“We,” he clarified, hurriedly. “We do.”
“Sit,” I told him again.
He did, this time sitting down with more resolve in his squared shoulders. “I know how you feel about Sue and her family. But it’s not fair. Her cousin—”
I lifted a hand. “We know all about her cousin.”
“I’ll just—” Scarlett stood, placing a kiss on my head. “I have to attend to some business in Silvio’s room.”
Peter’s face flushed a dark red at her words and at the look she shot him. He mumbled “I’m sorry” and looked away.
“Scarlett,” I said, checking my watch. “We won’t be long. Then we’ll pick up the kids together. Grab some dinner in town.”
“All right,” she whispered and left the room.
“One.” I held up a finger, turning to Peter. “Being here is unsafe. You know the deal. It’s no secret that a man wants to harm my wife. What if he would’ve been here?” He went to speak but I silenced him with my hand once more. Then I added a finger to the mix. “Not to mention how disrespectful. What if your aunt would have walked in instead of me?” A third finger. “Marriage is serious. You don’t need me to tell you that. Get to know her, man. That’s all I ask of you.”
He seemed to understand right away.
“How long until you tell Ma and Pop?”
“She pick a date for the wedding?”
“Summer.”
I stared at him; he stared at me. I ran a finger along the top of my lip, thinking.
“I’ll give you until the beginning of the New Year. But you’ll tell them about the situation now. That you’re dating her. Or tell them everything. Your call.”
“Pop...” He opened and then closed his hands. “But Ma…”
“Yeah,” I said. “I get it. Give me your word that we’ve squared this.”
He nodded, held his hand out, and gave me his word.
Before he left, I clasped him on the shoulder, squeezing. “Whatever you do,” I said, refusing to soften my stare, “don’t get her pregnant, ah?”
The Jones women were known to destroy more than just pictures.
13
Scarlett
December 25thbloomed bright and early.
The sun hadn’t even touched the sky, though I doubted that even when it was time, it would. A winter haze moved lazily through the cold air, thick and gunmetal, as though it belonged to some warm-blooded creature.
The smell of hot chocolate and pine drifted through the air, along with the remnants of firewood that had sacrificed itself for our warmth. Even if the sun hadn’t been bright, the scents added festivity.
Brando turned to me, giving me a lopsided grin. “Brace yourself.”
“I’m ready.” I smiled back, leaning in close to kiss his lips.
“Mamma!Papà!”
“All right,” I almost sang, turning over and placing my feet on the old wooden floor. “We’re coming!”
Matteo stood at the door with Mariano, but Mia had come to snatch her father’s hand, Marciano yanking mine.
