Страница 11 из 147
FOR FOUR YEARS, the boy had cooked with his mother. In some ways, because he wrote every recipe down-not to mention each variation of the recipes he would make, occasionally, without her-he was surpassing her, even as he learned. As it happened, on that life-changing night, Dominic was making di
To A
As for Rosie, it didn’t matter that the sixteen-year-old’s proposal, which was both sweet and not-so-i
Given the predilections of the male members of both the Saetta and Calogero families, this “duress” took the form of multiple threats of castration ending with death by drowning. Whether it was Naples or Palermo the lout sailed back to was not made clear, but no marriage proposal was ever forthcoming. Dominic’s spontaneous and heartfelt offer was the first time anyone had proposed to Rosie; overcome, she burst into tears at the kitchen table before Dominic could poach the shrimp in his marinara sauce. Sobbing, the distraught young woman went to bed without her di
In the night, A
But Dominic lay wondering, What have I done? Even an imaginary marriage to Rosie gave the boy a nearly constant erection. (Well, he was sixteen years old-no wonder!) When he heard that Rosie had stopped crying, young Dom held his breath. “Did Dominic hear me-did I wake him up, do you think?” the boy heard the girl ask his mother.
“Well, he sleeps like the dead,” Nunzi said, “but you did make quite a ruckus-understandably, of course.”
“He must have heard me!” the girl cried. “I have to talk to him!” she said. Dominic could hear her step out of the tub. There was the vigorous rubbing of a towel, and the sound of her bare feet on the bathroom floor.
“I can explain to Dom in the morning,” his mother was saying, but his not-really-a-cousin’s bare feet were already padding down the hall to the spare room.
“No! I have something to tell him!” Rosie called. Dominic could hear a drawer open; a coat hanger fell in her closet. Then the girl was in his room-she just opened his door, without knocking, and lay down on the bed beside him. He could feel her wet hair touch his face.
“I heard you,” he told her.
“I’m going to be fine,” Rosie began. “I’ll have a baby, some other day.”
“Does it hurt?” he asked her. He kept his face turned away from her on the pillow, because he had brushed his teeth too long ago-he was afraid his breath was bad.
“I didn’t think I wanted the baby until I lost it,” Rosie was saying. He couldn’t think of what to say, but she went on. “What you said to me, Dominic, was the nicest thing anyone ever said to me-I’ll never forget it.”
“I would marry you, you know-I wasn’t just saying it,” the boy said.
She hugged him and kissed his ear. She was on top of the covers, and he was under them, but he could still feel her body pressing against his back. “I’ll never have a nicer offer-I know it,” his not-really-a-cousin said.
“Maybe we could get married when I’m a little older,” Dominic suggested.
“Maybe we will!” the girl cried, hugging him again.
Did she mean it, the sixteen-year-old wondered, or was she just being nice?
From the bathroom, where A
As she went on compulsively cleaning the bathtub, A
A
“My goodness, Rosie, you must forgive me,” A
Rosie felt the boy gasp against her chest the second she was aware of her own gasp. It was as if they had rehearsed the answer, so perfectly in unison was their response. “No!” A
Definitely not a blessing, Nunzi was thinking, when she heard Rosie say, “I want to stay here, with you and Dominic. I want to teach at the school. I don’t ever want to go back to Boston!” (I can’t blame her for that, A
“I want Rosie to stay!” Nunzi heard her son call out.
Well, of course you do! A
ROSIE CALOGERO KEPT her job and did it well. The young cook also kept his job and did it well-well enough that the breakfast place started serving lunch, too. In a short time, Dominic Baciagalupo became a much better cook than his mom. And whatever the young cook made for lunch, he brought the best of it home for di