Unforgotten by Kristen Heitzmann Read Free Book Online

bold?”
    “Don’t don the gloves if you can’t get in the ring.”
    I raise my chin. “Is this a fight?”
    “Just a form of speech, Antonia. Courting is serious business.”
    I press back into the swing. “What makes you think we’re courting?”
    He smiles. I turn away before it can have its full effect. I’ve dissected his smile in my dreams, considering the strong, white teeth, not so straight as to look fake, the full mauve lips that communicate a wry humor and ardor at once, and the shadow of beard scarcely chased away by the razor.
    Papa saves me from comment by joining us on the porch. Now we will see Marco’s moxie. He stands and shakes Papa’s hand, and I sense a tension between them, but that is natural with suitors and fathers.
    “I think if you’re going to spend time with my daughter, we should talk.”
    Marco nods. I decide with whom I spend time, and a word from me now would be a knockout punch before the bell rings. But I watch them down the stairs, then strolling the drive to the Studebaker and past. Papa will like Marco’s owning a car. Having things makes a man responsible and respectable in Papa’s mind.
    I don’t need a car because I never want to go far enough that I can’t hear the breeze in the vines, the sparrows in the orchard, the whisper of the pale, thin olive leaves. I know the stars that watch over our land, that turn my window into a diamond-studded swatch of black velvet. The smell of the mist at night, the damp earth in the morning. Marco Michelli’s car means nothing to me.
    It is the dark espresso brown of his eyes, the timbre of his voice.
    It is the very vanita with which he approaches me. He is a man who knows what he wants, not a baby who wants me to tell him what he needs. And no matter how I try to resist, that excites me. This is not the old country; it is not the old times, but if Papa feels better having his talks with Marco, that’s all right with me. I can tease later, when Marco is fatted on Papa’s acceptance and not expecting it. I know how to savor the moment.
    ————
    Star’s childlike frame quivered as she described singing in the subway tunnel with Rico playing Chaz’s steel drum. With her iridescent eye shadow and cherry-flavored lip gloss strong enough to scent the whole apartment, she looked twelve trying to be twenty. Though two months younger, Rese always felt like a big sister. No blood connected them, but Star expected the petting, the comfort, the freedom of a younger sibling.
    She gave only what she wanted, everything on her terms. But Rese was glad she was there. Even flighty and erratic, Star was the only constant in her life—except for God. “When all others fail, He will never fail you.” One time the presence had been so real, it consumed her thoughts and made her fight to stay alive. But that was years ago, and she had only recently chosen to believe it. So far it felt like a decision and nothing more.
    “The drum makes these vibrations you can hear forever.” Star made a windy sound with her voice. “And then I sing just like it. No words, just harmonious vibrations echoing in the cement tunnels. It is so synergistic.”
    Harmonious vibrations. Synergistic.
    “And people give us money for it, stopping to listen or just dropping it in as they walk by.” Star imitated the carefree disbursal of wealth. “It’s crazy.”
    “I thought Rico had an agent. Why are you singing in the subway?”
    Star tossed her spirals. “The agent’s dragging his feet without Lance. He wanted the whole package, Rico’s drum, Lance’s lyrics, Chaz and the bazillion instruments he plays.”
    Would Rico push again to get Lance back in the band? The subway thing didn’t sound like Lance’s music, but …
    “Rico’s going to record us in the tunnel. He told the agent we’ve got that Enya sound and thinks the guy might go for it.”
    “What about your painting?”
    “Are you kidding? This is New York. I can do anything.” She was even