It isn’t Elio calling.
It’s our cousin Valentina.
“Curse!”she says at once.“What the hell is this I hear about you getting married?”
I should have fucking known she’d call.
I creep from the bedroom into the adjoining bathroom so that I don’t wake Aurora.I close the door to dampen the sound of the conversation, but not all the way.Through the gap, I watch Aurora sleeping.
“Elio called me,” Valentina explains.“I can’t believe you’re getting married!And I won’t be there!”
“I wasn’t at your wedding, either,” I remind her.She married Darragh Gowan in Dublin without a single member of her family there.
“Well, technically, you were at the first one,” she says.I can picture the sour look on her face as she brings up her wedding to Sal Di Mauro in Montreal last summer, before bikers shot the place up, killed her husband and wounded her papà, our Uncle Vinny.
The Titones seem to have bad luck with weddings.Elio’s wedding also went to total shit, with half the venue getting blown to smithereens.I’m not superstitious, and the only curse I believe in is my first fucking name.But still…
It makes me a little nervous.
I stare at the unmoving lump that is Aurora under the blankets, as if by merely watching her, I can keep her safe.
“It can’t be helped,” I tell my cousin.“It’s gotta be quick.Low key.”
“Ugh.You’re killing me with this,” Valentina moans.“I never even thought you’d get married.Now, I find out you are with absolutely no warning, and I don’t even get to help plan the event?Curse, you know I live for this shit!”
“Don’t know why you’re so fucking wound-up about it.Not like it’s a real fucking wedding.We’re only staying married for thirty days.Just long enough to get the legal shit sorted out.”I lower my voice when Aurora stirs.Her arms move in her sleep.Like she’s reaching for something.
Or searching for someone.
“Uh huh.Sure.Elio said something similar.”Despite the apparent agreement in her words, she doesn’t sound convinced.I crack the knuckles of my free hand.
“It’s three in the morning, Valentina.Why are you even calling me right now?”
“It’s not three in the morning in Dublin.It’s eight,” she replies breezily.“Darragh’s got business with Amos this morning.Mamma and I are going to go for breakfast.I just wanted to call you to, well, congratulate you, I suppose.”
“Congratulate me on my sham wedding?”
“I guess,” she answers.“Pass on my well wishes to Aurora, too.”She pauses, then repeats the name, much more slowly this time.“Aurora…That begins with the letter A, doesn’t it?”
“Obviously.What’s your point?”
“Nothing at all,” she chirrups brightly.“I think I’ve just finally figured something out, that’s all.Aurora…Yeah, I never got that far in the dictionary.”
Dictionary?
That makes me think of the summer Valentina was thirteen.She spent days reading through the A section of the dictionary, trying to guess what the tattooed letter on my palm stood for.
My jaw ticks.I put the phone down so I can crack the knuckles of that hand now.When I bring the device back up to my ear, I say, “You haven’t figured out fuck-all.”
“Mmhmm,” she says in a sing-song tone that tells me she doesn’t believe a word coming out of my goddamn mouth.“Goodbye, Cuz!Love you.Have awonderfulwedding day!”
I lower the phone, about to stab at the button that will sever the call, but she’s already gone.
Another female voice comes to me then, from the bedroom instead of the phone.Sleep-ragged and sweet.“Curse?”
Aurora has woken up.And in that vulnerable moment, when dreams still claw at the edges of consciousness, she’s calling for me.
“I’m here, angel.”
