She stroked my arm, probably feeling the uncertainty in me, and I kissed the highest point of her cheekbone. Her features were so elegant, in stark contrast to the wildness of her hair.
“I did.” She sighed. “Violet went to watch Mitch sing without him knowing.”
“He sang for her.”
“I knew he would. He always did.”
A few moments of silence passed.
“I said those things to you because I could.” My voice seemed to drift. “I don’t say what I don’t mean, Scarlett.”
“Back to Scarlett?”
“Tell me if I’m the man you married,” I said.
“Push and pull,” she muttered to herself. “Battle. Surrender. Back and forth over lines. So many lines. Like layers.”
She sighed long and hard, holding on to me even tighter. The stars had begun to dissolve, but her irises were still bright, their residual light burning in her eyes.
“Here,” she whispered, “it feels like we’re sleeping in a hammock of stars, doesn’t it?”
Placing a kiss on my arm, on my hand, she turned, tucking her head against my chest, so that her ear was pressed against my heart. She kissed me there too.
She fell asleep cradled in my arms, still holding on.
28
Brando
WeihnachtenI found out meantChristmasin German.
The night before Christmas, Scarlett and I took in midnight mass at St. Mauritius in Zermatt. The scent of incense clung to the frigid night air.
Scarlett looked forward to attending midnight mass all year. It was special for her, and one of those things I couldn’t take from her, like a belief or a dream, no matter what was going on.
I sat next to her in the old wooden pew, her head covered in amantello, holding her rosary.
The rosary was a gift from Lola. It had belonged to her mother, my great grandmother. Since Tito and Lola didn’t have children of their own, Lola wanted it to stay in the family and be passed down to Mia someday.
The next morning, after Mia opened her gifts, and Scarlett and I opened presents from each other, we had breakfast, the three of us, then got dressed and headed back to church to meet the entire family.
Scarlett and Juliette wore the traditional hair coverings,mantello,and Rosaria and Carmen gave them shady looks. Scarlett wore them regardless, but Luca was a traditional man, and this pleased him.
Rosaria and Carmen both gave Scarlet a stiff “thank you” when she pulled out two extras and handed them over. After that, whatever Luca said to them made them smile.
The day turned out to be a rich affair, full of loud conversation, animated hand gestures, tables full of food, and plenty of presents swapping hands.
Luca grinned over his wine glass as Scarlett opened a store-bought gift from him and Maggie Beautiful. She grinned back, thanking him, as he pulled another struffoli from the silver tray she’d set them on.
The recipe was from my grandmother’s personal cookbook, and though I’d never tasted hers, I couldn’t imagine them being any better than Scarlett’s.
Luca seemed to think so too.
The secret between them was as silent and as still as the honey glaze in the jar.
My fingers were still sticky from the sugar, wafts of lemon and orange strong from the zest, and I brought them to my mouth, running them back and forth against my lips, knowing my wife had made them, and wondering how it would taste spread on her skin.
Lola took another ball, nudging me, probably knowing the secret between my wife and Luca too.
