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“She’s been good,” Maddie says softly. “I don’t know how long it’ll last. The nights are getting harder.”
“You’re so damn patient. I don’t know how you do it.”
“Renzo needs me.” She laughs when Brando kicks the ball over. I roll it away, aware that I’m playing fetch with him, but the kid’s happy, so whatever. “The war’s still going on. He thought it would be done by now.”
“We all did.” My smile fades. When my father joined, everyone figured it would be weeks before the Russians and the Irish begged for peace. Instead, they’ve only fought harder.
“That’s why I take on as much as I can. To make sure Renzo’s taken care of, since God knows he won’t take care of himself.”
“On top of being a mother?”
“Well, it’s my job, and anyway, I like looking out for him. And for Stella. She’s a good person, just… sick.”
“You’re a more patient person than me.”
“No kidding.” She goes back to pruning as I return to playing with Brando. I love spending time with this little boy, and I think of it as practicing for when my own baby’s here.
I feel happy. It’s not hard to identify the emotion. Joy suffuses everything these days. I’m comfortable at the Rossi house with Maddie, and I’ve even struck up a decent friendship with Gian’s brothers. Saul and I are pals, which nobody saw coming, definitely not me. But he’s a decent guy.
I miss my family. I haven’t spoken to my father since that night at the bowling alley. None of my uncles have called, and none of my cousins have reached out, except for Sophia. She’s the only Rinaldo still talking to me. The ex-communication remains in place, and everyone’s too afraid to go against my father’s wishes. It breaks my heart, but there’s nothing I can do about it.
At least I found a place for myself here.
“Allegra.” I look over as Gian comes down the back steps. He’s carrying a water bottle and wearing a scowl. “What did I tell you?”
“It’s not even hot out,” I complain as Brando runs at him, shouting like a little monster.
He bends down and scoops the little boy up without breaking stride. The kid kicks and thrashes, laughing wildly as Gian tickles him, and barely escapes when Gian puts him back down. He runs over to me and grabs onto my leg.
“The bad man!” he yells.
“Drink this at least,” he says, shoving the water into my hand. I roll my eyes, but secretly I’m pleased.
“Fine. You fuss too much. I’m pregnant?—”
“Not disabled, yeah, I know, you say that like a dozen times a day.”
“She really does, doesn’t she?” Maddie adds from over near the bushes.
Brando runs circles around Gian, taunting him. “Bad man! Bad man!” It’s a game they place. Gian’s the villain and Brando’s the good guy, and Gian has to chase Brando down and tickle him.
“I can take over for a little while if you want,” he says, touching my arm. I step forward into his arms. Brando squeals and hugs our legs. “If you need a little break.”
“I’m good. This beast is getting a little too aggressive though.” Brando’s punching our legs.
“He really is a creature.” Gian flicks his head which only makes him attack harder, laughing the whole time.
“How about we go for a walk around the garden? Maybe the little beastie can get some exercise on the way.”
“Beastie!” Brando tears away, trips, falls, gets right back up, and keeps on running. I wish I had the joints and pain tolerance of a two-year-old.
I hold Gian’s hand as we follow Brando down the paths. He doesn’t go far—the kid’s used to wandering through his mother’s overflowing garden. I enjoy the company and Brando’s laughter as he yanks at flowers he’s not supposed to touch and throws dirt in the air. The kid really is a creature.
“I’m meeting Sophia for dinner tonight. Think that’s okay?”
“Should be,” Gian says. “I’m sending guards though.”
“So long as they’re discreet, it should be fine.”
