The Star-Crossed Sisters of Tuscany(99)

I pound my fist on the table, startling us both. “What?”

“It changed when you met Liam!” She props her elbows on the table and massages her temples.

I wait, hoping she’ll fit the missing piece into the puzzle that’s been lying unfinished for years.

“Nonna was furious when she found out you had a boyfriend at Barnard. She told me the curse would never allow you to love.”

I’m tempted to blurt out the truth, to expose Nonna as the impostor she is. But Rosa is the only mother figure my sister has known. If, or when, I choose to tell Daria, the conversation needs to be handled with sensitivity, and right now, I don’t have it in me. “She’s crazy,” I say.

“That’s what I told her. But she insisted the relationship would end badly. And then winter break rolled around and I let you borrow my Jeep. Nonna was livid that you’d gone to Liam’s for New Year’s Eve, and royally pissed at me for being your accomplice. She paced the floor in the back kitchen, clutching her rosary beads. She swore something bad would happen, the curse would never allow you to love.”

I picture Liam’s lifeless body. Goose bumps pepper my arms.

“We got into a huge fight. I told her the curse was bullshit.” She looks up at the ceiling and takes a deep breath. “And then you called me from Delaware, hysterical, saying you’d been in an accident.” She shakes her head and looks away.

I reach over and put a hand on hers. “And you thought she’d proven herself right.”

She looks up at me, her lashes spiked with tears. “It totally freaked me out, Emmie. I was terrified for you. All my life I’d heard stories of the Fontana second daughters, like Great-Great-Aunt Blanca, still in her thirties, who died just after she met some widowed farmer. So, I did everything in my power to keep you from finding love. Because I knew—I thought—that if you did, it might just kill you.”

My sister was trying to protect me. I turn to the window. Snow softly falls from a white sky. “So that’s why you came to Italy, trying to drag me home.”

“I was furious when you wouldn’t get on that plane. I mean, three second-born Fontanas traveling together? I was sure something awful would happen.”

“But it didn’t.”

“I know. There is no curse. I know this now, just like I knew it when we were kids.” She lets out a half laugh, half cry. “I’m a grown woman. I can’t believe I fell for it.”

“I fell for it, too.” I lean back in my chair, trying to digest the words, trying to understand my sister’s actions. “I get it now. Sort of. But why did you treat me so badly? Did you do it to please Nonna?”

“I’m not trying to make excuses, Emmie, I swear. But being the, quote, anointed firstborn daughter wasn’t easy, either.”

“Oh, spare me.”

“It’s true!” She looks off into the distance. “You had the one thing I wanted: freedom.”

I look up with a start. She lifts a hand. “Don’t act so surprised. You knew I had doubts about Donnie before we married. Remember when I wanted to move to Colorado with Carleana Garagiola? It was you who nixed the idea.”

I rear back. “I did not! Rosa put the kibosh on it.”

“Yes. And you took her side.”

The memory returns to me in bits and pieces. Daria squeezing my hand as she dragged me into the back kitchen. My heart heavy, like someone had filled it with wet sand. Rosa standing at the stainless steel sink, loading dishes into the bubbly water. Dar stumbling over her words, trying to spit out that her engagement was off, that she wasn’t cut out to be somebody’s wife. The relief pouring over me when Rosa shouted down the idea. If you do not marry this man, your poor father will have no grandchildren. My sister’s face as she turned to me, hopeful, imploring me to take her side. Me, unable to speak.

I hang my head. “I’m so sorry, Dar.”

She shrugs. “I should have known it was too much to ask. You were petrified of crossing Nonna.”

My heart pitches and I take a deep breath. “The truth is, I was petrified of losing you.” I rub my temples. “You were all I had. And I put my happiness above yours. I’m so sorry.” I place a tentative hand on her arm. “Will you please forgive me?”

She looks into my eyes and gives a wobbly smile. “It’s all good. Donnie’s a great dad. I adore the girls. You know that, right?”

“Of course. You’ve got a great family.”

She takes a deep breath and nods. “Which is why I feel like a selfish bitch when sometimes I look at my life and think, ‘Is this it?’ I mean, why couldn’t I have been the second-born daughter? You have so many possibilities, Em, but until Poppy came along, you’d squandered them. You took up residence in this boring little Emville like it was your retirement home. All that was missing was a rocking chair and a crocheted tissue box.”

My quick burst of laughter fades to silence. “But you did nothing to encourage me. You did just the opposite.”

“I know. I wanted it both ways. I was afraid to let you leave, but angry when you didn’t. And then I got pregnant, and married Donnie. It became clear pretty quickly, it was useful to have you here.” She gives a little laugh and looks down at her hands. “In fact, I don’t have a clue what I’d have done without you all these years. I figured, if you felt needed, you wouldn’t leave. And if you didn’t leave, you’d be safe. But, Emmie, the fact is, you deserve so much more.”