Trembling I gave him my right hand.
He pulled a knife from his pocket and with the sharpest point of it, pricked my finger and squeezed. Sudden, sharp pain in my finger reminded me of the stab from a rose thorn. A drop of blood welled.
The giant made his way toward us, holding out something that looked like a single playing card that had been removed from the rest of the deck. Phoenix squeezed until six drops of blood fell against the card.
He released my hand, moved over to my brother, and repeated the same words and actions, using the exact same card. Tears pricked my eyes as my body trembled. I brushed my thumb over the spot that had been pricked.
“Tu vivi dal sangue, si muore dal sangue, Benvenuti alla famiglia Valentina e Dante Nicolasi.”
The church stood and repeated the entire phrase word for word, in Italian.
Nicolasi.
It was my father’s last name.
The giant kissed my forehead and then Dante’s.
Dante trembled next to me, as though he fully understood what was taking place. But I was still in the dark. Tears blurred my line of vision as heaviness settled into my chest.
I wasn’t sure if I was scared.
Or if, for the first time in my life, I finally felt the rightness of belonging to something greater than myself.
The priest motioned to us. “Come forward, daughter and son of Luca Nicolasi, and receive your blessing from God.”
Dante grabbed my hand in his and led us the few steps to the priest.
The altar was set with the Eucharist, and yet, we weren’t taking communion.
We were getting initiated.
“Will you receive?” the priest asked us.
“Yes.” I could barely hear my own voice as he placed one hand on my head and one hand on Dante’s and repeated something similar to what he’d said over the giant.
When he released his hands, he addressed the congregation.
“May God bless the Families.”
“May God bless the Families.” They answered back in unison and stood. Then slowly, one by one, they approached the front to kiss each of our hands.
Over one hundred people.
When the last person left and the door slammed shut, I slumped against Dante, exhausted, hungry, extremely confused, and more than a little upset that Sergio hadn’t warned me.
He could have at least said, Hey by the way you should probably wear comfortable shoes for mass.
Without thinking, I kicked off my heels, nearly impaling Phoenix in the thigh with one of them.
“Oops.” Warmth invaded my cheeks. “Sorry.”
“Eh, desperate times.” He gave me a kind smile while Sergio glowered at him. “Now you get territorial?”
Territorial?
“Back off,” Sergio snapped, still not looking at me.
Hurt must have been evident on my face because Phoenix shoved Sergio and pulled out a knife. “You could have at least warned her.”
“I refused to take the chance that she would run,” Sergio said in an even tone as all eyes fell to me.
Somehow, I found my voice, or maybe just the last bit of bravery I possessed. Because I stood and glared in his direction. “See, that’s the thing about friendship. You learn how to trust someone. You give them information, fully aware of what they’ll do with that information based on the relationship you have with them. So he was right to question me, since he’s done nothing to prove that he’s anything but a babysitter out to make sure I get in bed on time.” I swallowed back tears and nodded to Gio. “Please take me home, now, Gio.”
With sad eyes, Gio reached for my arm and led me out of the church, past a furious Sergio.
When the doors were nearly shut behind us, all I could hear was colorful ways to say the word ass.
Love can transpose to form and dignity.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Nor hath Love's mind of any judgment taste.
Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste. –A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Sergio
I PUT UP with their shit the entire drive back to the neighborhood. In five minutes I was going to have to face her, yet again, and feel nothing. It was unfair to ask her to go back to the way things were.
Where I was mean, cold, available, but distant.
We’d made leaps and bounds that morning. Hell we’d made leaps and bounds since the movie theater, but seeing the guys again reminded me of too much pain.
All that progress simply dissipated when Chase and Tex started bickering, because it reminded me of her, damn it. Everything they did reminded me of her. She’d fit in perfectly with them.
She’d been like one of the guys.
And Val wasn’t.
She was soft. Scared. Vulnerable.
She was the exact opposite of what I needed.
If Tex pulled a knife on her she’d pass out.
Andi would have stabbed him in the throat then asked where the popcorn was.