I’m sure there’s an explanation that makes perfect, innocent sense.
I’m just about to jump onto the treadmill when I sense somebody watching me. I spin, ready to give Angelo a big dose of sass. That’s the thing with him. When we’re apart, I can think clearly, reason logically, function like a normal human adult. When we’re in the same room together, though, there’s this electric tension that makes all of that way too difficult.
But when I turn, it’s not Angelo. It’s Richie, the butler.
“Ma’am,” he says.
I curtsy, pinching the air where my dress would be. “Richard, how gracious of you to come and visit with me this fine morning.” I do my best English accent, which, honestly, is insultingly horrendous. I wouldn’t be surprised if he decided to throw a crumpet at my head, or whatever it is that British people do when they’re angry.
Richie smiles, shaking his head. “I do believe you are both from London and Liverpool, by way of Australia,” he comments wryly. “Mr. De Maggio has requested your presence.”
“Oh, he has, has he?” I walk over to the treadmill and hop on. “It’s sort of rude, you know, being summoned like a pet.”
“Well …” Richie demurs noncommittally.
I guess I’m in a combative mood. The way he thinks he can pick me up and put me down anytime he wants both thrills and annoys me.
“Mr. De Maggio is currently at a soup kitchen, ma’am. That is where he would like you to join him. He is—excuse me if I am being overly forward—a good man.”
“Wait a sec. Did you say a soup kitchen?”
“Yes,” Richie says.
“Okay, I’ll bite: what’s he doing there?”
“I couldn’t possibly say. If I may make a suggestion, why don’t you go and see?” Richie asks. “There is a car waiting for you.”
“I need to shower and change,” I say. “How long will it wait?”
Richie almost laughs, but has the good manners not to make me feel too stupid just yet. “As long as it takes, ma’am, of course.”
I nod, tell Richie thank you, and then head to my room to get ready. I wonder what’s so funny about my question, but then it hits me. In this world, Richie is so used to cars waiting around for Angelo until he’s ready that the idea I’d think it would leave without me is hilarious.
It’s Angelo De Maggio’s world; we’re all just living in it.
When the car pulls up outside the church, with a sign posted out front—“Feed the Homeless”—I’m almost certain I’m dreaming. This is the sort of corny ploy one of Zora’s blind date setups would pull.
But Angelo doesn’t have to play those games anymore, surely? I walk into the church and look around, wondering what the punchline is, but there’s no punchline. I spot Angelo standing in the far corner, leaning against the wall as he talks to two homeless men. All three of them are laughing. Angelo sees me watching, and then gestures at me to come over. We meet in the middle of the room, embracing like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And it is. It feels like we couldn’t do anything else.
“Think you’re a bit overdressed?” I tease, since he’s wearing a steel-grey suit, even here.
“Sempre,” someone says, stepping up behind Angelo. He’s a thin man with a wispy black mustache. He offers me his hand. “Levi Mancini. It is an absolute pleasure to meet you. My condolences, too.”
“Condolences?” I ask in confusion, shaking his hand.
“Being married to this man can’t be an easy burden to bear.”
I laugh. “That’s an understatement, but I appreciate your concern.”
Angelo grins tightly, and then says something quick in Italian, which I don’t catch. Levi grins. Seeing my quizzical look, he tells me. “My friend here is concerned about the fuss my mother is going to make over you,” he says. “She can be a bit—ah, let’s say overbearing.”
“Ah, speak of the devil,” Angelo says.
“I am sure you mean the angel!” the elderly lady cries as she strides towards us with so much enthusiasm she almost vibrates. “Ah, let me look at you! You must be Dani, yes? Bellissima! You are a picture, my dear! But you must talk sense to this one.” She wags her finger at Angelo, leaning on her silver-pommeled cane with her free hand. “Having a skulking, secret wedding without telling his family—tch! You will have to renew your vows so we can celebrate you properly.”