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I hurried to open the door, expecting my husband to be on the other side, but instead I found Chiara who was carrying her son in her arms.
“Wow, Grazia.” She looked at me from head to toe and giggled. “That’sadress.”
“I was expecting Salvatore.”
“I can tell.”
Francesco jumped from his mother’s arms and came to hug my legs. He petted my hip gently. He didn’t speak, but I knew that was his way of telling me I’m beautiful.
“Thank you,bambino[46]. I think there’s some chocolate cake in the kitchen for you.”
He ran past me and started looking for Totto. Francesco was a sleek little guy and I was sure Pietro and Salvatore would lose no time turning him into a true mafioso. If anyone thought he was at disadvantage because he didn’t find his voice, they’d be dead wrong. He was a smart kid, always observing everything around him.
“Really, Grazia, what’s with the outfit?” Chiara asked. “Special occasion?”
“Your cousin was supposed to take me out tonight.” I said, insipidly.
“He didn’t show.” She concluded.
“Nope.”
She took my hand and pushed me to sit back on the couch and then found a bottle of dry rosé in the wine fridge.
“Grazia, if Salvatore missed your first night out as a married couple, something important must have come up.”
“It would have been our first date in over five years.”
“Oh,” she threw me a glance while pouring us some wine, “that’s right. Well, we both know he’s going to make it up to you.”
“Right. What brings you here?”
“Boredom. Francesco and I were alone, so we went for a walk. We were nearby and decided to stop and see what you’re doing.” She shrugged, trying to dismiss the whole thing like it wasn’t a big deal, but I was starting to have my suspicions. Chiara spent a lot of time at our house and she was always welcomed, but I haven’t seen her husband once. He never called, never came to pick up his wife and son, nothing. I’ve only seen her texting with him a couple of times.
“Bruno’s out again?” I kept my voice leveled, trying to not seem so nosey.
“Like always.” She laughed and rolled her eyes.
“He will get an earful from you, huh?”
“No, not really. We don’t fight.”
“You don’t… ever?”
“Don’t look so surprised.”
“It’s pretty hard not to.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen Chiara and Goliath in the same room without yelling at each other. Their relationship was pretty hard to understand for outside people. All I knew was that they were crazy about each other and fought like mortal enemies.
“I’m someone’s wife and someone’s mother now, aren’t I? Not just a jealous girlfriend.” She emptied her glass and immediately filled it up again.
“Yeah, I just remember you as the girl who burned my brother’s house down hoping he was in it.” It was a bad break up. No, actually, it was the right break up for them.
My words made her gulp down the wine. Again.
“I’m not going to say that wasn’t a little crazy,but,” she got up and pointed a finger at me, “it was your idiot brother who always got the worst out of me. He drove me crazy!” Her voice echoed all over the house.
I covered my smile with the glass. “That’s more like the Chiara I know.”
She sighed and put both hands in her hair. “I guess he still gets the worst out of me.”
