I wondered if Catullus knew the value of kisses and which ones were worth envy. This one was.
Somewhere deep inside of my mind I knew the only thing standing between the ground and me was my husband, holding me up with his strong arms. He made my heart stop beating in the beginning, and at the end, he made it start again.
“I think you confused him,” I said, voice floating, in a daze.
Brando shook his head, removing a piece of hair from across my face, his left thumb stroking my overheated skin. “Not only him. The entire world.”
“You don’t try,” I breathed out. “You do.”
We stood that way—was it only minutes?—gazing at each other, despite Vincenzo’s presence. He had made it to us and was staring at the swing, lighting up a cigarette.
In that way of his, Brando demanded to know what he needed. Vincenzo answered without looking at us. He came to deliver a message. Two of the men said that Rocco requested Brando meet him at the main villa. On occasion, one brother or another would request a meeting to go over any new information they had or to discuss the rotation of men or a new plan.
Brando nodded, closed his eyes, and kissed my forehead. I put my hands over his, not wanting to move, but we did.
“We’re going to Portugal soon,” Brando said, as we made our way toward the main villa.
I nodded, feeling a rush of excitement flow through me. I’d come to settle on the farm, but Theresa made me feel jumpy in my own skin. There were times when she appeared out of nowhere, as if conjured up by the volcano in the background.
“How soon?” I asked.
“Tomorrow. Or the day after.”
I didn’t think we’d leave so soon. It was sort of outrageous for me to imagine it, but I had always wanted to see the Easter traditions. Each Sicilian town had their own special rituals, processions, religious reenactments, prayers, and so forth. It was a really special time, an experience.
I asked Brando if we should leave during this time. There would be a lot of people and we could go disguised. The chunk of us wouldn’t be noticed in the large crowds.
“You want to see it,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re not worried about danger. You want the experience.”
Vincenzo laughed some, blowing out a lungful of tar. “She is brave, your wife.”
“Yeah,” Brando said, agreeing, but not liking it. “She is. Sometimes too brave for her own good.”
“Speaking of experiences,” I said. “Tell me about Catullus.”
“Let us live, my Lesbia, and love, and the rumors of the stern old men let us value all at just one penny!” Vincenzo said dramatically, even putting his hand to his heart.
I gave him a curious look. He could laughandrecite poetry. He was an everyday man of mystery, that one. He gave me a half smile, and then winked. Brando was not one to recite poetry either, though there were times he shocked me with his words. It was almost as if once upon a time he had caged them up, and to set them free, he had to pay the price with his own blood.
Brando had had to travel in unorthodox ways to get here, he had told me that much. He went on to explain how Catullus had gotten stuck in his mind. Their last ride had been hitched. Another farm had picked them up and gave them the bed of the truck to use. Most of their conversation was based on us—Rosaria, Chiara, and me. Other times, they spoke of the problem at hand and how to settle it. Somehow Catullus was brought up, and the three men went back and forth discussing the merits of his poetry and comparing them to real life.
“Five stuck with me,” Brando finished with.
He held open the door for me. The sisters’ kitchen was full of activity. Talk was loud, the fryers were going nonstop, and each station hustled.
“You!”ZiaSerafina pointed to me. “What does this look like? A life of leisure! Get to stuffing!”
“We came here for a meeting,” Brando said.
“Meeting?” Her face pinched. “I don’t know anything about a stinkin’meeting!”
One of the men who had asked Vincenzo to relay the message to Brando took a step forward, looking a bit uncomfortable. He explained that Rocco was in his villa, not here. Vincenzo slapped him on the back of the head and said something to him that sounded rude in Sicilian. “Who told you this?” Vincenzo pressed.
“One of the men. I do not remember his name.” This guy was one of the younger ones, and he had a hard time remembering names. He stuttered a lot when one of the higher ranks spoke to him.
Vincenzo said something else and shook his head. Brando took me by the arm and went to lead me out when Serafina took me by the other arm and a tug of war ensued.
“She stays here with me.” Yank. “I need her help.”
