Her arms were around him in a death grip, but he didn’t care. He relished her touch—the press of her full, luscious breasts against his back and the way her thighs squeezed his hips, remembering how they’d wrapped around his waist in ecstasy at thirty-five thousand feet. He hadn’t come back down from those clouds ever since.
They went speeding down the steep hillside in winding curves and turns. The breeze was in his face. He absorbed the dizzying blur of other vehicles, trees, and houses, and finally, the dazzling blue line of the sea. Her dress fluttered back from her exposed nut-brown thighs. Merely being with her was pure freedom.
All at once, too soon, they reached the gate near their private portion of the boardwalk, where he slowed to a stop and parked the Vespa. She seemed to let go of his waist reluctantly and got off the scooter as gracefully as she could. The sun was in his eyes, so he squinted at her.
“Like the ride?” he asked. When she refused to answer, he cajoled, “Come on, you know that was dope.”
“Dope? Can’t take you Bronx guys anywhere.” She laughed. “Yeah, yeah. It was dope.”
When she turned to survey the dark-brown sand and stones of the beach, he did the same. It was the view he’d seen every year since he could remember. Fingers of rock stretched out into the water, as though some ancient giant had fallen here, reaching out across the bay for help.
Offshore, a swim away, rose two tall cliffs of rock connected by a thin bridge without rails, known as La Gaiola. Between this quieter stretch of boardwalk and that glittering water, there was a small crowd of women and children amid blue-and-white striped lounge chairs and another set of more upright chairs under an open tent. The women of the D’Alessio family awaited.
Nonni was sitting under the tent with Little Angelo. Lina, whom Dani had already “met” that morning, was at the shoreline with Isa and the other kids. The sister-wives were huddled on the loungers, talking excitedly and glancing at them. They were all cool, but he had a moment of doubt that they’d be as welcoming of Dani, considering they had either loved or at least gotten along with Tracy. All he wanted was a fair shake for Dani, who deserved some respect whether she would be there for two weeks or…
He could see the same concerns about their openness playing across Dani’s features.
“Ready?” Nico tried to reassure her with a smile as she straightened her dress, smoothing it down her legs repeatedly.
“No. But here we are.”
Nico got off the scooter and interlaced his fingers with hers. Within five minutes, they were at the cabana. The wives chatting on the lounge chairs quieted with expectation, but Nico took her straight to Nonni first.
“Nonni, I’d like to introduce you to my girlfriend, Daniela. Daniela, this is my nonni, Rosaria. But everybody calls her Nonni, si?”
All this was in Italian, despite Nonni having lived in New York from fifteen until her fifties. Since moving back to Italy, she hadn’t needed to speak English that often, and she’d lost some of her fluency.
Nonni smiled, nodding and shaking Dani’s hand with a slight press of her fingers. “Nice to meet you.”
Nico had told her Nonni was shy. Now he tried not to wonder if her hesitation to say more was due to that natural shyness alone or if she’d already decided not to entertain him with a girlfriend who wasn’t her draft pick.
“I’m really happy to meet you,” Dani said carefully, whipping out the phrase she’d practiced most in Italian. “Thank you for having me.”
Nonni only smiled and nodded again, averting her eyes to the dark-haired, golden-brown child who wrapped his arms around her legs. This was Little Angelo, Angelo and Tori’s three-year-old. Little Angelo let his love for his uncle Nico be known loud and clear by letting go of his great-grandmother’s leg and holding up his arms to Nico for a pickup. Like the night before, he laughed when Nico growled and tickled his neck, kissing his round cheek.
“If you don’t remember this guy from busting into my room this morning, this is Little Angelo,” Nico said, holding him up with pride.
“Hi, Angelo,” Dani said with a wave, clearly respecting the fact that she was a stranger to him. “How areyou?”
“How areyou?” Little A repeated, glancing at her once, then away.
“Adorable,” Dani said. He could see she meant it by the way her eyes shone, the way they did when she’d played with her own niece back home. She’d be a great mom someday, kind and loving.
For someone else’s kid, Nico had to remind himself.
“And I’m going to kidnap that one when no one’s looking.” She gestured toward Angelo’s black-haired five-month-old, who was sleeping in a bassinet near Nonni’s chair, shielded from the sun. Nonni smiled again, looking at the baby with pure adoration.
“Okay, Nonni. I’m going to take Dani to meet Ma, and then I’m going to find Nonno. Are you going to make cannoli for me tonight?” he teased her in Italian.
“If you behave, maybe I will,” Nonni scolded him with a shaking finger.
“Nonni makes the best cannoli anywhere. I swear, Dani,” he said in English, “you will not be able to stop at one. Okay, we’re going.Ciao,Nonni.” Nico kissed her on both cheeks while she patted his and Little Angelo’s faces.
Angelo’s arms were locked rather firmly around Nico’s neck, so he carried him toward Lina, indicating Dani should follow while Nonni sat back in her chair. The sister-wives whispered again, watching as he and Dani reached Carolina.
“Ma, this is Daniela. You sort of already met,” Nico joked.
Lina must not have found anything funny, gauging from the set of her mouth. She had that full bottom lip that he and his brothers had inherited, but now, it looked awfully thin.
