The Rocchetti Queen - Bree Porter Page 0,49
my Donna.”
The sudden title made me start but not enough to distract me from asking, “Why, Salvatore?”
“Why what, Sophia?” he repeated like he was stupid.
“Why ask us for this? We would have given you anything and everything if that is what you had wanted.”
Alessandro shot me a look that said, Don’t give him any ideas.
My father-in-law shrugged. “I already have everything. I can get anything. I want for nothing, except this one thing. That is why.”
Aisling’s words fluttered through my brain. I am afraid the only thing I want is unattainable.
Sadness washed over me, but I accepted his answer.
Two down, one to go.
Later that night, I sat on the edge of the bathtub, speaking softly on the phone to Elena. Alessandro and Dante were both asleep in the other room, so I kept my voice quiet. Curled up by my feet was Polpetto. He had followed me into the bathroom but gotten bored quickly and fallen asleep.
“It’s not so bad, being married,” Elena was saying. “He mostly does his own thing. Except for sex.”
I picked at my dressing gown. “How is the sex?”
“I mean, it’s fine. It hurts, but it doesn’t last very long. I’m usually thinking about other things,” she snickered.
I felt my own lips turn up in response. “Yeah? Like what?”
“What I want for breakfast, books I want to read. Normal stuff,” was her reply.
“Even your sex thoughts are boring,” I teased, and she laughed on the other end of the phone. “How’s being away from Chicago?”
Even if Thaddeo was a nightmare, Elena would still prefer New York over Chicago. From the silence on the other end of the phone, it was obvious she was trying to figure out a nice way of telling me she preferred it better there than here.
“Are you happy?” I asked when she didn’t reply.
Elena made a soft noise. “I am, Sophia. Trust me, I’m fine. It’s not as bad or as good as I thought it would be. It’s...mediocre.”
“I’m sure Thaddeo would be overjoyed with the compliment.”
“He doesn’t really pay much attention to me,” she said, sounding happy about it. “Oh! Sophia, you should see the library.”
“I have only ever stepped into a library once, Elena. When I was like fourteen and—”
“Adam Myles was chasing you with that moldy bread!” Elena laughed as she cut me off, remembering the story just as well as I.
“I can’t believe you’re laughing,” I said, smiling. “That little turd hunted me through the school.”
She didn’t stop laughing, instead it grew more intense as she remembered the story.
I shook my head but couldn’t stop my happiness at hearing her laugh. I had been so worried about her in New York, all alone. But Elena was fine—in fact, she sounded better than me.
When she calmed down, she asked, “How is Beatrice?”
“Good. She’s due in a month, so she hasn’t been leaving the house a lot,” I said. “I’m betting it’s a girl. What do you think?”
“I’ll go boy, for poor Pietro. Imagine living with two Beatrices? He will starve.”
I laughed. “Don’t be so mean. Baking is difficult.”
“Is it though? I’m sad I missed the baby shower. We used to talk about them in home room, do you remember?”
I did. When we were younger and still thought everything adults told us was the law. My life had been set out in front of me: graduate, get married, have a baby, have another baby, die. I was still following that plan, but with my own minor adjustments.
I wondered what teenage Sophia would think of me. She would be confused about where her sister was, was the first thought that hit me, and it was the truth. Teenage Sophia didn’t do anything without her big sister.
I closed my eyes.
“You still there, Sophia?” Elena asked.
“I’m here. Just lost in memories.”
“Nostalgia can be dangerous like that,” she said reasonably. When she took on that matter-of-fact tone, anything could come out of her mouth and sound believable. “How are you doing now, with motherhood and everything else?”
“It’s getting a little easier now Dante’s getting a bit older. He doesn’t need to feed as much and has a better sleep schedule, but it’s still...it’s still hard.”
Elena made a sympathetic noise. “Hopefully, Thaddeo won’t want kids for a few more years.”
“Oh, they’re not so bad,” I said. “He’s actually kind of cute.”
“That’s his Padovino blood,” she said. “Wait until he starts to grow into his Rocchetti-ness.”
“Rocchetti-ness? Don’t tell me you’re making up words now, Elena, I’ll begin to assume you’re being drugged.”
She huffed. Elena never appreciated