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“Please, call me Carlotta. We don’t need to stand on ceremony.” She smiles at my daughter. “And this is Sophia. What a lovely child.”
“Thankyou.”
“I’ll be back between five and six to pick you up,” Dante says to me. Then he levels a look at his mother. “No invasions.”
No what? I glance between them, not sure I heard correctly. Carlotta’s chin comes up. “And since when, Dante Adamo, do you tell me what I can do in my ownhome?”
“Ma, she doesn’t needthat.”
Out comes the Italian again, but this time Dante answers her, and they’re clearly arguing. It’s fascinating to listen to. Judging by her wide eyes, Sophie agrees.
Since I don’t speak Italian, their conversation is mostly a jumble to me. One word, though, stands out. Familia.
She lets him have the last word, but I’m not at all certain that means he won. Dante comes to me. “You want me, you call. Don’t worry about me being at work. Justcall.”
I still don’t know what’s going on, but I understand he’s making me a promise. “I will.” And that I’ve just made one in return.
The set of his jaw softens a bit. “Good. I’ll see you soon.” He grazes the backs of his knuckles over Sophie’s cheek, very gently, then bends down and touches his mouth, feather light, tomine.
Oh. I watch him walk away, my lips tingling, my fingers over them as if to keep him with me. Carlotta moves up to stand at myside.
I’m not aware the words are there until they come out. “I’m in love with yourson.”
“I know, dear.”
Slowly, my head turns until I’m looking at her. “I’m scared.”
“Love is a powerful and frightening force.” She smiles. “And the only thing that can heal the world. Shall we go and sitdown?”
