“Brando, I’m fine!”
“Fine, ah?” His voice was quiet but intense, his grip on my arms tight, his face close to mine, eyes all consuming.
I swallowed hard, the sound of it almost a gulp, and attempted to yank out of his grasp. “I’mfine!” I hissed. “Let me go!”
“Never,” he said with finality.
All at once, the air seemed to escape from my lungs, deflating me. My arms went slack in his hands, and he pulled me close with such force that I gasped, but I let his strength hold me up.
“I will never let you go,” he whispered in my ear. His hand came under my hair, pressing my head to his chest. I could hear his heart beating, fast but steady.
The way he held me sent his strength through me, and I released a sigh, feeling like a flower that takes rest under the moon after a hot day in the sun. I shut off, became blank, the only thoughts in my mind the ones that were there before.
“Dinner,” I mumbled.
“Eunice has dinner under control.” He kissed my forehead. “If not, I can cook.”
“Hah?”
His mouth twitched. “I know how to fry eggs,” he said, kissing me again. “I can boil shrimp and crawfish. I’m a master on the grill. I can make a mean sandwich. If we have meat and cheese.” He stopped pondering all of the things he knew how to make all of a sudden. I didn’t realize it at first, but two shapes were coming toward us, materializing as Guido and Eunice.
Guido cradled something in his arms. On closer inspection, it was a bundle of fur. Volpe.
“He ate the Italian bacon,” Eunice said, her voice unsteady. “I didn’t see it, at first. Guido wanted a piece. So he fed it to Dog One.”
It was then that I saw Guido’s eyes glistened, the rims around as red as blood, such a contrast to his olive skin. Volpe wasn’t breathing, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, to the side.
“But I—” I forced myself to think, to organize my thoughts. “I didn’t orderpancetta.” Eunice always referred to food as she knew it—pancettawas Italian bacon.Prosciuttowas Italian ham. And so forth.
“No,” Brando said. “You didn’t.”
“What—” But then I realized the truth, even with the slow movement of my mind. “Oh, you ordered it. Let me guess? You wanted it known that thepancettawas for you?”
“Something like that.”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” I said underneath my breath.
Brando’s eyes were intent on Volpe. He seemed far inside of his mind. “Bring him to Tito,” he said, nodding toward the door. “Let him take him.”
“Wait!” I said, full panicked. “We have to bury him! We have to!”
I wasn’t sure what got into me, but I placed myself between the door and Guido, demanding that someone agree before he handed him over. He still looked so alive, so full of zest. I couldn’t believe—but he was,he was.
Tears fell from Guido’s eyes, landing on the dog’s bright white fur like diamonds. His missing patches of hair had started to fill in, his skin settling as he was in the safety of his new home.
My hand came to my mouth, to block the sob that was close but not close enough. It was almost painful not to be able to release it.
Brando took me by the arms, forcing me to look at him. “Let him through, baby. We’ll bury him.La mia parola è buona quanto il mio sangue.Tomorrow. Tonight you need rest.”
I made no protest as he lifted me off my feet and carried me to our room. I was already asleep before my head hit the pillow. The fabric felt ice cool against my cheek, soothing the sting of the slap.
* * *
Fog clogged the mountainside, obscuring most of the green that decorated it like ferns growing from a cleft in a rock, and the clinging villas in the distance. The haze of it meandered, gliding into the storm clouds that turned Positano to slate. The sea was in a temper, foaming and relentless, a constant purling into the shore. It fit the mood of the atmosphere, both choleric and dispirited.
Over the sounds of wind and water, the pit pat of raindrops could be heard, a steady pulse in the background, one of nature’s heartbeats.
I turned my eyes up. A waxy green leaf was a conductor for a line of water, but when the sun was bright and relentless, it would be the perfect spot, filled with shade and peace.
