Page 46 of Ciao, Amore

Ugh. His unexpected moments of pure sweetness were going to fucking kill her.

Faintly, she heard banging on the bedroom door and Tommy’s voice shouting at them from the other side.

And now she had to pee and go to church.

15

IL MIRACOLO DI SAN GENNARO

NICO

Downstairs at breakfast,the mood was one of excitement. At the same table where they’d had dinner, everybody filled their bellies with a choice of pastry,cornetto,or a sweetsfogliatelle,with the ubiquitous cup of rich espresso.

Dani was doing her best to look alert, but Nico could see the remnants of the under-eye smudges again. He got her some pastries and coffee, throwing locally grown strawberries on her plate for good measure. The breakfast was light and scrumptious, not too much to overwhelm her sensitive tummy.

He still couldn’t believe they’d been interrupted again that morning, this time from the effects of too much wine and amaretto. He also couldn’t believe he’d almost gotten into a fistfight with Fabrizio. He and the other man had always had a rivalry since childhood, mostly revolving around Brizio being taken under Nonno’s wing. He was Nonno’s second. He made no secret of the fact that he would gladly take over management of the company if Nonno made him his heir, but Nico was the natural choice by blood and tradition.

If Brizio thought for a second that he was going to have the woman if he couldn’t have the title, he was sorely misguided. But a drunken fistfight at Nonno’s dinner? Not cool. So unlike either of them. They were rivals, sure, but they were family. Or at least Nico had thought so. This level of betrayal from him was quite frankly fucking hard to swallow.

Thank God the parents and grandparents had all left by then, at least, and had been spared direct embarrassment. He glanced at Brizio sitting at the end of the table next to Nonno, listening. His downcast eyes were bloodshot, and there was a sallow pall to his tanned skin. Maybe Nonno was telling him to back off, and Nico wouldn’t have to say anything else.

In contrast, Steffi was in a great mood, talking up a storm with Dani and the sister-wives. Angelo and Tino were laughing at her stories while Tommy sat listlessly behind big shades. Probably still drunk. Nico frowned at him with concern, then rejoined the chat. Nobody mentioned the fight. Good. Maybe he was the only one who still cared.

“Okay, everybody. It’s time,” Nonno announced.

They piled into their various vehicles and drove the twenty minutes or so into the city center of Naples, leaving the cars in a parking garage and setting off on foot. The only adult who hadn’t seen any of this before was Daniela, and Nonno took special care to have her walk by his side so he could point out and name the various important buildings and landmarks on the way to the Cathedral of Naples. Nico held her hand.

It began to rain by the time they reached the cathedral, which was packed with tourists from other parts of Italy and the world. Nonno said hello to the local priests that were by the cathedral gate. There was a jumbo screen outside where people could watch the events inside, or they could squeeze into one of the chapels and watch on another screen there. Nonno chose to be inside, but the others protested and stayed outside, not wanting to squeeze in with the crowds.

Inside, Nico pointed upward, and Dani followed his finger to look at the ceiling.Ah, yes. Her lips parted and her eyes widened at the intricate golden inlays above them. “Gorgeous,” she said, her eyes shining. It had always been beautiful to him, but seeing her enjoyment of it made it even more special.

“If Nico didn’t tell you already, we’re about to see a miracle,” Nonno said, also smiling at her reaction to the ceiling and the frescoes on the walls. “When he was martyred by the Romans, the blood of Saint Gennaro was collected in a vial. Over time, of course, it dried up. But every year, at this festival, the blood becomes liquid again. It restores the faith of the people and promises prosperity for the city.”

“I read about it,” Dani replied. Then she squinted at him. “But seriously. Liquid, Nonno? Are you sure it’s not a trick?”

“Sure, sure, it is real,” Nonno insisted.

“What happens if it doesn’t liquefy?” she asked.

From the corner of his eye, Nico saw Steffi and Brizio exchange eye rolls and smiles. They humored Nonno’s religious beliefs but didn’t buy any of them. Nico himself? Somewhere in the middle.

“It will happen. You watch,” Nonno said.

They waited while the collection of priests huddled and prayed around the vial, contained within a golden piece with a see-through center. Dani whipped out her phone and turned on the video, holding it up like many other people. The crowd hushed, straining to see either live or via a monitor. Then the priests turned and held up the vial. The blood was liquid. Dani clapped with everyone else as a cheer went up through the onlookers. Nonno crossed himself when the priests passed by, carrying it aloft for all to witness.

“My mom is going to freak out,” Dani said with glee, furiously texting to send the video and other stills to Didi and Andrew back home.

Afterward, when tourists had filtered out to go down to the crypt where the saint’s bones were held in a reliquary, Nonno took them to one of the chapels. “The construction of this chapel,” he told Dani, “was funded by my ancestor Duke Angelo D’Alessio. Nico’s ancestor. The ancestor of your children. You must promise me you’ll bring them here every year to see the miracle.”

Wow. Nico went red hot while Dani stared at Nonno. Was her shock as obvious to everyone else as it was to him? Finally, she nodded and said, “Nico’s children will come here every year. He’ll make sure of it, Nonno.”

And then her soft gaze swept to him, and that moment happened again where she held him captive with those eyes. He thought of his first time seeing her, how she swayed in his arms last night as they danced, and every single moment with her in between.

But for some reason, the image that stood out the most was of her that morning, bent over sick while he held her hair. Strong, self-sufficient Daniela had been Dani, his Dani, letting him care for her. She’d made him feel like the kind man she’d seen in his picture without knowing a single thing about him. Somehow, she’d seen goodness in him, gave him hope that it wasn’t too late for him after all.

This was the miracle, right here; not the blood in the vial, but the hot, fresh blood that pumped through his heart, making the cold, shriveled muscle come alive. He finally had words to describe the goddess who walked into that diner and what she represented.

Hope. Dreams.

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