so different from each other. Definitely the sugar and spice in my life.
In private, sometimes Jeremy refers to Ava as “Deprava.” He refers to Electra as “I’llfuckya.” Isn’t he clever.
Roman thinks Ava and Electra are entertaining and comical. When I asked him once if he thought they were freaky and over the top, he said of course not—they’re just girls.
“Dylan’s seriously unexpected appearance better not be your solution to getting over Tim,” Electra said to Ava, authoritatively. “I mean, if you’ve just summoned him here to dote on you, that’s acceptable…but I better not see you swooning!”
“I see you swooning over Dylan and I will definitely puke,” I added.
“He’s going to be my date at Aunt Carlotta’s wedding this weekend,” Ava explained. “You know I have to bring a date or Papa will make a fuss and try to set me up with Tony Montesilvano. I do realize Dylan’s hardly ‘date’ material, but at least he already knows the family.”
Electra and I exchanged glances. Yeah, okay. We could buy that because Ava’s pretty sensitive about exposing an unknown to the family. In fact, an unknown will usually run after meeting the family. The first complaint is typically the crazy priest, Father De Marco, who’s always shaking a crucifix and shouting drunkenly in Italian. The Damianos brought him along when they relocated from New Jersey. Ava says they moved for a change of pace, but I swear I once overheard Uncle Paolo say they had to “flee” New Jersey because of that “dispute” with the Gasparellos. Now they live on a heavily guarded, walled estate in Del Mar. I mean all of them, and we’re talking like thirty people. Ava’s stepmom, Anna, used to be a showgirl at Bally’s. She is only twenty-nine. Ava’s father, Carlo, married her after one date. Oh, and just for the record—Ava’s little brother, Luciano-Marciano, told me once that he and Anna do it in the closet sometimes when his father isn’t home. Why the closet? You tell me.
“I’m going to call Josh after dinner and make sure his ass is on a plane,” Electra told us. “Because if I find out he took a later flight due to some bullshit market disaster, you just better know he’s not getting any kitty when we go to Palm Springs!”
Electra’s boyfriend lives in New York City. She met him while he was getting his MBA at USC and these days he is a big-shot investment banker on Wall Street. Ava and I call him Mr. Big Bucks in private. Electra is supposed to move out there when she’s ready, but since she’s not ready, he just flies in every now and then to spend a bunch of money on her and get laid. They are planning to get married, but they don’t know when and neither of them is worried that they’ll break up so they don’t press the issue. Out of sight, out of mind is how she feels about Josh. But when Josh is in town, hey, love the one you’re with! Josh thinks Electra is all that and a bag of chips. The cat’s meow. The bee’s knees! He suspects nothing and thinks that his little jewel of a girlfriend is as faithful to him as the Pope is to the Catholic Church.
“Hey, how do you ladies want the burgers?” Dylan called.
“Bloody,” I replied.
“Ew, disgusting!” Electra shrieked. “And here’s something for you to file away for future reference, dipshit—you don’t cook a Gardenburger like a meat burger, you just cook it till it’s not frozen anymore.”
“Kiss my ass, bitch!” Dylan said merrily.
“Kiss mine!”
“You first!” He stuck his ass out and pointed at it. She kissed the air and he went crazy laughing. Roman shook his head and winked at me over the flames.
When we were done eating, Electra went inside to call Josh and the four of us stayed outside and smoked twilight cigarettes. The sky was all violet and red. Electra wrapped the fence with bamboo and put out tiki torches last summer to feign tropical. If not for the police helicopters circling overhead and the constant rush of passing traffic out on Fountain, the ambience would be downright sultry.
Dylan gave Roman a long look. “Hey, brother, can I ask you something?”
“Sure you can, brother,” Roman replied. He had a hand resting comfortably on the back of my neck.
“Is it hard for you to be away from your fine-ass woman so much of the time?”
“Please,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“No, seriously,” Dylan said, rolling his right back. “I want to know.”
Roman looked thoughtful. “Well, of course. Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering.’ Cause you know chicks, they get lonely. And when they get lonely…well…all I’m saying is you shouldn’t leave a fine-ass woman unattended for too long.” He gave me a sly wink, looking devilish in the firelight. We settled into an uncomfortable silence. I shot Dylan the look of death and kicked Ava under the table.
“Bacco, tabacco e Venere riducono l’uomo in cenere,” she said to Roman, knowingly. Wine, women and tobacco can ruin a man. Roman laughed.
“What the fuck was that?” Dylan demanded.
“Nothing, bastardo. You come inside with me now,” she commanded him. “If you’re coming to San Diego with me for the weekend, then we need to get packing.”
“Anything you say, bella.” He slung an arm around her neck and kissed the top of her head as they got up from the table.
I watched them go.
Roman was frowning. He looked concerned. “Do you get lonely?”
I shrugged. “Sometimes.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “You should tell me these things.”
I shrugged again. “It’s nothing, Roman. I just get lonely. I miss you.”
He kissed me. “I miss you, too, Dalton. You have to know that.”
“I do.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
We kissed again. He told me he had something special planned for the weekend, in honor of our two-year anniversary. We were going away, just the two of us. I said I couldn’t wait.
Chapter 2
I was surprised when he proposed. It came out of nowhere. It was the Fourth of July and we were having wine and cheese and crackers and crème brûlée on a cliff by the ocean on Catalina. We were talking about random stuff like what kind of cheese is in cheesecake and how it’s weird that Italy is shaped like a boot and what was really going on in the movie Vanilla Sky. Then he got all serious.
“You know something…Dylan made a good point the other night.”
“Which was?”
“Us being apart as much as we are. It’s not right.”
“Oh, that.” I didn’t want him thinking I was some baby who went around bawling about how neglected she was. “Well, let’s not judge ourselves by anything Dylan has to say. He’s pretty much just a big dorky asshole.”
He
