Page 14 of Wicked Rivals

Enzo got to choose the book he wanted if he followed two rules… the story had to take place in Italy, and it couldn’t involve any form of organized crime.

I didn’t allow tales of the mafia in my home. Never.

But that didn’t mean I had to separate my son from his Italian heritage. We could still read fictional tales set in the same country where our family had come from without endangering him or causing him to ask too many questions.

“I wanna read one of the new books,” Enzo said.

While whipping up some chamomile tea and hot chocolate with a dash of cinnamon for Enzo, he sorted through a stack of books on the coffee table.

“You mean the novels we grabbed from the bookstore last week? Yeah, sure. Pick the one you want to read first.”

“This one,” he said, holding up his choice. “I read the back, and it seems cool. Plus, one of the boys in class said it’s good.”

He handed me a beautiful hardbound book.

The Mask of Aribella.

I flipped to the back and skimmed over the summary. A little girl who lived in Venice, the daughter of a lacemaker. She had magical powers. The publisher compared it to Harry Potter and mentioned an award it had won.

“This sounds good, Enzo. Get settled on the couch, and I’ll grab our drinks.”

He raced for our spot by the window.

As he put out the blankets and adjusted the pillows, I added a nice splash of sambuca liqueur to my cup. After the day I’d had, a nightcap sounded so good. Then I topped Enzo’s hot chocolate with sprinkles over the whipped cream and grabbed the cookies I’d saved for him.

I carried everything over on a tray and set it on the table, then settled into my seat.

“Okay, so do you want to read first tonight, or do you want me to start?”

“I'll read the first chapter,” he said.

My son crawled under my arm, nestled down, and started reading the first page aloud as I followed along.

Almost immediately, the vividly described scenes portrayed by the author made me homesick for a land I’d never even seen.

No, not totally true.

It made me long for a person from that land who I would never see again.

Enzo finished his chapter and handed me the book. I started the next one, reading about the little girl's adventure. Her escape from danger hit a little too close to home for me, but Enzo was engrossed in the tale, so I pushed on.

When I finished my chapter, I gave the book back to him.

“Ready for bed, buddy?”

He stared at me with his intense, dark blue eyes. Eyes so much like his father’s.

“Just one more? Please, Mama?”

“One more, then up to brush your teeth and bedtime.”

I took a sip of my tea, then settled back on our couch, this time lying on my side with my arms wrapped around my son.

He’d gone through another growth spurt, I realized. It wouldn't be long until he was too big to cuddle that way. The damn thought broke my heart, but I pushed it aside, so I could stay present in the moment with him.

And while Enzo read, I let my mind go back to my earlier conversation with Mr. Luka. I didn’t want to admit it, but he might have had a point.

Maybe Enzo needed a positive male role model in his life.

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