Conversation was slim as we ate, except for the few times one of us would laugh at the lambs. We all seemed content to take refuge in each other, but not to voice thoughts or opinions. Being in the midst of thetre sorellekitchen was enough excitement to last a lifetime. To think of nothing and to do nothing felt freeing to the extreme.
Of course, I couldn’t help but think about Brando. I wondered where he was and what he was doing. And why the hell he hadn’t even called me! I put the piece of bread I was snacking on down, finished with the meal. I sighed and Romeo put his hand over mine.
Guido caught up to us then, his face almost bright with excitement.
“What’s going on?” I could feel a change in him, something positive.
He pointed at the spread. “The picnic.”
“Hmm,” I said, eyeing him warily. I didn’t totally believe him. Food excited Guido, but never to the point I felt his happiness because of it. That was Thomas. The piece of my heart that had died with him attempted to resurrect itself, but all there was to be found was pain.
Guido took a seat, digging in to this and that, taking a glass of red wine. With his arrival, the conversation started to flow.
“A walk, Sissy,” Romeo whispered in my ear.
I nodded, and then gave him my hand when he stood and offered his to me. Vincenzo watched us as we moved past the group, picking apart the piece of bread I had discarded, eating what was left.
The ground beneath our feet was hard and getting harder with each passing day. Because the sun had lowered even further into the horizon, peeking out from distant hills, it barely kept me warm. One of Lena or Serafina’s sons waved to us from his stone house. The property was dotted with stone houses here and there, belonging to Serafina and Lena’s families.
We waved back, continuing forward.
“I can never remember all of their names,” I said. “There are so many.”
Romeo nodded. “That’s Salvatore. Serafina’s youngest.”
“All sons?”
“As far as I know.” He smiled. “It is a Fausti thing, as you would say.”
“I gathered.” I took a breath of fresh air. “What if you were to have a girl?”
“It happens. However, the percentage of boys to girls is staggering. Seven to one.”
I laughed. “Someone studied that?”
Romeo grinned. “It was mentioned in an article some time ago. I found it…interesting.”
“For sure,” I said. “That’s something.”
“If I were to have a girl, I would be pleased. I like children.”
“Me too,” I said, and our conversation trailed off. This was a sensitive topic for me. Brando and I had tried, and there was no pregnancy. Not that I’d want to be at that precise moment, but I had gotten pregnant without even trying the first time.
The topic must’ve been a soft spot for Romeo too, since the woman he fell hard for had left him. Or more apt, he let her go.
“She didn’t get married, you know,” I said after we had been walking for a few minutes. Our boots crunched against the earth as we strolled. “Juliette called off the wedding. Eva told me.”
“He should consider himself fortunate,” Romeo said, his eyes turning hard. “He knows she is mine, whether he acknowledges my presence or not. She would have become a widow if vows had been exchanged. Her vow is to me only.”
We stopped by a rickety wooden gate that made a square and was tilted. It seemed like it was used as a sheep pen at one time, but was empty. It still held the smell of earlier use, though.
Romeo leaned on the gate, hands over the side, eyes staring into the distance at Mount Etna. The volcano was the perfect analogy for Brando and his brothers, I thought. Dormant for the most part, but one small shift and all hell could break loose.
I hated seeing Romeo this way. I hated knowing that the Stones might be the cause of another war, and that I was the reason for another, an internal battle. The promise he had made to Brando at its core. Romeo deserved happiness. So did Juliette.
I went to speak, but Romeo beat me to it.
“Would you have left me?” His eyes softened, his shoulders slumped, and he swallowed hard. It was the first time he expressed how lost he felt.
