Cool air blasted past us, causing me to shiver, when Eunice opened the door. The kitchen was filled with people. Mitch and Valentina, who held hands (That’ll be interesting, I thought), were on their way to the pool. Travis said he was going upstairs to change for the pool, leaving behind Charlotte and baby Charles with their au pair (as Charlotte insisted on calling her). A flow of men—some I knew, some I didn’t—continually came and went. Brando’s brothers and their women hovered around the uncles and their wives. My mother chatted with one of Brando’s uncles, the only bachelor of the group, Niccolo. He was the biggest flirt of the uncles, and I noticed he was putting his charms on my mother, who seemed to be falling for them. Niccolo could have been Romeo’s father. Both had a gift of the tongue when it came to seducing women.
I glanced at Brando. He set my cart by the stove and then made his way to his uncles to shake their hands and kiss their cheeks. I amended my thought of Romeo. It wasn’t just him. All of them had the gift ofseduzionerunning through their veins. It must have been hereditary.
The uncles’ visit was unplanned. When the Fausti four knew their uncles were coming by, they dressed for the occasion. We all did. But Rocco, Dario, and Romeo were all in swimwear. It was strange to see Brando, in a light blue t-shirt and jeans, embracing his uncles, who were dressed in suits, complete with suspenders and ties.
A slim man I didn’t recognize caught my eye. He sat at the corner of the table, ignoring the hubbub, an instrument of some kind by his foot. The shape of the case made me think it was a violin.
Our eyes met. He was dressed simply and had no features worth mentioning, except for his eyes, which seemed kind and filled with unassuming knowledge. He smiled at me, small teeth showing through the dim place he had taken amongst the brightness of thecucina(kitchen). I returned the smile, curious as to who he was, but before I could approach him, Lothario stood from his chair, followed by Osvaldo and then Niccolo. The three of them said “nipote!”at the same time before embracing me.
“Sono buoni zii.”I am good, uncles, I assured them, as each man continued to ask me how I managed.
Their wives—Belaflore (who we just called Aunt Bela, and who belonged to Lothario) and Fiammetta (Aunt Metta, and who belonged to Osvaldo), also rose to embrace me, kissing both of my cheeks. Luca’s wife was absent. The uncles had too much respect for Brando and Maggie Beautiful to bring her around. No one ever mentioned Ettore’s wife, or whether he even had one.
Out of all the uncles’ wives, Aunt Bela was the most astute. It took her a while to warm to me, and me to her, but once we did, we got along fine. Aunt Lola, who came down in her bathing suit and a monstrous floppy hat, held different sentiments toward Bela. “She is too cold!” she had once said to me. “My beautiful mamma, God rest her soul—” she made the sign of the cross “—did not care for her. After she met her for the first time, Mamma told me that Belaflore had been lying about her age. When I asked her why, she told me that the woman knew everything, so she must be older!”
We both had laughed. This wasn’t the first time that Aunt Lola had told me stories of her mamma. By all accounts, the woman had been a spitfire. I had asked Aunt Lola what she would have thought of me, and her response came instantly and with a wide smile. “Amato!”Loved you!“Just as I do.”
There were times when I got the feeling Bela didn’t care for me because she was threatened by Brando and the men’s loyalty to him. Lothario had wanted to be head of the family for a long time, but since Luca had been chosen, followed by Ettore, he hadn’t believed he stood a chance. One imprisonment and a cast-off had solved the problem.
Aunt Lola had also given me Brando’s great grandmother’s most precious jewels: her recipes. Italian women were protective over them. Some even refused to give them up before imminent death, and if they did, sometimes a vow had to be made that they would not be shared with anyone else, or the woman would come back to haunt whoever did.
Maggie Beautiful stepped inside, an undulating hat sitting on her perky head. “Wheew!” She waved at her face. She smelled of suntan lotion and wine. “It’s scorching outside! That was a great idea, Scarlett Gorgeous, icing the watermelon. Hopefully it cools before the sun goes down. Oh,ciao.” She stopped, noticing the women hovering around me.
Maggie Beautiful was like a lizard. She could lounge in the sun all day, her almond skin toasted to perfection, and not one wrinkle to show for it. She must have been doing just that—lounging in the sun since she woke—because she was surprised to see the uncles and their wives standing in the kitchen.
There was another point of contention. The wives stuck together and usually traveled like a band of gypsies wherever they went. Bonfilia, Luca’s wife, had been unable to carry children, so to complete his “duty” to thefamiglia, he had had affairs to create his army—Brando, Rocco, Dario, and Romeo. Bonfilia had raised Luca’s sons as her own. All but Brando, who Maggie Beautiful refused to give up. Knowing we didn’t welcome the woman into our home because of slanderous comments she made toward Maggie Beautiful, Bela and Metta held a grudge against Luca’s erstwhile mistress.
The two wives nodded but said nothing. The uncles did the same, but clearly it was only for the benefit of their wives. I had witnessed each of them in deep conversation with Maggie Beautiful on numerous occasions when they traveled to our villa alone. It was hard not to. She was simply enchanting, and still one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen.
“Margherita,” Aunt Lola said, taking her by the arm. She had fallen in love with Maggie Beautiful too, knowing who Luca was and what he was about. “I was just about to go to thepiscina. Join me,nipote?”
“Okay,” Maggie Beautiful said, her voice small but the fire behind it hot. “First, I came to see my children. I haven’t seen them today.”
I didn’t miss the sly look that Brando sent me, nor the force behind the wordsmy children.
Before Bela and Metta took a seat next to their husbands, resting possessive hands on their thighs, I rushed to Maggie Beautiful’s side, my alliance in this feud clear. Her skin was hot to the touch. I wasn’t sure if it was all from the sun.
Normal chatter started to rise again, and I chatted with Maggie Beautiful and Aunt Lola about the market as I put all of the purchases away in their homes.
“Gli uomini saranno uomini!”Men will be men, Aunt Lola said, shaking her monstrous hat.
Maggie Beautiful took grapes from the counter, starting to wash them in the sink to take back to the pool. “Brando’s always had a temper when it comes to money. He can’t stand it when someone tries to get one over on him. Not even a penny.”
Eunice hummed to herself, interrupting every so often to remind me that time was of the essence and I had to come up with a menu.Soon. She threw an apron around my head and secured it in the back, protecting my vintage dress so it wouldn’t get stained.
“I hope we are not imposing,nipote?”Lothario rose from his seat again, coming to put a warm hand on my back.
“N-no,” I said, taken aback. “Absolutely not. I’m just glad you came on market day.”
He laughed at this, a rare sound. Apart from the fact that these men could be considered lethal weapons, I did enjoy their company. They were all attractive in their own ways, and they all had Marzio’s oozing charm. Well, all of them but Ettore.Blah.
I suggested Eunice make antipasto to put out before the main courses were done, and she set to the task with gusto. She was relieved that I gave her fidgety fingers something to do.
“I brought someone along for this evening. Perhaps you will enjoy hismusica.” Lothario used his hand to guide me to the table, to the man with the case at his feet.
The man stood, and we came eye to eye. I hurriedly wiped my hand on my apron, accepting his with a smile.
“Paolo Occhipinti, may I present to you mynipote, Scarlett. And of course, my nephew, hermarito, Luca’s oldest, Brando Piero Fausti.”
