Over his shoulder, he grimaced. “What for? Mamma has already said it will be so.”
Again, the logic was baffling. Refocusing, I asked, “Why can’t my father be here?”
“He has vowed to find Mr. Giordano’s daughter.”
“Find?”
Sal suddenly stopped and made the sign of the cross after closing his eyes, then revealed, “Yes, the Devil stole her.”
It would be some years before I understood the true meaning of that statement.
Sal walked us into a bedroom and practically cheered, “Isn’t it great?”
My suitcase was already laying on a twin bed on the right side of the little room, a little nightstand separating the two beds. A window was above the nightstand. In the remaining space, next to where I was standing, there was one dresser.
Sal laid a hand on it. “We will share the drawers,” he pointed, “and our closet.”
As thankful as I was for his kindness, I still fought tears, just wanting to go home. I didn’t want to belong to a star. I didn’t want to belong to a team. And I didn’t want to live with strangers. I just wanted my mom.
A large hand landed on my shoulder, startling me because I hadn’t realized my thoughts had been so distracting.
The man standing behind me in the doorway apologized, swiftly removing his hand. “I am sorry to have spooked you. I just wished to welcome you to our home.”
Understanding it was the man of the house who was speaking to me, I quickly faced him and lifted my chin. “Thank you for opening your home to me.”
The dark-suited man was the size his son would someday reach—tall, with broad shoulders. He smiled. “I see your beautiful mother raised you well.”
So shocked someone dared to speak of her, but grateful, my eyes bulged. “You knew her?”
Now, it was him being distracted by thoughts. “Oh yes, very well. She will be greatly missed.”
My shoulders sagged. Someone had an inkling of what I was missing terribly. Again, I fought tears I didn’t want to shed in front of two males, so I quickly looked to the old wooden floor.
A strong finger tapped the bottom of my chin. “I understand your grief, and I understand it will last beyond the mourning period.” His voice carried such honesty. I instantly believed him.
A faint whisper was all I could manage without breaking down. “Thank you.”
After a long moment of silence, Sal happily told his father, “I was going to surprise Angelo with the river!”
Mr. Rossi suddenly smiled and leaned back, raising his arms wide. “That magical river water has cleansed many souls of sadness,” he told me with a wink. “Your father and I used to visit there regularly when we were young.”
Sal, watching and waiting for an answer from me, wiggled his eyebrows again, as if trying to tempt me. He looked ridiculous, causing me to smile.
Pleased, Sal leaned back, arms wide like his father. “Perfecto!”
Running through the woods, trying to keep up with Sal, I wondered what the hurry was until he hid behind a tree. Telling me to keep quiet as he peeked around the trunk, I caught up and hid behind him. Out of breath, I tried to sneakily see what he was spying on.
Young teenage girls were in the river, laughing and splashing each other. As beautiful as that was, it was the fact that they were naked that had my jaw falling, landing on Sal’s shoulder.
Smiling ear to ear—and not taking his eyes from a young boy’s dream come true—he whispered, “Am I your best friend now?” Speechless, having never seen anything so incredible, I could only nod, temporarily forgetting about being sad to have left my uncle’s house.
Maybe this won’t be so bad, after all.
A year had flown by before I knew it. Most of my time was spent outside with Sal, doing our chores and jobs on the land, but there was also plenty of hours of homeschooling by Mrs. Rossi. I still had not learned what business deals were taking place with the Giordanos, but that was truly a blessing. I was able to enjoy the innocent time with my best friend and learn more about the mystifying female gender.
Early one evening, we spied on the girls who had grown and become even more beautiful. Getting a little too confident in our stealth abilities, now that we were thirteen and thought we knew everything, we were spotted. The dark-haired beauty that I admired and spied on from a distance, who I was sure belonged to the cool refreshing water caressing her flawless full breasts, called out, “Sal Rossi! Is that you again?”
He peered over his shoulder at me. “Did I happen to mention I was caught before you came to live with us? And was warned not to return?”
“No.” I smacked him on the back of the head.
Fearing we would get into serious trouble, I went to run, but Sal told me, “There is always an opportunity for a happy ending.” He stepped out from our bush, which was a terrible hiding spot. “Yes, it is I, beauties of the water. Did you miss me?”
The girls all laughed, obviously finding Sal as ridiculous as I did. The sad part? They covered their titties. I exhaled my disappointment as I stood, sure that was my last chance to ever witness such a miracle.
Standing in the water—hands cupping her breasts—the dark-haired river mermaid eyed me. “Who is your friend, Rossi?”
Sal made an “o” shape with his lips as if he noticed something I hadn’t. He slapped me on my back, almost shoving me forward. “Ladies, may I introduce you to the up-and-coming Team Member of the Giordanos.” He did a slight and embarrassing bow. “Angelo Bianchi.”
Yes, over the past year, Sal and I were being taught certain skills by Mr. Rossi, but I was hardly climbing the ladder at a rapid pace, knocking all competition out of my way. Yet, who was I to disrespect such a fine introduction? So, I set my shoulders back and stuck out my poor excuse for a chest. “Ladies.”
The rest of the girls giggled, but not the dark-haired one. She sized me up. She was slightly older than me and gorgeous. “Angelo? Like the Angel of the Night?”
I lifted a brow. “Me?” I was already learning how to wield a gun. I assumed that made me far from angelic. “No.”
“No?” With no inhibition, she walked out of the water. Our eyes shamelessly followed her every move. “My mother used to put me to sleep with the tale of the Angel of the Night.” Her breasts were once again exposed as she picked up a towel and wrapped it around her body, placing it loosely under her arms. “An old legend of the guardian and how he would swoop down from the sky and save the maiden in need.”
I opened my mouth to explain how wrong she was but couldn’t talk when a bony elbow poked my ribs and Sal spewed, “Why, yes, he is!” He eyed me as if I was too humble. “Angelo, do not be shy.”
Rubbing my side, I silently questioned his words.
Sal just kept smiling, telling the young woman, “And his payment for such bravery is only a kiss.”
My jaw dislocated.
Observing my reaction, the dark-haired beauty questioned, “You do not wish to kiss me, Angelo?” When I was still too stunned to answer, she stepped right in front of me, about to teach me a valuable lesson. She turned to face Sal. She was so close to me, her damp towel brushed my front while asking, “Rossi, would you like a kiss?”