Don Valentini cleared his throat.
“Someone’s jealous.” Mario’s grandfather laughed at his jibe. He shot a quick, “Don’t worry, the man is dead,” to Don Valentini. Then his attention refocused on Mario, and then me. “You two will make magnificent children. I should hope to live to see a hundred and twenty, just to witness them come of age.” He leaned a little to confide in me. “I turned ninety-seven this year.” His eyes wrinkled at the corners, but the distance in his eyes was palpable. “There are eight centenarians in our village. Three years I’ll be lucky number nine.” He wagged his fingers in the air as if to say, “Watch me. I’ll beat all of them.”
“Don Manca, if you are done, we need to talk.” Don Valentini’s interruption was not subtle. His nod included Mario, but not me.
“I’ve said what I needed to say about the matter. My wife and I will retire until dinner.” Mario turned to lead me away, but his father had other plans.
“This cannot wait.”
Even Don Manca took offense. “It absolutely can wait. My grandson is newly married. Business will wait.”
“This business cannot.”
Despite being shorter than Don Valentini, Don Manca squared off in front of him. Loppa took three steps out of the corner and watched for any threats.
Don Manca shook a finger in front of his son-in-law’s face. “When you married my daughter I did not ask for your loyalty, but you agreed to allow her and any of her children to remain loyal to me, only me. Did you forget?”
“I did not.”
“Then your business waits.”
Don Valentini hesitated, but then dipped his head. “Of course.” He took two steps back before turning to leave the room.
However, the tension didn’t dissipate. The anger in Don Manca’s eyes fixed on the doorway his son in law departed from. He mused aloud in English so I’d overhear. “Mario is my youngest daughter’s child. Her mother was my third wife. I’d divorced one, and buried another before I married his grandmother. And she was the one great love of my life.” He turned to face me. “Remember this when you prop him up to play his father’s show pony. He is all I have left of her.”
He motioned for my hand, the one with the ring on it. Age or emotion made his hands shake as he lifted the emblem closer to get better light on it. “This was one of two rings ever made with this seal. One is buried with my wife.” His sharp eyes met mine. “My grandson is not a foolish man. But I fear Death has tapped his shoulder and muddled his mind. Do not be his downfall. I will not forgive that.”
“Don Manca,” Mario tried to reason with him.
“No. Do not cajole me. This is not a game.” He gripped my hand hard. “You made this woman your wife. And with this ring, you swore there would be no other while you both live.”
That declaration was awful, scary, and tragic. What if I was just a fevered bad decision? What if?—
“There is no other for me.”
Oh, Mario. I wanted to plead with him to walk that back for his sake. I also wanted terribly for his words to be true, forever. I wanted to be his one great love. But we weren’t even close to making that choice yet.
Don Manca dropped my hand. “I hope you are not lying to me.” With that, he motioned for Loppa to follow him.
“Was that a shit show, or was it just my imagination?”
Mario’s exhale was heavy. “It went about as well as I expected.”
Great. At least one of us planned for this. “More rest. Real rest this time.”
Mario’s lips curved upward.
“I mean it.”
He shot me a sly look and held out his hand. “Death has tapped me on the shoulder.”
In response, the sound I made wasn’t pleasant. It revealed all my frustration and perhaps a small amount of the terror coursing through me. “That’s enough of that talk. You are not dying today.”
“You’ve never attended one of Father’s formal dinners then.”
Was that a joke?
God, I hoped it was.
