have. The things I would’ve missed.”
We turned together to look at the table full of people on our property. Family and friends gathered around our home to celebrate. Nothing in particular. Just life.
Laughter rose and echoed. Kids ran from one spot to another. A few of the men were drunk and started to sing. The sun was starting to set. Soon hundreds of lights would brighten our property in Catania.
It was the perfect distance to all of our family and friends. We were secluded, tucked away, our own little slice of the world where no one could find us—unless we allowed them to.
I sighed, taking my husband’s hands in mine, intertwining our fingers.
Every word I had spoken to him in his grandfather’s office was true. I was prepared to spend the rest of my life faithful to him, to our marriage. Not even bars could separate his life from mine. I had a code, too, and I was willing to sacrifice my entire life to see it through.
Though I had known Rocco was one deciding factor in my husband’s decision, there was more to it.
“Didn’t I choose you, too?” Corrado had said to me one night.
I hadn’t known what he meant until the next day. We got on a plane to Sicily and never looked back.
The four of us did not exist any longer, not the same way we did before. The plane that was supposed to bring us back to New York crashed over the ocean. We went down with a set of names and came up with a new set of identities.
A new life that came with its own sets of unique wins and struggles.
I rested my head against his chest, looking up at him. “You look tired, il mio amore.”
He only nodded.
Even though Alessandro Palermo lived for each new day in his groves, he wrestled different demons every night.
Instead of staying awake, he fought them off in his sleep. Tossing and turning. Saying things I could not understand. Waking up ringing wet with sweat, like he had been to war in his dreams.
His conscience had caught up to him, and the life he left behind never truly left him. It pulled at him like strings to a puppet, demanding that he claim his part again as the puppet master. And his conscience pulled him in a different direction—toward redemption.
“The moon will be full tonight.” I smiled up at him. “The grove will be ours.”
“I look forward to the madness,” he said, leaning down to kiss me. “When the witch comes out in you.”
I laughed in his arms and then sighed. “We will stay out until morning,” I said. “Until we have to leave. Then we will eat breakfast out on the terrace.”
“A new day,” he said. “The weather will be cooler.”
“Is this the ending you imagined?” I pulled his arms even closer, wishing we could walk around as one instead of two. Maybe Uncle Tito was right. We did walk around as one—his body and my heart. Each day I fell harder and deeper in love with him.
A thousand lifetimes wouldn’t be enough.
He took a minute to answer. “No,” he said.
“Papà! Mamma!”
We turned to look at our three children running toward us. Alessandro smiled, and his Ele returned it.
It took her a little time, but her smile was mostly reserved for her papà. She lived up to her name, light, when she smiled that way for him.
They circled us, showing us the blood orange they had found, how big it was. Alessandro wrapped his arm around Ele. I pulled Alessandra closer. Orlando stuck himself in between, trying to wrap his arms around all of us. He was grunting, trying to make his arms grow.
I laughed, the sound of it echoing around the groves, as a breeze rustled the trees.
My husband looked at me and grinned. “Now it is.”
Extended Epilogue
“You can’t get away from me!” Anna said, jumping in front of us with a camera. “On the count of three!”
“One!” Ele shouted.
“Two!” Alessandra held up two fingers.
“Tre!” Orlando said, reaching for the bucket, which I refused to let go of.
We all looked at the camera and smiled.
“Wait!” Mari said, coming to stand next to her brother, her entire family surrounding her. “Us, too!”
“Alla famiglia!” Anna said, bringing the camera up to her eye once more.
“Alla famiglia!” we shouted before she took the picture.
“Now, let’s eat!” Donatello “Lima Bean” said, passing us by. “I’m starving.”
The End
Yeah, I claimed the name.
Who gives a fuck?
After all, a name is just letters