Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“It’s true,” I confirm. “And I am deeply, deeply scarred because of it.”
Freddie laughs and takes a long drink. “That girl’s been through her fair share of problems. I’m really grateful to you, you know.”
“Grateful?” I tilt my head toward her. “Come on, there’s nothing to be grateful about.”
“People don’t take to my youngest daughter.” A quiet, distant stare takes over Freddie’s face. “She wasn’t always like this, you know. She was the funniest little girl, always laughing and dancing and running around. She got into so much trouble.” She stops talking and I can hear the pain in her voice, but she shakes her head and takes a deep breath. “Anyway, thank you for being patient with her.”
I put my hand on Freddie’s arm and she smiles at me, blinking away tears. A few months ago, I never would’ve imagined comforting her, but we’ve grown to really love each other.
“I’m happy,” I say and I hope she understands what I mean: I’m happy to be Laura’s friend and sister-in-law, but I’m also happy to be sitting on this porch with her, to be married to Davide, to be a part of this family. I’m happy beyond my wildest dreams.
“I know, dear. We’re happy too.” She pats my hand and we lapse back into a comfortable silence. I’m sleepy and content, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to fall asleep if I finish this glass of wine, but there isn’t anywhere in the entire world I’d rather be right now.
I miss home. I miss my brothers. But that’s a normal ache, a manageable hole in my life, because so much of me has been filled by my role here.
A wife, a partner, a worthwhile member of this family.
It’s what I’ve always been searching for, and I found it right here in this oasis.
“Uh-oh,” Freddie says, nodding down the block. “Trouble’s coming.”
I follow her gaze and spot Davide sauntering toward us. “Should I run?” I ask her and finish my wine. “He looks like he’s up to no good.”
“He’ll just chase you down,” she says with a sigh. “Might as well face the inevitable.”
Davide stops at the bottom of the porch, one foot on the bottom step, and leans forward against his knee. He’s tanned and strong, his face happy and open, and his muscles press against his tight dress shirt. I’m always amazed at how big he is and how attractive I find him. And it helps that he’s always showing off those delectable forearms of his. Probably because I admitted one time how much they turn me on, which was absolutely a mistake.
“Ladies,” he says, smiling at me. “I heard you two were out here causing problems.”
“Funny,” Freddie says, “we were just saying the same thing about you.”
His eyebrows raise in mock horror. “I’m a saint, Mother. How dare you suggest otherwise.”
“Darling, I know none of my children are saints, but I love you idiots anyway.”
He grins at her and the way they love each other makes my heart triple in size.
“I’m here to borrow my wife,” he says and holds out a hand. “Mind going for a little walk? I’ll return her shortly, I promise.”
“No rush, I’ll be here.” Freddie winks at me and I get up, taking my sweet time, before accepting his hand in mine.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, husband?” I ask as I hold onto his arm and lean against him. We move slowly toward the far end of the oasis, staying on the sidewalk beneath the shade trees. The smell of summer’s in the air: barbecue, coal smoke, and flower pollen.
“What, I can’t come find my dolcezza for no reason other than to enjoy her company?”
“In that case, you have me. Enjoy away.”
He laughs and steals a quick kiss on the corner of my mouth. We walk without talking for a bit and spot Alessandro talking with one of his guards across the street. He’s leaning on his crutches and he looks exhausted, but he always looks exhausted these days. The war’s still going, but it cooled off for the summer; the cops were getting too antsy and were on the edge of cracking down, and both sides decided it was best to take a break. But I’m afraid it won’t last long.
“I’m worried about him,” Davide murmurs, watching his father limp away, a scowl on the older man’s face. “People are talking about him.”
“He’ll be okay,” I say, even though I’m not sure that’s true. I’ve heard the talk too. Everyone thinks Alessandro is in over his head, that he’s too old and too injured, that he doesn’t have the strength to take down Santoro once the fighting starts up again. And everyone agrees it will start up.
I’m worried for him. I’m worried for all of them. But Davide needs me to be steady, and so I’ll be steady.