“I wonder if we are going to have another girl or a boy this time?”
We?
Us.
Scarlett said nothing, keeping her face forward, smiling as Mia pressed the horn down on the bike that Rocco pushed with her on it. “Bomp, bomp,” she kept saying to Dino, who rode on a bike next to her.
We started to pass a herd of Valais Blacknose Sheep chilling on the mountainside, where small patches of grass hadn’t turned yet. The sheep were all white except for their ears, noses, and portions of their legs and feet. A constant chorus of bleats rang out, along with the sound of bells clinking around some of their furry necks.
Mia started mimicking them,baaaingin return, making the other kids laugh and most of the adults too. Luca’s mouth twitched.
As we climbed higher and higher, the conversation continued.
“My bet is on boy!”
“Mine too!”
“When a Fausti girl is born, she will be the last for that line for a while,” Lola said. “I know. I prove this theory true. Mia is the first girl since I was born. I only had brothers! Although it happened for my parents in reverse. I am the baby.”
The conversation kept up a steady pace until we arrived at the restaurant a few minutes later. Most of the men who came as a detail loitered outside, keeping tabs on a man who was paragliding from the sky down into our immediate vicinity.
Once we were seated, Scarlett putting her German to good use, all the orders put in and brought out, Luca rose as head of the table, an immediate quiet descending around us.
Grace was always said before meals. He led us in prayer. Mia, used to it, closed her eyes tight and held her own hands. Scarlett and I reached in front of her, holding hands, closing our own eyes.
Massimo was hungry, cranky, taking his spoon and beating it down on the table, demanding to be fed. A surprised squeak rang out and then the clanging stopped, followed by the pop of a slap.
A tension that wasn’t there before presented itself then, though Luca was only halfway through the prayer.
Scarlett stiffened next to me, and without even having to open my eyes, I knew. She had peeked.
Luca had decided to stop the boy’s disrespect by snatching the spoon and then slapping him on the hand.
Massimo stared at Luca, still in prayer, his bottom lip protruding, but no sound coming out.
In Luca’s world, it was either learn quick or continue to feel the fire until blisters formed.
Massimo seemed to catch on quick.
Romeo glared at Luca from behind lowered lids, but he said nothing. Like me and Scarlett, he had opened his eyes some too. Neither Rocco nor Rosaria spoke up, both still deep into the prayer, eyes closed. Dario sat as serene.
Luca spoke the last of the prayer, the table all murmured “Amen,” and then everyone dug into their plates.
Rocco went to hand Massimo his spoon, but the boy shook his head, casting an uncertain glance at Luca, who had moved on, tearing into his eggs with concentrated hunger.
Scarlett touched her stomach. She knew Mia was safe from his wrath, but a son would be taught to be a man before he had the chance to be a boy.
We were born men.
Luca wiped his mouth with a napkin before speaking to Rocco. “Do you not teach your son manners?” he said in Italian.
Rocco set his fork down and did the same thing, wiping his mouth before he spoke. “Yes, father,” he answered in Italian.
He knew better than to make excuses or say more than those two simple words.
Luca took a drink of his coffee, then set it down without a sound. “It is the woman who minds Massimo.” He waved a hand. “She oversteps her duties. Eunice—” he raised his mug in her direction “—she is good for Brando’s child, but she is not raising her, only helping when needed. A child needs its mother, but no more than a woman needs her child.”
That was a direct insult to Rocco and his wife.
