Remembering Paul’s comment about the “prodigal son” returning, and Peppin’s warning after, made me think there was something between Paul and Aniello that wasn’t real brotherly. A simple game of bocce seemed like much more.
My eyes found Peppin. He sat in a lawn chair, sipping on lemon water, watching them play. Every so often he would shake his head, like maybe he was sorry to see something that was supposed to be fun turn into something serious.
Maybe he felt my eyes on him, because a second later, Peppin turned and caught me staring. I couldn’t read the look on his face, or what his eyes were trying to communicate—they were the most expressive thing about him—but not knowing what else to do, I smiled at him. He smiled at me a second later, and that was when Little Lina started trying to hit the screen door.
Aniello had turned to face us when my eyes were on his adoptive father. From the shouts behind him, I assumed he’d lost the game. Maybe because he’d turned to find me? He didn’t seem to care.
His eyes were solid on mine, but with that look that made everything inside of me unroot and float. Like when he’d said it pleased him that I’d called myself hiswife.
As he moved closer to us, Little Lina started to get more excited. A big smile lit up her face, and she started hitting the door, kicking her legs, like she wanted to run but didn’t know how. It didn’t seem like she knew how to walk yet.
“I feel the same way when he gets close,” I whispered to her, kissing her cheek, and then breathing in the scent of her hair. She smelled like my perfume, maybe from my shirt, and something uniquely her.
Close enough, her arms reached out for him, and he took her from me like he’d been holding children his entire life.
It surprised me. Not that I couldn’t see him in this setting, living this life, but it was usually in daydreams. But I could never give him this. Her.
I went to walk back inside, but he snatched my hand before I could get too far.
“Stay,” he said in Italian, making it up the step to meet me. He pulled me in close, kissing me on the forehead.
Little Lina put her face close to his. He kissed her once on the forehead, once on the chin, once on each cheek, and then on the tip of her nose. She rested her head against his chest after, and her hand came up, resting on his neck.
“She loves you,” I said, smiling, even though my heart was breaking a little.
He seemed to light up when she was close. And the three of us huddled together like this…it almost seemed wrong. Like we were pretending to have something that could never be ours.
Before he could answer, Bambina sat next to me, and I scooped her up. I knew this. Was comfortable with this. This was mine. All I could offer him.
Little Lina reached out for Bambina as soon as she saw her.
“Gentle,” Aniello told her in Italian, as he taught her how to pet Bambina.
She had never been around children before, but her tail was wagging, and she kept trying to lick Little Lina’s hand.
Little Lina started laughing like babies do when they can’t stop, and it seemed like everyone turned toward us, laughing at the way she was laughing.
Even though my heart was breaking, I couldn’t stop laughing either. She was a gorgeous little baby, sent straight from heaven.
Once her laughter faded, though, she fell asleep in Aniello’s arms. He whispered something in her ear and then told me to put Bambina down. After I did, he handed her back to me and went to walk off.
“I don’t know who she—”
“Let her sleep,” was all he said, and then he disappeared on the side of the house.
Peppin went after him a second later.
I wasn’t sure what to do with her, so I took a seat at the table with a bunch of women who had been helping in the kitchen all day. It was the first time I’d seen Lina, the older one, sitting down since that morning.
Without me even asking, Alessa set a cold drink down in front of me and a plate with pistachio cannoli. “You’re so good with her,” she said. “You’re a natural.”
The lump that formed in my throat stopped me from eating or drinking the stuff she brought for me to enjoy, so I concentrated on the conversation instead.
It kept going as if I’d been there all along, something about the business Peppin and Lina owned, a pizzeria, and doing something for the church. Even though Little Lina was sleeping, the volume of their voices didn’t lower. It didn’t even seem to bother her. It also didn’t seem like she needed a lot of sleep.
Ten minutes later, her thick eyelashes started to flutter, and then her eyes settled on me. Her little hand came up to touch my face, and I kissed her fingers. I was about to ask who she belonged to, but a woman I hadn’t seen before took her from me.
“You could have dropped her,” the woman snapped at me, “if I could take her from you that easily.”
