I only saw him beat up the one in the alleyway, but Chiara told me about the ones before that, and about how quickly and effortlessly he handled those.
I wish I was free to just go out into the hall and spend the whole day chatting with him.Or better yet, take him on a date and then dancing, and then to my bed.
But I’m not free like that.And I’m not curse-free either.So it’s much better for everyone that I just stay wrapped up in my blanket, watching cheesy movies about things I’ll never get to do in real life.Not with a man I desire and love, anyway.
The door to my bedroom opens, the bright light hurting my eyes after spending so much time in the dark with just the TV on.
“Mom made dinner,” Lidia says.“She wants us all there.”
“Well, be that as it may, I’m not going,” Chiara yells from behind her back.
I want to say the same.I actually never want to leave my bedroom again.The world outside is full of things I want but can’t have, and full of things I’ll destroy if I do get them.Best to just stay in, hidden, warm and cozy.Nothing bad ever happens in my bedroom.But nothing much at all ever happens in here either.
“She says it’s not optional,” Lidia says, loud enough for both me and Chiara to hear her.“She says she’ll drag both of you there if she has to.And I’m sick of being the messenger so I’m just gonna let her do it.Half an hour, she said.”
She retreats but leaves my door open.
I have no doubt my mom will do exactly what she threatened if I’m not at the dining table in half an hour, but it still takes a big chunk of my will power to get out of bed.Mostly because I don’t want to sit at the table in my ratty high-school T-shirt.Bad enough that Matteo had to see me in it.I should burn it now.
I shower quickly and scrub the remainder of last night’s makeup off my face.Then I put on a comfy tracksuit that is nice enough for the dinner table and walk to my parents’ apartment via the living room door, not waiting for my sisters.Maybe I’ll get to speak to Dad before dinner.I want to apologize for the way I acted and for sneaking out in the first place.And thank him for sparing Matteo’s life… but no, I can’t show any interest in him.Dad might take it the wrong way—or the right way, more like—and remove him.
Mom’s set up the large dining room table, everything arranged just so, the way only she can make it.She used the fine China with the tiny golden roses worked into the edges and the table is decorated nicer than anything I’ve ever seen in those home decor images online.There’s beautiful, embroidered napkins, handwoven placemats, scented candles, as well as vases of twigs and branches, some still bearing dried flowers.She must’ve spent the whole afternoon setting this up and I’m sorry now that I didn’t make an effort to dress nicer.
“It looks amazing, Mamma,” I tell her as she joins me in the dining room, carrying a crystal vase with a bouquet made of white, yellow, and pink roses.She must’ve arranged that herself too.Where does she find the time?
But I know the answer to that.She has all the time in the world being locked up in here just as I am.And all the money she needs to buy everything and anything her heart desires.
“It is, isn’t it?”she says as she carefully places the vase on the table, right in the middle.
“Please don’t be mad anymore, Mom,” I say.“I’m twenty-one, I just had my birthday, I wanted to have a little fun.”
She pierces me with her light blue eyes, her lips pulled into a thin line.“I was a mother at twenty-one,” she says.“And I buried that child a year ago.I will not bury any more children.I will not!So find another way to have fun.Please.”
Her bottom lip is shaking as she delivers that speech, then she rushes past my dad who was just entering the dining room.
He mutters, “What’s wrong, Bianca?”as she passes, but she doesn’t hear him.Pain is etched into his face as he faces me and my sisters who have just walked in too.
“Let’s try and have a nice dinner,” Dad says and walks to the table, taking his seat at the head of it.My brother would sit to his left and my mom to his right, my twin sisters beside her and me by my brother.That’s how it had always been.Now I don’t know where to sit, because my brother’s dead and this is the first time we’re eating in this room since he died.
Dad taps the spot to his left for me to take, while Lidia and Chiara take their usual seat.
Mom’s put a tablecloth over the marble tabletop, but the cold of the stone still seeps through, radiating off it.And it gets even worse as mom comes back in, followed by the housekeeper Honoria, who is carrying a steaming bowl of soup.Mushroom, I think, as my stomach flips, because it’s my least favorite.But I’ll eat all of it, because I know it’s mom’s favorite and was my brother’s too.And because mom’s hands are shaking, her eyes rimmed in a permanent kind of red that no amount of makeup can hide.
“I’m sorry for being so reckless,” I say as Honoria starts ladling the soup into our plates.
Chiara shoots me a murderous look.
“Well, I’m not,” she says.“Why can’t we have some fun?We’re clearly never getting married.”
Dad seems to shrink in his seat somehow.
“You will be married,” he says in a quiet voice, so different from the one he used back in the day when he first informed us our duty to the family is to marry the men he chooses for us.He was self-assured then, now he sounds almost broken.I hate thinking that.
“And until you do, you’ll stay inside,” Mom adds.“You’ll only go outside with guards.These are very dangerous times.”
“When are they ever not?”Chiara asks.If she keeps this up, she’ll be storming out of here before the main course arrives and then my mom’s dinner will be ruined.I don’t want that.
Dad stands up and walks to the liquor cabined where a carafe of blood red wine is waiting.He pours some for each of us, even Chiara and Lidia.I drink half my glass before he’s even done pouring for the rest of them, the velvet smoothness and fresh fruity taste instantly making me feel a little better.Maybe I love wine a little too much.But no one’s ever said anything about it, so I’ll continue pretending I love it just enough.
