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Sabina nodded, sighing.
“Me too.” The stroke of Mama’s hand on her hair soothed, despite her anger the night before. “Mi dispiaci, Sabina. I shouldn’t have judged you so harshly.”
A bitter laugh slipped from her throat. “Why not? You were right, Mama. I never should have had anything to do with him.”
Mama’s breath released in a weary sigh. “No, you shouldn’t have. Not while you were engaged to Enzo. But you’re young, and you thought yourself in love with him. I remember well enough how that feels. It gets the best of our good sense sometimes.”
Sabina blinked rapidly, tried to push aside her rising tears by studying her reflection beside her mother’s. On the surface, they looked so much alike—darkest brown hair, though Mama’s was still long and worn pinned up most of the time. Deepest brown eyes, made deeper still by Mama’s years of illness and that horrible loss of their sweet girl. Sabina’s face was still smooth and unlined, but it was Mama’s cheekbones that gave it shape, Mama’s lips on her own mouth.
All she’d ever wanted was to be like Mama. But her mother never would have done something like this. “I’ve ruined us, Mama. What am I going to do now?”
“Oh, cara. Your papa will get out of this, you’ll see. We’ll be fine. We’ll forget all about Roman, and then you’ll marry Enzo in August and work on giving me a bambino to dote on.”
A sob bent her shoulders with its force. “It’s too late for that! Enzo doesn’t want me anymore—if he ever really did. You saw how mad he was last night. I’ve lost him, too. I never thought—I should have known—”
“Hush.” Mama folded her into her arms, held her tight, and rocked back and forth, just as she had done for as long as Sabina could remember. “Enzo has loved you all your life, Sabina. He may be mad now, but he’ll forgive you.”
Sabina lifted her head so that she could look her mother in the eye. They were the same height, but it still felt as though she had to look up to see Mama clearly. In her eyes she saw limitless faith; certainty had overcome the gnawing fear of last night. Confidence brimmed from Mama’s smile—the same confidence that had always foretold Sabina’s future. She would marry Lorenzo and bear Lorenzo’s children. Mama had been the only one who never said he was destined for the Church, who always claimed he was destined for Sabina instead.
Mama had been wrong after all.
Sabina shook her head. “You didn’t see him when he found out. It wasn’t just anger, Mama. He may forgive me someday”—it would be the righteous thing to do, and Enzo was always righteous—“but he will never give me another chance. And…and maybe that’s for the best.”
Mama tsked, clearly ready to say something, but Sabina squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head again. “I can’t live the rest of my life at his side, knowing I will never be anything but a disappointment to him.”
“Cara, you don’t give either of you enough credit. Enzo will put this in the past. He will be a good husband to you, and you will be his delight and his joy, as you have always been.”
Delight? Joy? She hadn’t brought him either of those things since they became engaged. “But—”
“Hush.” A finger landed on Sabina’s lips to make sure she obeyed. “You are still upset. Once you’ve had time to think things through, I’m sure you’ll realize that Lorenzo is the best thing for you. Now, go get dressed. We have a lot to do today, starting with a visit to your father.”
She obeyed, because that was what she did when Mama issued a command. But her motions felt distant as she pulled the rags from her hair and combed the curls into waves, as she selected a dress, as she rolled her stockings up her legs. It was as if someone else were completing each step.
She paused mid-reach for a pair of silver earrings, staring at herself in the mirror of her dressing table. Why did she even bother? There was no one to care how she looked, no one to impress. The dress with its embroidery and height-of-fashion lines, the dangling earrings—they would be wasted.
No. No, they were for Papa. Papa needed to know that his principessa was standing strong for him, even if she was quaking inside.
“Arrivederci, Sabina.”
She looked up to see her brother stick his head in the door. His dark hair was slicked back, his smile tight with mutiny. He gave her a wave and made to duck away, but she jumped up and halted him with a sound that meant, “Not so fast, young man!”
He paused in the hallway with a sigh, barely even rolling his eyes as she straightened his collar and smoothed down the cowlick that no amount of pomade could ever tame.
A smile made Sabina’s lips twitch before reality blew it away. She’d been fighting that cowlick for thirteen years, but she didn’t mind that it always won. The joy was in the smoothing. Her brother was taller than she was now, but she still narrowed her eyes at him like she’d been doing all his life. “No ducking out of work today, G. Papa wouldn’t want you skipping out just because of all that’s happened.”
Little G directed his gaze heavenward in exasperation. “Relax, sis. Mama already gave me the lecture. ‘Uncle Franco and Vanni have everything under control. My job is to honor my obligations to cousin Max.’”
He was such a good boy. Love for him made her chest go tight. Maybe she’d failed at everything else in life, but she’d done a good job with him and Serafina while Mama was ill. She could take some comfort in that, even if the prospects of ever having children of her own were suddenly slim. “I’m glad you have it committed to memory.”
“But I don’t see why you get to go see Papa this morning while I—”
“Enough.” Sabina raised a hand, and her brother bit off the rest of his complaint. “You wanted a summer job, and now you must bear the responsibilities.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but he pressed his lips against whatever retort he wanted to make, then leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I know. And I will. Ciao, Bina.” She kissed him back, needing to stand on her toes to accomplish it, and patted his other cheek. Soon, a beard would grow on that smooth skin, and Papa would have to teach him how to shave.
Papa. They had to get him out. He had to come home, show G how to grow into manhood. He must.
Her brother moved away, and their mother moved into the hallway from her own bedroom, sighing to a halt beside Sabina. “He has grown too fast. It seems like he should be a little bambino still, does it not?”
