Page 101 of La Dolce Vita

Marietta smiled. "Maybe."

He rolled her over to his chest, and she lay there. She listened to his racing heart. It was hard to tell a man as stubborn as her husband what he should or should not do. But after loving and living with him for the past few years, she learned the ways to push him in the right direction. They were going to find and destroy Isabella. Together.

***

"Bella," he said. Giovanni reached for the guitar case and unzipped it. He put the strap around him and situated the guitar on his lap.

"For you." Giovanni strummed the strings with his thumb and tickled a melody that was soft and sweet. Mirabella wrapped her arms around her legs as she drew her knees up to her chest under her long skirt. She rested her chin on the top of her knees and closed her eyes. He played for her. He didn't sing. And soon she recognized the song. It was one of many played at their wedding.

"Do you remember this song?"

"You know I do," she replied.

"Sing for me," he said.

It wasn't a typical request of his. She sang in the shower, and he would just stare at her and smile. She sung to the babies, and he would stop to listen. She hummed and sung softly to herself as she held on to him and drifted to sleep. Growing up with a religious southern family, singing was natural for her. She had done it from a young age, like her mother. Not once did she explain it to Giovanni, or have him request her to do it for him.

She opened her eyes. She almost declined. She didn't know all of the words to the song, and it felt strange singing in Italian. He nodded with a smile to encourage her wavering confidence. Mirabella had hummed through the first few bars before she began to sing from memory. She didn't know all of the words. The phrases she forgot she hummed her way through. And he didn't mind. He played the guitar to the pitch of her voice perfectly. How did he learn to play so well? Why didn't he play more often? Many thoughts went through her mind. And when the song ended he stopped to clap for her. Mirabella laughed. She got to her feet in the back of the wagon and did a lady’s curtsy for him.

" Brava!" he said.

Giovanni had only thought of the guitar when he went back into the villa to fetch his briefcase before they left for Chianti. He told his men to bring it. After hearing from Umberto how upset she was with him for leaving in the middle of the night, he knew he had to find the perfect way to make it up to her. And once again he felt as if he were the one who got the reward. The woman made him so happy.

"Where did you learn to sing like this?"

"Church," she answered.

"You sang in church?" he frowned.

"Yep. I grew up Pentecostal, not Catholic, remember? And I sang in the choir. My Me-Ma played the piano, and my grandfather preached. Church was a big part of our lives. They say that my mother's voice was far better. I wish I had heard her sing."

"Does Marietta know how to sing?"

She reached over and dragged the basket closer. To the top of the basket was a bottle of their family Chianti. "I dunno. She can dance. She loves to dance for Lorenzo and the kids. But I've never heard her sing. Care for some?"

"I brought the wine for you, not me," he said and strummed the strings of the guitar.

"You gave up on drinking forever?"

"For now," he said.

"Because of me?" she asked.

"Because of us," he replied. He looked up to the sky and saw the moon disappearing again. He felt her staring. He didn't bother to explain his no alcohol rule. She of all people should rejoice. Not until his very last enemy was put into the ground would he take another drink. His Bella uncorked the bottle and poured herself a glass. He peeked up at her as she sipped the magentavino. He strummed the strings and the guitar bellowed the beautiful songAmore Mio.

"Cin-cin!"she said and toasted him once she'd swallowed the entire glass full. Under the light of the lanterns he saw her beauty differently. The wind was playful with her hair. A few times it lifted her long bangs and their eyes met. His Bella possessed an inner strength that didn't lessen her femininity. She looked angelic, graceful in any setting.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"About the moment I found you and Eve again. How lucky I felt when you said you would come back to Italy with me," he said.

"Lucky huh? That's not how I remember it. You were pissed. And if I recall correctly you didn't ask me to come, I was told."

"I was happy." He strummed the guitar. "I had a daughter, and the love of my life had risen from the dead. Not many men can reclaim his heart after it's lost so easily."

"Nothing was easy about our reunion. In fact, we owe Lorenzo for bringing us back together."

Giovanni stopped playing. He looked up. "I never thought of it that way. Lorenzo was the one who found you. I was really fucked up after I had thought you died. If it weren't for him, I'm not sure how I would get through it."

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