It was not.
“Am I not family, then?”
He turned his head back toward her. “Yes. Of course you are. But you don’t know—”
She cut him off. “I would like to finish my thought. Because maybe I see things a new way. Do you know how many photos of you are hanging in the hallway downstairs?” When Carlo didn’t answer, Sabina did. “Twenty-nine. Thirty-one of Carmen. Twenty-six of Luca and the same of John. Do you know how many photos are of Joey? Of Rosa? Six of Joey. Five of Rosa. There are twelve photos of Trey on that wall. More than Rosa and Joey altogether.”
“You counted?”
“I was curious. I see that your whole life is…the word is…chronicled in this house. The same is with Carmen, Luca, and John. But Joey and Rosa? No.”
“Our mother died. We have different…” He stopped, and Sabina thought she knew why.
She filled in the word he’d tripped over. “Priorities?”
He was getting even angrier. He tossed his glasses down on the bed. “What’s your point, Sabina?”
The last time he’d called her by her full name was beyond memory. Sabina was beginning to feel real fear now. But she also felt strongly, somehow, that she had to continue to press her point—not only for Rosa and Joey, but for herself. “I know how you love them. It is not a question at all. But you yourself said that you rescue Joey always and never teach him how to save himself. I think something like is in your love for Rosa, too. You call her a princess, you call her spoiled, but no one makes any demand on her that would help her see that she is. You complain amongst yourselves that she should be here, but no one demands it of her. You let her be away from this family time, when even I am told to stay, that family comes together, no matter what.”
She took a breath and said her real point. “Carlo, what does that say to Rosa about her place in the family?”
He stared at her, his eyes dark and hard. And then he got up from the bed and stalked to the door, grabbing his jeans on the way.
“Where are you going?”
“Downstairs. I’m not tired.” And he was gone, closing the door firmly behind him.
Sabina wondered whether she’d just changed everything.
~oOo~
She was lying in the dark, on her side, when he came back up later. Perhaps two or more hours had passed. She felt the bed dip as he sat on the bed.
“Bina, are you awake?”
“Yes.” She turned to her back. “I’m sorry you’re so angry.” She didn’t want to apologize for what she’d said, because she wasn’t sure she’d been wrong to say it. But she was certainly sorry for his anger.
He lay down at her side. She could smell scotch on his breath, but he didn’t seem drunk. “It’s hard to hear another way I’m fucking up. I guess I wasn’t expecting that from you.”
Rolling to face him, she brushed her fingers across his furrowed brow. “I didn’t mean that, Carlo. It’s not you only. The whole family does it, and it’s done of love.”
“You’re right. I see it. I don’t know what to do about it. She’s almost twenty-one. It’s not like we can ground her.”
Sabina didn’t know, either. Family dynamics like this were new to her. “Maybe speak with her? She loves you so.”
He chuckled. “She’s my Peanut. She’s a good girl, you know. She really is.” He took her hand and kissed her palm. “I’m sorry I got mad. I had to work out the things you said.” His hand released hers and went around her waist, and he pulled her close. A knot in Sabina’s chest loosened as she knew that they were all right. “You were right to say them, though. You didn’t overstep.”
“I love you, Carlo. Thank you for giving me this family. This home.”
~oOo~
There was a knock on the bathroom door. “Baby, everything okay? You’ve been in there a long time.”
“Sorry. Sorry. Things are fine.” Sabina turned again and tried to see her rear view. Dressing like this in the old-fashioned hall bathroom on the second floor of the house on Caravel Road was much harder than it had been when she’d had a bathroom of her own that was the size of the living room here.
She held up a hand mirror and tried to see if there was too much skin showing. The dress had cutout low on the back, and she didn’t want the top of her bottom showing. She was not a plumber.