My stomach tightened in apprehension as I faced the mirror over the sink. I’d put on a hint of mascara and now it was smeared all around my eyes. I looked like a raccoon.
Diego was angry, but I didn’t care. “Dad won’t agree, just so you know.”
“What’s the big deal?”
He tossed me a glare as he pulled his rusty Ford Ranger up in front of our house. The scent of the cigarillos Grandpa had smoked still clung to the leather and ceiling, which was why Nonna refused to use the car—too much grief.
“Really?” he muttered. “The big deal is that you agreed that Savio would pick you up and train with you.”
“So what? He’s your friend.”
“Yeah, he is. I know him.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
I scowled. Before Diego had turned the ignition off, I jumped out of the car, grabbing the house keys, and tore toward the front door then locked it. I needed to talk to Dad first if I wanted any chance of getting his approval. Diego would only ruin everything. I ran past Mom who was vacuuming the living room, and into the kitchen from where the scent of Nonna’s famous rabbit stew wafted over to me. I stumbled inside.
Dad sat at the table, bent over bills, judging by the deep frown on his forehead. Nonna stirred the stew with a wooden spoon and sang one of the old Italian love songs that made Mom teary-eyed.
I hurried toward Dad, earning a disapproving cluck from Nonna because I usually greeted her first, but this couldn’t wait.
Dad looked up and I gave him my sweetest smile then wrapped my arms around his neck from the side. The doorbell rang.
He leaned back with a deep laugh. “I know that smile, angelo mio.”
“Dad,” I said softly. “You know how much fight training means to me. And Savio finally agreed to help me. He’s going to practice with me after church tomorrow. Please, let me go.”
The bell rang again, then the vacuum was turned off.
“I need Diego in the Capri tomorrow…”
“I know, but Savio was kind enough to agree to pick me up at church and bring me back home after training.”
Dad shook his head. I hugged him tighter and kissed his cheek. “Please, Dad. You know Savio. I’ll do anything. Pleeeaaassseee.”
Diego’s voice rang out.
I turned to Nonna, which was a sign of how desperate I was. “Nonna, please.”
She pursed her lips. “Alone with a boy.” She clucked her tongue.
“I’ll even go back to the church choir like you want me to.”
Nonna tilted her head then gave a small satisfied nod before she turned back to the stew.
The door swung open and Diego stepped in, seething. “Don’t say yes, Dad.”
Dad lifted a finger. “Not in that tone.”
I poked my tongue out at my brother.
Diego gritted his teeth. “You can’t allow her to be alone with Savio.”
“Diego always spends time with Savio. You know how responsible Diego is. He wouldn’t be friends with Savio, if he wasn’t trustworthy.”
Diego gave me a look that promised retaliation, but he could hardly argue with my reasoning or he’d have to say exactly why Savio was a bad influence and that would mean, he wasn’t allowed to spend time with his best friend either.
“He’s your friend,” Dad said to Diego before he grabbed my chin. “And you, angelo mio, won’t behave in a way that would disappoint your mom or me, right?”
“I just want to become a good fighter.” That, and I wanted Savio to notice me only once.
Diego shook his head and walked over to Nonna to kiss her cheek. “What do you say, Nonna?”
“Gemma wants to return to the church choir.”
I grinned at him and he narrowed his eyes at me. We both knew that Nonna was desperate for me to sing again. Her old-lady friends always asked when the angel-voice would return to the choir.
“Why are you so against Gemma spending time with that Falcone boy?” Nonna asked.
The tips of Diego’s ears turned red. I really wanted to know how he’d managed to stop his face from turning red as well. It was a trick I desperately needed to learn.
“He just doesn’t want to share his friend,” I said.
Dad gently untangled himself from my hold and got up. “I’ll have a talk with Savio before he picks you up.”
“Dad—”
“No,” Dad said firmly, and I snapped my mouth shut, knowing when to retreat. I decided to switch the topic quickly so Dad didn’t reconsider his decision.
“Can Toni come over tonight? I miss her so much.”
“She’s back home?” Mom asked as she stepped into the kitchen.
I nodded. “Came home yesterday.”
Nonna clucked her tongue. “Growing up the way she does, no good will come of that.”
Dad chuckled. “Antonia is a good girl. She can’t help her upbringing.”
Heat washed over me. “Toni’s dad tries to raise her as well as he can.”