Each year, the crack in my heart ran a little deeper. I knew he wanted to feel it as much as we did, but somehow, he couldn’t.
Even though we had our moments, we were still distant, but I couldn’t stop my resolve from softening when I thought about all that he was missing out on.
Aunt Lola, Eunice, and my mother cried at the sight of all the decorations, taking my attention from him to them.
“You make me feel like a child again!” Aunt Lola said, kissing me on both cheeks, hugging me to her as she admired our tree. It filled the entire chalet with the scent of pine and snow.
Uncle Tito blew his nose, but he wasn’t crying. He nodded, agreeing with Aunt Lola.
Brando admired it with us and then he walked away, coming back with a cardboard box.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Open it.”
It was the cheese crackers that I’d been talking about at the restaurant we’d tobogganed to.
“I fucking hate that it took a couple of days,” he said. “But the kitchen is stocked with them now.”
I flung myself at him, bawling my eyes out. “All that trouble—” I sniffed “—just for some cheese crackers.”
He said nothing else, holding me closer. His heart pounded in my ears, filled with so much he longed to say but couldn’t.
He didn’t have to say the words. Not to me.
His actions spoke loud enough, drowning out any words he could have said, which was why when he had marked himself with that tattoo, he had marked me too.
23
Scarlett
As expected, pregnancy announcements came one after another.
Family dinner parties were held in honor of the growing Faustifamigliaon the regular. Luca made sure that family get togethers were a thing, and each family took turns hosting the parties when we were not checking out new restaurants or visiting favorites.
Despite Luca’s demeanor, he seemed to honor the meaning of family and was enjoying the time with his sons and their families. Even when I let go of the man I knew he was, and gave him the chance to become the father figure I hoped he would be, Brando’s guard never came down.
He behaved a certain way, knowing it was expected of him, but I could never get past the push and pull between them. The constant dance that always got too close to the lines they’d each drawn around themselves.
HereIstand. HereIstand. How dowemake this work without one stepping over the other’s lines?
When one made a move, it seemed like it pushed the other, but I doubted either of them thought in those terms, since they kept circling each other.
Even though Brando challenged his father, it seemed like Luca expected it. Enjoyed it even. Brando did it respectfully, as his son, but he was still doing it to a man who scared the shit out of people just by looking at them.
The dynamics of this family, the roots, even down to the separate branches, had to be learned, or it was impossible to keep up.
That wasn’t the only source of tension either.
Brando and I, and the brothers and their wives, all had different opinions on the changes in how things were run, with Luca as King.
The biggest change was in Rosaria, even down to how she handled their pregnancy news.
She stood at the head of the table with Rocco, gazing up at him, tears in her eyes as he announced their news. They were due not long after us.
Brando gave me a look that almost made me burst out laughing. It was a mixture of annoyance and cringe. She’d never done anything like that before, because even though she loved Massimo, she had never wanted children. She’d employed a handful of help, but after Luca made the comment, she fired all but one.
Rosaria’s father was aloof most of the time, and her mother seemed similar to my own, except she wasn’t involved as much. The Caffis were considered royalty in Italy, known for their long line of famous opera singers. The entire family was a flock of golden-voiced birds. Rosaria’s upbringing reflected her own way of raising children.
