The Knotty Bride Read Free Page B

who’s getting to him,” Rupa had explained as we sat around the rim of the grotto pool, dangling our feet in 102 degrees water. “She’s always been unhappy that we got married. Always complaining that her son did not marry a Catholic woman in a Catholic church.”
    “Honestly, what is her problem? ”
    “I don’t know,” Rupa had replied. “Dario always defends her. He says she had a rough childhood.”
    “Who didn’t have a rough childhood, am I right? Like ninety percent of the planet had a bad childhood. Doesn’t give anybody the right to be rude to their daughter-in-law,” I lectured like the wise person I am after three Dixie cups of limoncello.
    “More wine?” Hornirino asks, snapping me back to the present. I stare at him agog. With his mass of curly hair, broad shoulders and “come hither” looks, the man is perfection. Strangely, when he reaches over to pour me a drink, I hear an odd noise.
    “Shh, Rupa, now you’re the one making some kind of animalistic sound,” I whisper a second later.
    “I am?” she asks before returning to growling.
    I look at Francesca to see if she notices we’re ogling her cousin. Nope, she’s officially checked out. She’s not even picking at her asparagus anymore. Good, because at this point I’m beginning to feel slightly dirty.
    Despite her naughty innuendos and spicy double-entendres, Stefano, which was poor Hornirino’s real name, was not biting. Five delicious courses later, Francesca and I assist Rupa --who still isn’t wearing her wedding ring --in walking across the lawn to our private casita. Quite tipsy, Rupa goes on and on about how we should all go out dancing.
    “Why not, we’re not dead. We should live a little,” she continues.
    “Oh yes, let’s,” I say in response to her third hearty rendition of “Does anybody want to par-tee?” It’s a bit like the old days, back before I was married, back before I had children. I think I know exactly what to wear. In my bedroom at casita no. 5, I dump out my overstuffed duffle bag. Even though I knew I was only leaving Arona for one night, I packed as if I was going on a safari. I brought half my closet. What can I say? I am a mother and a mother learns to be prepared for all circumstances; surely there must be something in this bag for me to wear out on the town.
    “Let's go, ladies,” I return to the living room dressed in dark slacks and a pale pink top that the clerk at Upim swore was a perfect complement to my skin tone.
    “I absolutely cannot remember the last time I went dancing. Come to think of it, I did shake my groove thing at my children’s birthday party when they turned four. I guess what I mean to say is I can’t remember the last time I went dancing unaccompanied by small children. I think it was before Enrico and I got married. And hey, even though I’m a mother, I am still entitled to an occasional night out, right?”
    “Shh,” Francesca whispers in my direction before returning to the task of covering up Rupa with a blanket.
    “She just sat down and fell asleep,” Francesca murmurs with a shake of her head. “Maybe we should leave her where she is. The couch looks comfy. What do you think?”
    I think my evening of fun just went down the toilet, that’s what I think. And who am I kidding anyway, I can’t stay up late. On nights when I’m not working, I’m usually in bed by nine.
     

Chapter 3

    A ccording to Francesca, I fell asleep on my feet. Such a thing could only happen to a single mother of two. Working three to midnight and then waking up early to get the boys ready for school is wearing me down. At least Francesca had the good sense to help me to my bed. She must have pulled back the sheets so I could crawl underneath.
    Now, after a good night sleep, a shower and a cappuccino, I feel ebullient as the three of us pile into the car, heading out to meet Beatta Cavale.
    “Lily, be a dear and take the keys, will you?” Rupa asks, telling me she doesn’t feel