SALVAGE PRIDE

23

The waters in his oceanic eyes are raging when he blasts me with his stare. “Do you have something you’d like to say to me?”

My chest rises and falls as I struggle to catch my breath—not from the walk but from the adrenaline surging in my veins. A cataclysmic storm has been brewing between us since the moment I came home.

Maybe even for years.

I’ve tried to be tolerant and understanding, considering he lost his father this week, but my own hurt has grated away at my patience. “Your need to escape our company … my company … has nothing to do with checking on your mother or any other responsibilities.” The bottled-up emotions I’ve been carrying spew out with my words.

“Then what exactly are you implying?” He’s so close. Close enough for me to smell the spice of his cologne and feel the fiery heat radiating off him. He’s nearly as furious as I am, but he’s doing his absolute best to rein in his temper.

Good. Let him be angry.

Let him show me proof that the friend I grew up with is still in there somewhere behind the heartless machine he claims to be.

“I think you’re arrogant—too proud to be seen with the help. That’s your problem—your damn pride. You want to become king of the Giordano family and can’t possibly associate with a lowly soldier and his family. You’re hardly near us for two minutes before you can’t wait to get away.

That’s what I think.”

I expect my attack to instigate an all-out war, but it has the opposite effect.

A veil of placid indifference falls in place over Zeno’s features. The tendons no longer strain in his neck, and the fine lines of fury gathered at the corners of his eyes simply vanish.

The change is instant and absolute.

When he finally responds, his words are a jagged cliffside, coarse and brutally sharp. “I don’t want to be your family. You’re absolutely right. But if I’m to blame for the situation, then it is my loyalty rather than arrogance at fault. Loyalty drives me to forgive when I cannot forget because family is everything. If you think me weak because of it, that is your problem. Do not pretend you are without flaws of your own. Your intentional ignorance keeps you from seeing life’s truths. If our mutual shortcomings combine and lead you to conclude that I am something I’m not, then little can be done to correct the matter.”

Zeno takes a slow step back before turning and stalking out of sight into the hallway.

I feel as though his departure has stranded me alone on a small island. I am bereft, and I don’t know why. My hands tremble as I look around with unseeing eyes and attempt to sort through what happened.

He mentioned forgiveness, but what had been done to him to require his forgiveness? Who had hurt him? Surely, he couldn’t mean me. I’d done nothing but act as a punching bag for his bad temper.

I think back to that painful week when our friendship ended, but just as I have tried countless times before, I can’t identify the reason for his rejection of me. He insinuated I was failing to recognize something obvious, but how could I possibly change that if he didn’t give me a hint? If arrogance wasn’t behind his behavior, what was?

I slump helplessly onto the worn leather sofa in his father’s office. It may be Zeno’s office now, but the room hasn’t been touched. It holds tight to his father’s memory. Mementos sit on shelves along with books and framed photos of a happy family. The essence of him is so strong in this room that I almost feel like he’s still here. Still alive.

“What am I missing, Silvano?” I whisper, only to be met with silence.

Zeno, Age 14

Luisa and Nevio, Age 11

“WHY DO YOU GUYS ALWAYS HAVE TO PLAY HALO?” I GROAN, FLOPPING ONTO THE SOFA IN THE GAME room at Hardwick. The boys got a new Xbox 360 for Christmas and have been glued to it ever since. Some of the games advertised on TV look fun, but I don’t like any of the games the boys have —mostly shooter games and race cars. Blech.

“Because it’s awesome,” Nevio says without taking his eyes from the screen. “Why don’t you go play with Grace if you don’t like Halo?”

“She went to Connecticut for Easter to visit her aunt. The whole family went.”

“And Gia?”

“She asked Mom to show her how to use the sewing machine.” No idea why. I’d rather do a million other things before I’d ask to learn how to sew. So dumb.

“Hey!” Nevio cries. “Why’d you pause it?”

We both look at Zeno, who stands and tosses his controller on the couch.

“How about I go find the old Game Boy for you, Isa? I think we still have the Mario Cart game with it. Would that work?”

I grin so wide my cheeks ache. “Yeah, that works.” Z is the best. If I had a brother, I’d want him to be exactly like Zeno.

He gives me a knowing smirk and jogs out of the room. For the next several minutes, I deal with Nevio moaning about his game being interrupted. I throw a pillow at him, which instigates a pillow fight. We shriek and chase each other around the room with sofa pillows clasped in our hands. I get a particularly savage strike in and laugh hysterically as Zeno returns in the corner of my vision. When I look at where he stands frozen in the doorway, my grin melts from my face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, ignoring Nevio’s return strike to my gut.

“You need to go home.” Zeno’s body is rigid, and his angry glare makes me feel six inches tall.

“But the Game Boy? I thought we were all hanging out.” My voice is barely a whisper because I don’t understand what I’ve done to be sent home.