When she started singing along with the last verse—the part of the movie where that little elephant was being led away by the little rat character—I bit the inside of my cheek.
Scarlett leaned her head next to the cushion of the couch where my head had been. “Angel, he misses his mother.”
I nodded. “I miss mine, too.”
“Is she in Italy, like mine?”
I laid my head back to look into her eyes. “No. She passed away.”
With an unusual maturity, her eyes searched mine. “Explain.”
“Do you remember the caterpillar?” Horror crossed her face, causing me to quietly chuckle to not wake Sal. “No. She wasn’t squished. She got sick.”
Her eyes closed. I knew she was trying to remember something from her past. Then they opened and she nodded. “What made her sick?”
I swallowed. A broken heart— “An illness that sometimes takes lives.” I touched her chest. “Life. What makes your heart beat.”
After everything she had been through, she still managed sympathy for me. “I wish her heart still beat for you, Angel.”
After a moment that hurt so bad it was paralyzing, I whispered, “Me too.”
Sudden worry crossed her angelic face. “Will your heart stop beating for me?”
All I had been trying to do was just that. Not let my heart beat for Scarlett.
My throat closed, momentarily strangling me. After another heavy swallow, I finally admitted, “I don’t want it to.”
Scarlett sighed as if that was all she needed to hear. “My heart doesn’t want to stop beating for you, either, Angel.”
As she started watching the TV again, my eyes drifted to Sal, who was staring at me.
After that night, I think my best friend purposely meddled. It felt like I was constantly being shown little Scarlett miracles that were so Heavenly, I would have to stop and enjoy them. Like the faint singing luring me down a hallway toward Sal’s bedroom. Following the sweet sound, I started to recognize the song. “Baby of Mine.
Over the humming, Sal’s voice bounced off his bathroom walls, “Yes, Italian woman. Sing that siren song. Call to your man—”
Cough. Cough.
Sal’s matches—that he was using to light candles around a garden tub—flew into the air. “Oh, hey, Angelo. I, uh, didn’t expect you so soon.”
Scarlett giggled as the matches plopped into the bathwater she was soaking in.
Knowing she was naked under the abundance of bubbles, I snarled, “Sal, what are you doing?”
Appearing guilty as sin, he opened his mouth but stopped when seeing Scarlett lift a long leg of perfection from the water, bubbles dripping. Scarlett no longer looked nor sounded like the naïve version we had known when she watched the washing machine. Now, she was almost seductive as she sighed, “He is helping me enjoy your gift.” She smiled at me in a way she had never done before. It was slightly tempting. “Thank you for my bubbles and candles. Sal told me that you had Mae bring them for me.”
My eyes raced to his. He was giving me full credit.
Gesturing to Scarlett, he growled in delight, “Isn’t she ravishing?”
“Sal,” Scarlett rubbed her leg with long swipes as if she were enjoying being sensual, “if you are not praying, you said you will speak English.”
His eyebrows danced to me, something I hadn’t seen in some time. “Oh, I am praying, my Dove.”
Ignoring his innuendo, I inquired, “Dove?”
“Yes,” he faced Scarlett while answering, “our injured bird is morphing into a beautiful dove.”
Sal had been so pleased with her gaining weight and losing the dark circles under her eyes, and I, focused on keeping her safe and not allowing my growing feelings a foothold, hadn’t even noticed her changes. She had always been striking to me.
Gasp! “Beautiful?” Her eyes raced to mine. “Do you think I am beautiful, Angel?”
Long black hair floated in the water as if Scarlett was a living Goddess.
Trying to act unaffected by the most incredible being to walk the Earth, ever, my head bobbled as I crossed my arms, attempting to lean against the door jamb. When I missed, I stumbled into the bathroom.
Of course, that had Sal informing her, “That was a yes, Dove.” He held his arms wide. “You look so divine I want to jump in that bath with you—”
Snarl.
“But I won’t.” He faced me. “Mr. Angelo Bianchi, would you do the honors of accompanying Miss Scarlett Giordano? I just heard my oven timer go off.”
What is he talking about? “I didn’t hear any—”
“Perfecto!”
More eyebrow dancing commenced as Sal slid past me at the door.
I sneered at him. “I’m going to kill you with your own gun.”
“Then I shall curse you to see my face every time you jack-off.”
I recoiled in horror. “You wouldn’t.” His mamma was with the gift. I wasn’t daring enough to doubt the possibility of him being the same.
And he knew it. “Try me and see.” A full-blown smirk was the last thing I saw before he dimmed the lights and then shut the door in my face.
I went for the door to leave until I heard, “Neither of you were praying, were you?”
Maybe I should chance killing him. “Uh… no, we weren’t.” I faced her. “Wouldn’t you rather be alone to enjoy your bath?”
She got quiet in thought. “Being alone scares me.”
An ache erupted in my chest.
“I keep trying, but,” she tapped her chest, “being alone makes my heart go so fast.” Her eyes met mine. “I don’t want it to stop beating.”
Not only were her eyes entrancing, but her words were as well. Especially one. Scarlett had said ‘don’t’.
Every day, she was growing.
The thought of her heart ceasing had my legs weakening and me sitting on the lidded toilet.
She said, “Sal says it will all get easier over time.”
“You’ve talked to him about your loneliness?”
“He is willing to talk to me about anything.”
I didn’t even know I was snarling again until Scarlett’s face scrunched as she tried to lift her upper lip. “Why do you always do that?”
“No good reason,” I told her. After exhaling, I admitted, “I’m glad he is there for you.” Down, jealous man. Down. “Is there, uh, anything you would like to talk to me about?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, that was quick.”
“It has been on my mind a lot.”
I suddenly wanted out of the bathroom again. What was she going to say?
“Angelo… if my heart were to stop beating, and I ‘passed’, where would I pass to?”
Oh, sure, Sal gets loneliness and mashed potatoes, and I get fucking religion? “Uh. Well, that would depend on who is right.”
“Explain.”
Yes, I am definitely taking my chances and shooting Sal.
I only had to sum up and simplify a subject that has caused wars throughout all of history. No problem. Fuck! “Hmm, let’s see. Where to begin?”
“The beginning.”