of her fine bones with a fingertip.
Her eyes were closed, head back under the spray of water, the humid and warm air bringing some color to her complexion. Water made her chestnut hair turn black, which made her lips look even pinker. Though she had been out in the sun, her skin had only a dusting of gold color, which on her, made her look exotic, paired with the shape of her eyes. Droplets of water ran down her face like tears.
When her eyes opened, they were a vivid green, the color of the rainforest after a hard rain. Suds ran down her neck, her chest, between her breasts, over her hardened nipples, and down her stomach, rising over the swell of her hips. Her thighs were coated in a mixture of water and want, so slippery.
“Fuck it,” I said, and entangled my fingers in her hair, pushing her against the tiled wall, and when her lips parted to gasp, I stole her released breath for my own, my tongue invading her mouth. If it belonged to her, it belonged to me.
