I find Calvino in the hall. He’s talking to two Capos and I watch until they’re finished. Although Calvino is still not technically a part of the Famiglia, he is Manzini family, and Damon’s treating him like he’s an honorary consigliere—a position officially offered and officially declined. Though I have my doubts.
“It was refreshing to have you in the room for one of those meetings,” Calvino says, hugging me against him as we walk into a quieter part of the house. Most of the Capos gather in the living room in the back of the house to drink and smoke and talk business, while the family disappears into other parts of the Sandtrap. The building’s littered with ghosts, but we’ve learned to make do with their chain-rattling and hauntings. Life continues and memory’s just that: memory.
The Riley in my head’s been silent since the day Vince died.
I miss her sometimes, but it’s better she rests.
“You just like giving me flirty smiles,” I say, getting on my tiptoes to kiss his stubble-studded chin.
“That’s true and you like it.” He squeezes me tight, steering me toward the back of the house.
“Why did I get the invite this time? Far as I know, nothing’s changed. I’m still not technically family.” I say that last bit in my best Damon impression.
“That’s true, but I convinced Damon that technicalities aren’t all that matters. Emilio is technically our brother, for example.”
I nod solemnly. Emilio’s treated more like Vince’s son than their brother—which is a good thing. Charlie talked about moving back in with her family up in Seattle, but she hasn’t taken the plunge yet, and I’m glad for it. She seems happier with Vince gone, and Emilio’s growing so fast, I would hate to miss anything. She’s loved and taken care of and considered technically family, which means she’s free to do as she wishes. Mostly she keeps to herself and steers clear of Damon.
“Besides,” Calvino continues, “I have a surprise for you.”
“Surprise?” I squeeze his hand lovingly. “You shouldn’t have. Taking me to bed already?”
“Not yet, but I like where your head’s at.” He hesitates as we reach the back room. The vaulted ceilings are church-like and a chandelier glitters from the light cast by the ocean. Tables, chairs, couches, everything wrapped in a luxurious veneer, perfectly manicured, magazine-quality decorations. “Come here.”
He steers me to the windows. Beyond, the ocean laps against the sand thirstily. He wraps his arms around me, hugging me from behind as we look to the endless blue frothed with white and I have to wonder where this is coming from, but it doesn’t matter—this is life with Calvino. Happy, content, joyous, ecstatic. All those good words.
“I love you, Grace,” he whispers, kissing my neck. “I need you to know that no matter what happens, I will give you whatever you need. If you want the sand, you’ll have it. If you want the ocean, you’ll have it. I love you more than I ever dreamed I could, and it makes me a better man.”
“I love you too,” I say with a giddy smile. “Where’s this coming from?”
He steps back and as I turn, he drops to one knee, and my hands fly to my mouth as time crawls to a standstill: one of those moments where memory seizes on all the details, all the minute subtleties, all the intricate shifting motions of air and light, and my heart’s racing like a hailstorm, and right there in his hands is a little black box.
“Open it,” he says.
I do.
The ring sparkles. Diamonds, gold, all of them big and shimmering, and he presses the ring on the tip of my finger. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” I say and the ring doubles, triples, and it takes me a second to realize I’m crying, that’s why I can’t see straight, so I wipe my face and laugh and look at the massive ring on my finger as he wraps me in a hug, and kisses me long and slow.
“One more surprise,” he whispers and it’s like my head’s up with that chandelier as he tugs me to the sliding doors that open out to the porch area. Once we step down onto the patio the roar hits me, the shouts of surprise, surprise, surprise! And people step out from behind pillars, table, obstacles—they weren’t well hidden, I’m just not very observant.
“You did this?” I ask, looking back at Calvino.
He kisses me once in return before the tide of people crashes down.
There are Kia, and Ginnie, and Raven and Monique. “Girl, you bagged a good one,” Kia says.
Ginnie cackles. “Lucky as hell.”
“He told us you were missing everyone from the club, so we figured we’d come out and see you,” Kia says as I give her an enormous hug. “This place is massive. Like, stupidly massive. I need a tour.”