Page 145 of Storm and Sea

When Marina began to hum an incredibly out-of-tune melody, Nyel asked for the name of the song just to get her talking.

“Oh, just a lullaby Mamma used to sing to me.”

Nyel paused at this. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you talk about her,” he probed, hoping he wasn’t entering sensitive territory, but the look on Marina’s face only confirmed his suspicions.

“Yeah. She was… Mamma had…” Marina chewed on the sentence for a moment, her hands pausing in their task. “Mamma had a big heart.”

Nyel continued folding the flowers, listening carefully.

“Her heart was so big she tried to fit the entire world inside. And I think, to some extent, she succeeded. Her paintings changed the world. They touched so many people. She was truly an incredible artist.”

There was definitely a ‘but,’ and Nyel waited for it, afraid that if he interrupted, Marina would stop. And when it came, her voice trembled.

“But with the whole world in her heart, sometimes I think she forgot about little old me.”

“And… your dad?”

“Didn’t know I existed until I was nine years old,” Marina stated matter-of-factly. “Mamma was pregnant when she left Baia Vita. Off to the big city to chase her dreams, and Papá couldn’t follow her. And I’m glad he didn’t. The city would have crushed him.”

“So your mom never told him?”

Marina shook her head. “Papá didn’t know about me until she sent him a letter. She willed everything to me and made me promise to go to school. She died after that.” Nyel reached across the table and squeezed Marina’s hand. She sniffed loudly, blinking hard. “Jeez, I’m done with crying! Caspita, it feels like that’s all I’ve been doing the past two days. My emotions are all over the place.”

“That’s partially my fault. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re here now. That’s what matters. Now shut up and fold faster.”

Nyel smiled and set to work. This time, he didn’t interrupt her tone-deaf humming.

A few hours later, the wafting smell of fried foods met them through the open window. Nyel’s stomach growled.

“You can go if you want. I’ll finish up; there isn’t much left,” Marina said, threading another needle.

“Are you sure?” But he was already standing. He’d been looking forward to another festival all season.

“Yeah, go. I’ll be at the stand with Papà later tonight.”

He said goodbye and hurried downstairs, eager to catch up with Atreus so they could enjoy the festivities together. But when he descended the stairs, the pescheria was empty. Assuming Atreus had already gone outside, Nyel left the building and waved to Horace, who sat in his rocking chair with Niccolo purring on his lap, soaking in the ambiance.

And what an ambiance it was.

The square was even more decorated than last time. The city volunteers sensed the community’s dismay over the harsh season and put in extra effort for tonight.

Strings of lights hung between the buildings, off balconies, and around signposts. Everything pulsed with energy. Potted marigolds lined the dancing square, their yellow blooms catching the light and sparkling as if dusted with glitter.

Every stall was lit up with its own arrangements of shapes and colors. That was where he found Atreus, stringing blue bulbs above the pescheria’s stall of fried fish and squid on a stick.

Nyel snuck up behind him, a devious smile creeping up his cheeks. When Atreus’s arms were raised to string more lights, he pounced, pinching either side of his waist. Atreus yelled, jumping and dropping the lights.

Nyel erupted in a fit of laughter, falling to his knees at Atreus’s incredulous expression.

“It wasn’t that funny.”

“You sounded like Niccolo in the bath!” Nyel hollered.

“I’m warning you, Ny,” Atreus said, shaking his head, “I don’t get angry. I get even.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Nyel bumped his hip into Atreus’s and helped him fasten the string of lights. “Are you done? Can we go?” he begged, practically vibrating with excitement.