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When he had children with Mona. Beautiful, royal children. A wave of envy, fierce and cold, sent her spirits plummeting.
Max, who she didn’t realize had disappeared, returned carrying a pair of paper coffee cups. “All this time I’ve been thinking Babbo Natale was some old-world European tradition and it turns out he’s a more athletic version of Santa Claus,” he said, tilting his head to where Armando was teasing a young girl with a stuffed rabbit. “I feel cheated.”
“If it makes you feel better, there are Corinthians who embrace Befana.”
“What’s that?”
“An Italian witch who arrives on Epiphany.”
The American’s lips turned downward. “A witch on Christmas?”
“More like a crone. She brings treats.”
“In that case, yes, I do feel better.” He handed her one of the paper cups. “Turns out marrying the princess comes with some benefits. I mentioned wanting an espresso and the caterer made me two. You look like you could use a cup.”
“Thank you.” Caffeine sounded like just what she needed to perk her sagging mood. “Speaking of Arianna, where is she?”
“Putting up her feet in the back room,” he replied. “Sitting on the piano stool for so long was hard on her back.”
“She should have said something.”
“Are you kidding? You know what Arianna’s like when it comes to pianos. She was having way too much fun.” From the center of the room, a child let out a high-pitched squeal. “Sounds like they’re having fun, too,” he noted.
“Who? The children or Prince Armando?”
“Both. I think this is the first time I’ve actually seen Arianna’s brother smile. Granted, I’ve only known him about a week, so I might be misjudging...”
“No, you’re not,” Rosa replied, thinking of the media’s nickname. “Prince Armando isn’t known for his jovial side in public. This is definitely one of the few events where he truly lets himself relax and enjoy the moment.”
“Hard not to enjoy yourself when you’re around children,” she added, as out on the floor Armando scooped up another toddler. “Although some people can’t shake their mean streaks no matter what. If they could, we wouldn’t need a place like Christina’s Home.” Wives wouldn’t be made to feel like second-class citizens simply because they weren’t perfect or, heaven forbid, carried a few extra pounds.
“Tell me about it,” Max said. The bitterness in his voice surprised her. “Only thing that made my old man happy was a bottle. Or smacking my mom.”
Rosa winced. “Some people need to mistreat their loved ones to feel better about themselves.”
“That sounds like personal knowledge.”
“A little.”
He paused to look at her over his cup. “Your father was an A-hole, too? Pardon the language.”
“No, my ex-husband.” Normally, she avoided talking about Fredo, especially here at the shelter where there were women who had suffered far worse than she, but it was hard to brush off a kindred spirit. “And the word you used is a very apt description.”
“I’m sorry.”
Rosa stared at her untouched espresso, grateful he didn’t press for more. But then, one of things about a kindred spirit was they didn’t want to share either, so not asking worked to their benefit. “Me, too,” she replied. “But at least when I finally worked up the courage to leave, I had people to turn to. I’m not sure what I would have done otherwise.” Most likely, she would be with Fredo still, fifty pounds heavier and with her self-esteem completely eroded.
“So Christina’s Home is more than a memorial to your sister then,” Max said.
“My sister would have been the first person to say we need places like Christina’s Home,” she replied. She also would have been horrified to learn about the truth of Rosa’s marriage. “But yes. If someone like me, with connections to the king, of all people, had trouble working up the courage to leave, I can’t imagine what it is like for a woman who has no one.”
Max’s tight smile said he knew but wasn’t going to talk about it. “At least you left eventually. More power to you.”
Much to Rosa’s relief, he tossed his crumpled paper cup into a nearby trash bin, indicating the conversation was over. “I better go check on Arianna and make sure she’s truly resting. She’s only just over the morning sickness stuff, and I don’t want her pushing herself more than she needs to.”
“If she’s anything like her brother, she will,” Rosa replied. “When the Santoros make a commitment, they do so one hundred and ten percent. It’s ingrained in their DNA.”
