“Now that we are all here.” He shot Brando a look. “We can go forward with the special evening. As you all know, this tradition was started by my beautiful mother and father, Marzio and Grazia.”
A light round of applause came at this.
“As traditions go, this one was dear to my mamma’s heart. Most of you know that she did this to prove to Marzio that he might have been the head of the family, but she was the driving force behind their journey. The heart. One is as important as the other, as the wheels on the bike cannot go forward with only one. It takes two.”
This poignant statement drew out another round of applause. A few whistles rang out this time. I noticed then that the single men were already on their bikes.
“Now!” Lothario clapped his hands, signaling that the end of his gallant speech was near. “Let the men take the back! Our women will drive us on the journey of this night!”
All of the women cheered, but none of the men—except for the single ones, who seemed to be gloating.
Nervous laughter tumbled out of my mouth. I hadn’t found the courage to look at Brando yet. He had never sat sidesaddle or behind in hislife. I got the feeling he wasn’t ready to start.
“I’m not doing it,” Brando said, voice sharp. “You can’t even drive a car with four wheels, much less a bike with two.”
I turned on him, eyes narrowed. “Who says?”
“Half the population of Italy, who have no room to talk.” He crossed his arms over his chest and I did the same over mine. Our stares held for what seemed like a drawn out, intense moment—lion glower to girl anger.
“You’ve gone and done it now, Fausti!” Mitch laughed, revving his motor. He was alone on his bike, and Valentina was on hers. Only the married couples had the “privilege” of riding together. “You told Scarlett Rose Fausti that she couldn’t do something!”
Romeo hopped off his bike. “I have no problem riding on the back of yourwife’sbike. You can ride solo.”
Brando said something that made my cheeks flush. He held his hand up, stopping his brother from coming any closer, and bowed to me, then swept his hand toward the bike. The entire group erupted into laughter and cheers.
The anger on my face melted into a self-satisfied grin. I hopped on, not even beginning to understand what I was doing, but not caring all that much. How hard could it be? Just because I wore an overflowing gown that fluttered along the ground as we drove didn’t mean that I couldn’t do this.
I glanced behind me. Amendment. Iwoulddo this.
“I request a stronger helmet. And padding,” Brando grumbled behind me. “I never thought I’d see the day. Is this what my life has come to?”
“Hush!” I said, invigorated by the rattle of the motor. “Things could be worse. You could be Livio.”
Livio was holding onto Santina as though she was his lifeline. She looked a little too eager to take off, her eyes and nose scrunched up in concentration, lips wide in a mischievous smile. Her hands moved forward, pretending to rev the motor.
Livio made the sign of the cross.
“I feel you, brooo—!” Brando’s voice caught on the wind as I tore forward, following the group. Though I refused to admit defeat to my husband, the ride was a bit sickening at first, until I had a handle on balancing two wheels. Considering that I had a sticky Italian behind me who kept shouting orders in my ear, I thought my success in keeping us both on was a feat.
“Scarlett!”
“Close your eyes and feel the wind in your hair, Brando!”
“Mio Dio,” he almost groaned, a sloping hill approaching, no other cars in sight. “Slow!Lento!”
“Weeeeee!”
“Scarlett!”
“Shut it!”
“High on power and authority,” he mumbled. “Give a woman a set of keys and suddenly she’s the king of the effing jungle.Shut it. My wife tellsmeto shut it. Me.Shut it. Who’s wearing the dress, her or me? Pull over. I need to stop and check for my balls.”
“I can hear you,” I almost sang, truly high on the feeling of driving this mini-bike around town, my alpha husband behind, seeing life through my usual lens. “And stop talking about me in third person. It’s creepy.”
“I’ll show you creepy, woman.”
An expensive-looking motorcycle whipped past us, the man driving, the woman behind, and they were shaking their heads—laughing. In my antenna-like rearview mirrors, Brando made an improper gesture at them.
