“First thing that comes to mind. Your sister’s child is just like her.”
“The second?”
“I refuse to repeat it in front of my lady. I think most people would be shocked at the thoughts that cross your mind and occasionally make it out of your beautiful mouth.”
“Ha! You have some nerve! You had to have it out with the man, didn’t you? You couldn’t let it go! I didn’t even get to shop for flowers. I’ll probably be red flagged—not allowed to go back toMercato della Lizza!”
I flung open the back hatch of the SUV, the SUV Brando’s uncle had sent over—he had been showering me with gifts ever since the loss of our son. He had asked Brando permission to send me things. Brando allowed him to. I didn’t want his pity gifts though. How couldthingsmake me feel better or make up for our loss?
Brando had explained that it was more for his uncle’s benefit than mine. Lothario had been struggling with the guilt of what he had allowed to happen, not stepping in and putting a stop to me dancing at the clubs Nemours ran, even after he had found out that the man had assaulted me. However, even though his intentions were somewhat pure, there was something murky lurking underneath the depths. More than once I wondered if the gifts were somewhat for show, for the family.
I snatched the handle of my wheeled shopping cart at the same time Brando did, and a tug of war ensued. I never carried my own bags in. Brando felt it was one of his duties as my husband, but for whatever reason, I felt like being stubborn about it.
I was under no illusion that if he really wanted to, he could snatch the cart from me in an instant. He enjoyed the game. For a little while.Then he put a halt to my tugging by placing a firm hand on the handle and hauling it up from the depths of the trunk without so much as a grunt. “Tu sei mia moglie. Non permetterò a nessuno di ingannare voi. E si sarà in grado di tornare al mercato. Vedrò ad esso.”You are my wife. I will not allow anyone to cheat you. And you will be able to go back to the market. I will see to it.He fixed me with a firm eye, head tilted slightly. Then he came in slowly and kissed me languidly. Pulling away far enough that our eyes were level, he whispered, “Si è ancora condividere il letto con me stasera, il mio amante?” Will you still share your bed with me tonight, my lover?
We smiled against each other’s lips.
“Sì.” I searched for more words, the right words, but none came, so I gave him another kiss.Actions speak louder than words.
Eunice, who had gone in ahead of us, came scrambling out then, her apron in place, hands wiping as she made her way. “Scarlett! Signor Fausti is here!” she hissed. “Three of them!”
“Three of them.” Brando cocked a thick, dark eyebrow.
“Your three uncles—” Eunice’s soft face became pinched for a moment, the sun revealing her true age. “Lothario, Osvaldo, and Niccolo.” She made sure to pronounce each of their names correctly, slow and precise.
“I’ll see to them,” Brando said.
Her face lifted, but not in relief. “What about dinner?”
This was not the first time Brando’s uncles had come over to enjoy our company, dinner included, but the men made Eunice nervous. And that was saying something. She had been around numerous men of high power over the years with my father’s dealings. Yet the Italians made her fidgety, ready to cook anything in sight to please them.
I put an arm around her shoulders; she smelled of summer on the dock, the fishmonger’s perfume lingering on her skin. “We’ll figure it out,” I told her, directing her back toward the villa.
She began listing possible menu items while Brando trailed behind, my cart bobbing along the dirt as we went.
The villa was full of life today.
My father and Uncle Tito waved, heading toward the veranda, our neighbor Apollonia handing them two glasses of watermelon lemonade before she veered off in the direction of the pool, where her four girls swam with Violet’s children.
Just in time, I yanked Eunice to the side as Paul zoomed out of the door, smelling of chlorine and hot sun, following in Apollonia’s footsteps.
“You wet the floors!” Eunice shook a fist at him.
He stopped for a moment, his bony shoulders tan and dripping clear water in the bright light. “Sorry, Ms. Eunice! Daddy says I’m not allowed topisciarein the pool!”
Brando and I exchanged a glance, attempting to hide our grins.
“There is an outside bathroom for the purpose! And I’ll expect you to mind your tongue, young man!” she yelled, but it was too late. He had disappeared over the bridge, feet flying him back to the fun.
Thomas, who had been with us at the market and was hauling my watermelon in, stopped when he saw me watching him. “Scarlett, where should I put theanguria?”
“The ice chest is in the storage house, Thomas. Bring it to the pool, put the watermelon in, and then fill it with ice. Tell Signora Lewis to cut it for the kids when it gets cold enough. There should be enough for the men too.”
“Grazie, Scarlett.” He smiled at me but didn’t move.
Brando cleared his throat. The man blinked before he carted the watermelon on his shoulder toward the stone storage house, his muscles flexing.
Eunice laughed. “Oh, to be young again!”
