There is a desperate, needy undercurrent to our love-making, the term feeling so official now that we are drowning in our words of love for each other: I love you, ti amo, hai conquistato il mio cuore. I love that last one. He whispers it to me moments before he comes—you have conquered my heart.
This feels like the biggest prize of all.
And my heart . . . well, he conquered mine a long time ago.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Love makes you do foolish things. That’s why there are so many movies, plays, and songs written about it. When you’re in love, you don’t think straight. But in some cases, you think more clearly than ever.
Love makes you bold.
The next morning, at the end of our trip to Pompeii in the shadow of Mount Vesuvius, we watch Annabella as she brings cups of water for the stray dogs that roam around the place, hiding out in the shade.
“I think you have a little animal lover on your hands. Maybe she’ll be a vet,” I tell Derio.
He smiles at this but it falters at the corners. I realize I’ve said this as if I won’t be around in the future.
As we walk out of the grounds, grabbing fresh lemon sodas from food carts, Derio hugs me close to him and says, “You know what?”
“What?”
“I think I’m going to race again.”
I can’t help stopping in my tracks. “What?!”
He grins at me and nods. “Yes. I think it makes sense. I am here when I never thought I would be, I have your heart when I never thought I would. I think it’s time for me to go back to racing.”
He looks at the kids, who are staring at him with big eyes.
“What do you all think?” he asks. “Me back on a motorcycle.” He makes the motion with his hands and grumbles like an engine.
“Cool!” Alfonso says.
Annabella is more reserved. “Are you going to get hurt?”
I hate to admit it but that’s what I’m afraid of, too. I look at him for his answer.
“I may get some bumps and bruises,” he explains, putting his hand on her shoulder. “But I will not get hurt. I promise you.” He fixes a steady gaze on me. “And I promise you. I will take it slow and easy. I need time to build myself up again, if I ever get to where I once was. I won’t be a fool this time.”
But I am certain that being a fool at times was what got Derio to all those championships. I’m sure there are a million analogies about life and racing but I know that you can’t get anywhere without taking risks, even ones that don’t seem foolish at the time.
He leans in closer to me. “This will be good,” he says softly. “Trust me. Taking time off has taught me a lot, just as you have. You make me feel so brave, so bold. Free. I don’t have to do this for fame or for money or to keep a wife happy. I can do it for the fun of the ride, for the joy of it all.” And I can see in his eyes that the joy is slowly being rekindled. Even if this will make me worry about him, I could never deny him his joy.
“I trust you,” I tell him, kissing him on the cheek. “Do what makes you happy. Do what makes you feel alive.”
He brings his lips to my ear. “You make me happy. You make me feel alive,” he murmurs, his mouth grazing me.
The kids are looking at us with unamused expressions.
“All right,” I say, taking a quick sip of my lemon soda. “Who wants to go back to Capri and go swimming in the pool!?”
“Si, si!” the twins cry out.
“Si!” Derio raises his hand. I punch him lightly in the arm and we go to catch the train back to Naples.
* * *
What I’ve learned about Derio is when he gets an idea to do something he jumps into it one hundred and ten percent. He lives like he loves, with passion and perseverance and complete commitment.
After we come back from Naples, he’s like a changed man. Actually he had a minor panic attack on the ferry ride back since we took the hydrofoil and hit a patch of rougher water. But he pushed through it, and when we got back to Capri, he started going after his motorcycle dreams with gusto.
First he starts going out on the bike more, early in the mornings, just zipping around the island and racing the sunrise. He still spends time in his library on occasion, editing the manuscript, but for the most part he’s either on his bike, talking about his bike, or fixing his bike.
Apparently he had more than a few of them but sold them after he quit, so he makes it his mission to start getting them back. Meanwhile, he pursues our plan for me to stay here by asking Shay and Signora Bagglia to write testimonies about our relationship. They do so happily, even though Shay hands hers over with tears in her eyes, still hurting after Danny left. I make a promise to come to the bar more in the near future.
But the near future always seems out of reach. With Derio back to racing, he takes frequent day trips to Naples . . . then Sorrento . . . then Salerno. There’s only so much training you can do on Capri, but his frequent trips to the professional tracks in Salerno means he’s gone for two or three nights at a time.
And me? Well, I am stuck firmly in the position of nanny, looking after the children in Capri. We both agreed that the tracks aren’t a good place for kids to hang out, and Derio needs his space to get back into the game.
And I feel for him, I really do. It can’t be easy to give up everything to take care of your brother and sister when it was never in the cards. As much as he tries to do his best by them, he’s still their older brother. He’s not their father and they’re not his kids.