“Ahh,” I said, shaking my head. “He gets that from you. Both of our children do.”
“Do NOT!” She sounded horrified, seriously indignant.
“You do, don’t you?” I looked at him, and he looked up at me.
Maybe I was imagining things, but I could’ve sworn he smiled, a private joke between us.
We stood in the shower until the water turned cold. He slept easy the rest of the night, probably dreaming of the water that seemed to call to him as it called to me.
Just before the sun came up, he stared up at the nautical figures spinning above him in his crib, kicking his legs, moving his arms. I brought him to his mamma to eat, then kissed her on the forehead, telling her to get some sleep before Mia woke up.
After he finished his meal, she told me to dress him warmly. I did. Then the two of us went for a walk along the beach.
He didn’t fall asleep until we were headed back to the villa.
Luca nodded as we passed him on the veranda, not a word said aloud passing between us.
He put the coffee mug to his mouth, staring out toward the sea again. A second later, he began whistling “Father and Son.”
The sound of it followed me, clung to me, long after I left him.
38
Brando
A man of my word, the next night I took my wife out on the town.
This time, we decided to do a casual night out. She wore a plain black top and high-waisted jeans. I dressed along the same lines, trading in suits for jeans and boots. Both of us wore riding helmets. Scarlett had (my) her leather jacket on to shield her from the wind.
It had been a while since the last time I drove my Ducati. It was much easier to maneuver the streets of Positano on two wheels instead of four. The roads were daring, winding, and if there was a traffic holdup, it was much easier to shoot around the congested area instead of waiting for hours until the exhaust started to flow.
Scarlett held tight to me as we made our way, and then let out a howl as we came down from a steep and winding street.
Sprawled out around us was the sea, more water than land it seemed, and we were tucked away in one of its mountainous corners. Daylight inched into night, the last embers of sun playing across the water in blinding sparks before darkness came to devour the world.
It would be a full moon tonight, the small flares turning into swishing mercury as it coated the surface of the Mediterranean.
In no time, we were parked.
Another perk. No one could box us in.
Scarlett had laughed until she cried, and I’d grinned, when we were in some Italian city we visited before we had kids. A man in one of those little European cars had tried to parallel park in a space that looked too small.
Instead of finding another place to park, he decided to leave the car on the side of the spot, then he yelled for a few men coming down the street to help him. He gesticulated with hand movements to express the urgency of the situation, and once the men came together, the group picked up the car and moved it into the spot. It was just the way things were done.
Leaving the helmets, we walked hand in hand through the streets, up and down hundreds of steps, strolling along narrow walkways with goods hung up—the last of the sellers’ wares before winter season came in full swing—and dodging the few tourists visiting during the slower season.
The air smelled of lemon and fragrant wine, especially the closer we came to Da Vincenzo, the Italian place we frequented while in town. It was tucked in between a set of stairs and other business along the walk.
Inside, it reminded me of an alcove, with arched walls made of jagged rock and brick touches throughout. We preferred to sit outside. The weather was at its prime. It was cool, but not so cold that Scarlett would be uncomfortable. The view was spectacular too—all the boats anchored in the water bobbed with the swells.
After pulling out her chair, I took a seat next to her.
Candles were being lit in hurricane lamps, coming to life with undulating flames, but safe from the breath of the sea by the thin veils of glass.
The light played in Scarlett’s hair more than it did on the water, catching all the difference colors, sparking deep red, bright gold, and chestnut brown. Her eyes were glittering emeralds, shining in reflection of the candles and the setting sun.
“What should I get?” she said almost to herself, scanning the menu. “It all sounds so good.”
