land and head toward the main property, where the manicured grove was. The place where we had our last conversation.
“You were gone,” I whispered, looking at him from the side of my eye.
He nodded but said nothing else.
“Have you come to say goodbye?” I asked.
He stopped walking and so did I. That’s when I noticed two bikes sitting side by side.
“You can ride?”
“Sì,” I breathed out. “Of course.”
“Let’s go.”
My sister’s voice echoed inside my head. Today, Alcina.
“Where are we going?” I smiled.
“Wherever you want to go.”
I nodded, and after we both took our seats, we started peddling toward the exit of the property. The two men Corrado brought with him came with us. The Italian stayed in front, peddling a bike with a side seat for Uncle Tito. Corrado wanted to laugh but didn’t. The chipmunk always lagged in the back. It took us longer to get to the city because he had to keep stopping.
Once we did, he demanded food. We ate in the piazza, and I tried not to laugh when he stuffed his puffy cheeks with pizza. When he caught me staring, his grin came slow, and so did mine.
We decided to visit Museo del Carretto Siciliano, or Museum of the Sicilian Cart. It did not matter where we went. It felt good to spend time with him, to be free for the day.
“Carretto da Gara,” I pointed at an exceptionally beautiful one. It showcased how the cart and horse were dressed up for a special occasion. “Those are used for parties or weddings. The others. Carretto da Lavoro. Those are used for work.”
“My grandparents were married in Sicily,” Corrado said. “They had a cart and horse after they were married.”
I nodded. “They are traditional. Tell me more about your people.”
He did, but it wasn’t much. It was as if he was reciting stats from a page instead of speaking of his famiglia. He spoke nothing of his mamma or his papà. He spoke of his nonno and nonna, but it was brief, and it felt…not as warm as a famiglia should be.
“Tell me something, scorpione,” I said after we left the museum and he bought me gelato. “Your marriage is to be arranged. Why is Uncle Tito doing it?”
“Silvio and I were both groomed to take over the family if something happened to my grandfather. I did a thing that put me in a tough spot before I left. My grandfather and my uncle wanted to teach me boundaries. Or whatever the fuck the lesson is.” He looked around for a second, thinking or checking our surroundings. There were a lot of people out. “The family is mine, under one condition.”
“Ah,” I said, licking my lips. “Marriage.”
“My grandfather gave the responsibility to Tito after I got here.”
“You did not want to choose for yourself?”
“Not particularly.”
I thought about this on the ride back to my sister and her husband’s place. I demanded to live for such a choice, but he gave his away for nothing.
“Did your grandfather take your choice away?” I said as I stepped off the bike. His arms came around my waist and I looked up at him. The lowering sun hit his amber eyes like candlelight. In this light, they were a much lighter shade than his skin.
“That bother you?”
“Sì.” I nodded. “To have such a choice…” I shrugged and sighed at the same time. “It seems like such a sin to waste.”
“Some people might appreciate not having to make such a big decision when love isn’t involved.”
“That is cowardliness,” I said. “Pure and simple.”
“You think love should be involved in all decisions,” he said.
“Not in all.” I shook my head. “But in that decision love should play a part. Even the potential to feel it.” I hesitated but kept talking as we walked the groves. “That feeling of having your breath stolen when you see—” I looked at him and then turned forward “—someone. The madness that happens to your stomach. You cannot eat, but suddenly you taste everything. And—” I inhaled, smelling him in the air “—the smell that lingers, the one that belongs to the one you love. It is unforgettable. It is home.”
“You’re fucking wild,” he said.
I threw my head back and laughed. “Sì! This is what my famiglia tells me! This is why—” I gave him a pointed look “—I am in so much trouble. I have a wild spirit, mamma says, one that some men would love to tame, and eyes that belong to a cat, which