I truly hoped he did. It was not Rosaria or Rocco’s marriage that needed mending by him, not at this point. It was the relationship between father and second born, along with his other three sons, that needed the most care.
Whatever ran through Rocco ran through his relationship with Rosaria. The freedom to make his own choice—especially regarding something so personal as a marriage—would give him the sense of control he craved.
Luca stood before Brando even cleared his throat. Then he came around to meet us on the other side.
“The rain is coming down harder now,” Brando said, addressing his father but reaching out for me. I took his hand, and he pulled me to his side, enveloping my hand in his, trying to warm me up. “The risers are out.”
The tide was high, and the streets were flooding. Risers reminded me of foldable tables, one placed after another, leading people from one place to another so they didn’t have to splash through all the water.
Luca nodded. “We should go.”
Before we left, Luca took my free hand, putting it to his mouth. His kiss was warm and soft.
“Thank you, my daughter,” he whispered against my skin. “As always, your time is invaluable to me.”
He went ahead of us, taking Maggie Beautiful’s hand, singing a song that seemed to echo through the prison cells as he led us out.
* * *
Luca calledus all cowards when we all voted in favor of Maggie Beautiful’s suggestion that we find a closerristoranteto have dinner.
The rain had really started to come down, resuming its earlier vigor, and the weather had a bite.
“I’m sugar!” Maggie Beautiful protested, squirming her way deeper under Luca’s arm, trying to get out of the cold rain. “I’ll melt!”
This seemed to sweeten him up. He gave her a grin usually reserved for her, agreeing with a kiss.
All the women blew kisses behind his back as we sloshed our way toward the ending destination.
“I see that, daughters!” he said, his pointer finger rising in the air with his words.
We all grinned at each other. Juliette mouthed,sorry not sorry!
“Giulietta!”
Her eyes widened to saucers when he called her out.
As far as I was concerned, the quaintristorantewas perfect. It had all I needed. Food, drink, and a warm place to hide from the bitter rain.
On a beautiful summer day, outside seating would be perfect. Located in the heart of Venice, the area usually felt alive with people and activity. San Giacometto, the first medieval church in Venice, stared back. Its antique structure was something from a picture book, with its towering clock and ancient bells. Small shops lined the center. The other side of the structure boasted prime views of the sea.
Neither could be taken advantage of due to the current weather.
Luca, however, took advantage of the situation. Due to the rain, the restaurant had no patrons, and Luca must have offered the owner his due share to close his doors to the public.
The entireristorantewas ours for the evening. Quite romantic too, with its arched cream stone interior, pale wooden floors, and hurricane lamps burning against the dimming of the day.
An array of appetizing smells assaulted me at once, making my mouth water, and after going back and forth about the menu, we both ended up with fillets and baked potatoes over a bed of sautéed artichokes garnished with a green-pepper sauce.
The day had made me hungry, and I cleaned my entire plate without speaking a word. Without Brando doing it for me, I ordered something from the dessert menu.
“You know what would be really good right now?” I said, taking a healthy bite of cinnamon ice cream over green-apple strudel. “Animal crackers dipped in Nutella.”
He watched me in what was almost…fascination. He did each pregnancy, enjoying the fact that I enjoyed food.
“You never do that, talk about food while you’re eating, unless you’re pregnant.”
Romeo touched him on the shoulder, grabbing his attention. He and Mitch were in the middle of a heated discussion about guitars. Brando turned, but not before he took a drink of his water, eyeing his father over the rim.
