Page 42 of The Virgin's Dance with the Devil
“Nothing,” her mother said, kissing her on both cheeks.
“Then why the wheelchair?”
“The walk to the beach is a bit much for your dad, that’s all.”
Kissing her dad on both cheeks, she studied his face closely. In the early days of his disease, her mother had frequently lied to her daughters, wanting to spare them worry. As a result, she’d become an expert on the little tells they made when they lied. “You’resurenothing’s wrong?”
“The only thing wrong is my stomach – I’m ready for my lunch.” Her father smiled, then turned to his wife and pointed at one of the sofa sets artfully scattered throughout the reception. “Park me over there, my love.”
The wheelchair dutifully parked, Marisa and hermother helped Pietro to his feet. Her mother expertly unfolded the walking stick and handed it to him, then in an undertone whispered to Marisa, “The nurse paid us a visit last night and made your father see the light about using a wheelchair when it’s needed.”
If Marisa wasn’t so very aware of Rico waiting close to them, she would punch the air. Instead, she smiled her relief at the news, then took a deep breath and said, “If you’re going to lunch, can we join you?”
“You don’t have to ask…” Her mother’s words trailed off, her smile freezing as she simultaneously registered thewein Marisa’s question and the hulking man standing only a little apart from them, watching them intently. Her face paled, lips pulling into a tight line as comprehension dawned.
It was her father who broke the tension. Although the knuckles of his fingers holding his walking stick had whitened, his voice was remarkably steady. “We’d be delighted for you both to join us, wouldn’t we, Sofia?”
Her mother’s nod was automatic, her dark brown eyes bouncing from Marisa to Rico and back again.
“You’re Federico?” her father asked, extending a shaking hand out to him.
Rico clasped it gently but firmly. “Yes. Please, call me Rico.”
“Delighted to. I’m Pietro, this good lady here is my wife, Sofia.”
“Great to meet you both.” Nodding at the door in the distance that led to the main restaurant, he added, “Shall we?”
Finally expelling the breath she’d not even been aware had stuck in her throat, Marisa slipped her hand into Rico’s.
Keeping pace with her father’s shuffling gait, they slowly crossed the reception. She’d wait until they’d all eaten before telling them about Luisa, she decided, and it was as she was thinking this that she felt a tug onher arm and turned to find her sister and brother-in-law standing there, so many emotions flickering on Luisa’s face that picking out one was impossible.
“Tell me I’m seeing things?” she whispered.
“Tell meI’mseeing things,” Marisa riposted with a lightness she didn’t feel, noticing the protective way Gennaro stood beside her sister and the expression in his eyes. It was like the Iceman had melted.
In the time that had passed since Luisa had messaged, they’d made up over whatever it was that had been bad enough to make Luisa want to go home, and looking again at Gennaro, Marisa had a sudden strong feeling that come Monday, no divorce was going to be filed by either of them.
“I’m not the one holding hands with an Esposito.” Luisa fixed her stare on Rico and hissed, “What thefuckare you doing with my sister?”
“Luisa!” Marisa gasped, instinctively standing in front of Rico to protect him from her sister’s wrath.
“Don’t youLuisame! Youknowwho he is! How could you be so stupid?”
Stung at her sister’s venom, she choked, “I thought you wanted me to find someone?”
Her sister threw her hands in the air. “Anyone buthim!”
“But you don’t even know him!”
“He’s an Esposito. What more do I need to know?”
“He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, that’s what you need to know. I’ve been nothing more than a faded wallflower for years, and Rico’s brought joy and colour to my life, and I love him and he loves me and we’re getting married.”
If Marisa wasn’t so upset, she’d have found the simultaneous dropping of her sister, both her parents and Gennaro’s jaws funny.
“You’re just prejudiced,” she continued, her voice shaking. “You believe that because he’s Lorenzo’s son that he must be like him, which also makes you a hypocrite seeing as it lookslike you’ve gone and fallen in love with the son of the man who drove our family to the brink of bankruptcy.”
“But he’s not just his father’s son,” Luisa pleaded. Her face was now as pale as their mother’s had turned. “He’sdonethings. Awful things.”
