I kept imagining it, and each time I did, I kept adding to it or taking things away. To say I was curious was an understatement. But then the meeting would come to my mind, and I’d get angry again.
“You do not want to take this walk,SignoraFausti?” Ermanno asked me while he bent down and snagged a rock from the ground. He flung it in the distance just to watch the fog eatit up. It was almost like he was throwing it in water that had no barrier to make a splash.
“Call me Ari,” I said. “And what would make you think I don’t want to go for a walk?”
He scrunched his nose and folded his arms. He shrugged. “This is why.”
“Oh.” I grinned. “I look mad.”
“You do.”
I waved a hand. “I keep thinking back to my husband’s bloodied shoulder.”
He pulled the same face. “I understand this. Francesco and his line are underhanded. I spend time with his line when we have celebrations. The night of the harvest celebration, when the sparkler caught fire, Francesco’s line was out in the woods pretending the lit sticks weresigarette.” He put his first two fingers together, his second two fingers touching his thumb, and mimicked smoking. “Childish! How do they even claim to have Fausti blood?”
“How do they, indeed,” I said, trying not to smile.
Saved by Aunt Lola and Uncle Tito, I set the smile free when I turned towardNel Cieloand saw two soldiers pushing the two out in their wooden wheelchairs. Aunt Lola and Uncle Tito were dressed as though we were in Switzerland during winter, including thick hats and blankets, but they were as sweet as they could be, holding hands while they were being wheeled out.
My eyes narrowed against the glare, and I moved my sunglasses from the top of my head to my eyes. “Have I ever told you both how sweet it is to see both of you still in love?”
Aunt Lola laughed. “It takes work, and patience, but when love is true…it is sweeter than a grape on the vine. Not a wine grape, mind you, but the kind you eat.”
“I’ll take this,” I said to the solider, stepping behind Aunt Lola’s chair and holding onto the handles. The solider nodded to me and stood off to the side.
Ermanno waved the other solider off, stepping up behind Uncle Tito. The soldier’s face tightened so hard, if he would’ve tried to smile, he would’ve cracked. I didn’t want him to hurt Ermanno, so I thanked him for rolling Uncle Tito out, and said we had it from there.
The soldier’s face softened a pinch. “Prego,SignoraFausti. However, your husband requested we stay with you during the walk.”
I nodded. This solider would just blend in with the other soldiers around. All of them were armed—looking forcinghiali,or wild men with weapons instead of tusks. Rocco was paranoid about my safety after the night of the celebration. I stepped to the side ofNel Cielosome, and he was standing by the window, sipping his whiskey, listening to the men in his office talk business. He wanted me to stay on a certain path, and I knew why. He could watch us walk from his office window.
I waved to him, then kissed my palm and sent it in his direction. He acted as if he was catching it, then he set it over his heart. I waved again when Aunt Lola demanded we get started. She said she loved it in Piemonte. She had always loved the property. It was especially romantic with its wine, weather, and the views. I had to agree. We chatted about this while Ermanno and Uncle Tito spoke about the night of the celebration, when he’d come face to face with a real lifecinghiale.This was all exciting for Uncle Tito, and then he askedErmanno if he enjoyed boxing. Ermanno’s face went blank for a moment before the two started up about the sport.
Aunt Lola reached behind and squeezed my hand, laughing some. “Let us go this way,Nipote Biscottina,” she said, pointing in the opposite direction. A slew of mums that had been leftbehind to fend for themselves seemed to grow wild on the property.
The flowers were a mixture of gold and pumpkin orange, and Aunt Lola was excited to take a ride between the rows of them. I had to hold tight to the handles. We were on a slope, and I didn’t want a runaway wheelchair situation, although she seemed adventurous enough for it. I could tell she had always been a spitfire. I guessed growing up in a house full of Fausti men, being the only woman, had to have toughened her up a bit, though she had a princess-like aura about her.
“Ahh, park me here,Nipote Biscottina.” She pointed to a spot in the sun. “Chrysanthemums are one of my favorite flowers. I shared this in common with my mamma.” She became quiet after that, then sighed. While she basked in the sun a bit, I began picking some of them to set around the house. The colors were spectacular. They would bring a bit of fall inside.
An especially cold wind rustled through the trees, and a few dark clouds passed over the sun. I made sure Aunt Lola was covered well before I started picking the flowers again. When I had an arm full, Aunt Lola pointed to her lap.
“I can hold them.”
“Grazie.”
I handed them over, and when I did, a solider magically appeared with garden sheers and a basket. I thanked him, then handed the basket to Aunt Lola while I kept clipping, grateful to have the full force of the sun back.
“The sun feels so nice.” She sighed. She closed her eyes to it, then watched me as I continued. “You are so much like Avelina.”
This stopped me. I cleared my throat. “My grandmother always told me the same.” Sometimes it stopped me in my tracks when I remembered Aunt Lola had been the sister of Ricco and Francesco, also Marzio, who was my husband’s grandfather. She had been close to the people I could only imagine inside of myhead. She had eaten with them, laughed and carried on with them, cried with them, was close to them.
She nodded. “Elisabetta didn’t speak to us much when we were in town.” She sighed. “I liked your grandmother, but I have always understood what my last name meant in the world. By association, I could either be loved or hated. In America, a man gives his wife his last name. This is not our way in Italy. No hiding from the truth behind your last name. Even if it is our way to be as ruthless as we are romantic.” She shrugged. “I am proud of the blood in my veins. As far as I am concerned, I have worn the name well. I am not a man in this family. I did not ever have to abide by the same rules. Violence did not come as second nature to me.”
Spoken like a true Italian princess. I smiled. “Did your family dote on you?”
She grinned. “I have to say yes. I was the youngest and the only girl. However, the strength of my brothers did not skip me. I was as capable as any of my formidable brothers. Muscle is not the win-all. I have always had brain strength—where it truly counted. The fox does not outwit the lion with brawn.”
I matched her grin. “The first time I met you, I could sense that about you.”
