51
Kisses with a taste of summer
Julieta
Ever since my eyes met Salvatore”s again, I”ve been more nervous and irritable than usual. It was as if the years hadn”t passed and he had returned to my life with the same force as always.
Throughout all the summers of my childhood and adolescence, he was there. With his mischievous gaze and that constant vertigo that tightened my stomach until it completed a series of fifty somersaults.
Him and his jokes, him and his constant digs at R, him, him, him...
He always looked down on my brother. Salvatore was the eldest, the heir of Don Giuliano, and that gave him a status that fluttered above his head like a banner that dictated his demeanor—one that was expected of the eldest son of one of the most feared and influential men in Calabria.
His whole life was spent preparing for the moment when his father would pass the baton to him. As my Nonna said, Uncle Giuliano was the most ruthless and steadfast capo in the history of the ‘Ndrangheta, and living up to him was no easy task. So the pressure on my cousin was very high.
Every year we exchanged houses, meaning either my parents sent us to Calabria for the summer and they would come the last week of August to spend it there and take us back with them, or it was our cousins, Salvatore, Piero, and Giovanna, who came to our house, and my uncles did the same.
Year after year, the mini Capuletos prepared for what was going to be the best summer of our lives. That”s how we saw it, although that season always brings good things when you”re a kid with several months ahead full of sun, beach, pool, and outings.
We all awaited the end of school to reunite and enjoy ourselves. Even though we might fight, or R and S got along like cats and dogs. ”Firstborn children of the mafia things,” our parents and uncles would joke.
In my case, I don”t know when my perception of my cousin changed, or if it ever did.
I thought he was so handsome from a young age that even my favorite doll was named after him. Maybe I always liked him, because blue was my favorite color and everyone at home had brown eyes. His eyes reminded me of those aquamarine earrings that twinkled in my mother”s ears. My father had given them to her for one of their anniversaries, and I was fascinated by them, they seemed the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, along with Salvatore”s eyes.
My cousin was handsome, very handsome, and he knew it. He was also aware that all the girls in the development where we lived awaited the arrival of the Italian who appeared every biennium.
Naturally, he, his brother, and mine, who were of similar
ages, were always bustling about together.
Giovanna and I were ostracized due to our age, gender, and not understanding that the boys played in a completely different league, which back then seemed monumental.
They were into bikes, soccer, fights, and various competitions. We were into dolls, walks, and books. Though we all enjoyed the beach, the pool, and the excursions meticulously planned to ensure the summers remained etched in our memory.
Our families were keen on sharing moments, hosting parties, dinners, and always staying together, though not mixed.
My fascination with Salvatore grew as quickly as the marks on the wall that our uncles used to measure us accumulated lines.
Secretly, I crowned him prince of my imaginary kingdom, treasuring that photo of us together building a sandcastle on the beach, like precious gold. Back then, I was only eight years old and didn”t understand that love between cousins was frowned upon. Or, at least, not in the way I longed for Salvatore for myself.
I will always remember that period when my illusions and hopes shattered.
I had turned twelve, so it was time for summer in Calabria.
My mother and aunt were in the living room, having a cup of tea and discussing their matters. My cousin had already started shaving and had a pack of crazed followers behind him, constantly sending him love letters and batting their eyes at him whenever they saw him.
I will always remember that slice of time when my illusions and hopes shattered.
I had turned twelve, so it was time for summer in Calabria.
My mother and aunt were in the living room, having a cup of tea and discussing their matters. My cousin had already started shaving and had a horde of crazed followers behind him, who kept sending him love letters and batting their eyes at him whenever they saw him.
I was about to enter when I heard something that made me stop.
”Do you know that the other day I caught my Salvatore kissing the Montardi girl?” my mother shrieked in horror, while my heart shattered. I had hoped that my cousin would notice me differently, that he would look at me with new eyes and realize I had grown, but if he was seeing another girl, that wouldn”t happen.
”And what did Giuliano say?”
”He didn”t find out. Thankfully. When I went to scold our son about whether there weren”t more girls in Calabria to kiss, he simply replied whether I seriously thought he was going to marry her for a tongue exchange. He did it because she was pretty and let him.”
The two of them laughed. To me, the answer seemed abominable; didn”t Salvatore care about that girl”s feelings? And what now, was he going to kiss any girl who let him?
It didn”t seem right to enter, especially because it would interrupt the conversation and I wouldn”t be able to hear all that privileged information about my cousin that interested me so much. I decided to hide behind the door frame leading to the hallway, it was impossible for them to see me from there and I could listen without the risk of being discovered.
”He”s at that age,” my mother noted. ”My Romeo has also started flirting with girls, it”s natural for our children to experiment if they”re given the chance, they”re very handsome.”
”The one who is truly beautiful is Julieta,” admired my aunt, making my cheeks blush.
”Yes, she”s nearly ready to change, her body is no longer that
of a little girl and I got my period at twelve.”
”She has shot up since last summer and is starting to develop...” she gestured towards my breasts, making me uncomfortable. I didn”t like them talking about me in those terms. ”Massimo will have to load the shotgun very soon.”
”He”s had it loaded for a while now, believe me. It”s a shame she and Salvatore are cousins, because they would make a beautiful couple,” my mother”s reflection made me swallow hard and curl my toes.
”Oh yes, and besides, we get along so well, can you imagine? A wedding between our children? Our grandchildren would be gorgeous, and Julieta is so sweet and cheerful, she takes after you.”
”Well, but it wouldn”t be right, you know what they say, if you mix blood in the same family, the kids turn out foolish.”
Foolish? I had never heard anything like that, why would they turn out foolish? Didn”t the Bible say we were all children of Adam and Eve? What then?
I nervously bit my fingernail, pondering what I had just heard. If that was true, if Salvatore was forbidden, it meant that, no matter how much I liked him, my cousin would never marry me. I kicked the floor.
Well, if it was a matter of blood, they might as well change mine or give me a transfusion!
”Spying on our mothers, Juls?” Salvatore”s warm, raspy voice caught me off guard.
My shock was so great that I jumped and nearly screamed if his hand hadn”t covered my lips.
My cousin used that nickname to address me, drawing out the ”l” and softly trailing the ”s”. His voice, now much deeper and more masculine than it had been years ago, almost made me sigh.
I turned around with the heat of his palm over my lips. The contact made my skin tingle and my heart rate accelerated as I
felt him so close, with barely any personal space between us.
I glanced at his chin, split into two, the square jaw that lifted a most harmonious face. His characteristic black hair fell messily over the sea of his eyes.
An indolent smile marked his well-defined mouth, neither too thick nor too thin, perfect for the daughter of the Montardis to have wandered upon, the same one I had wanted for myself before knowing I was forbidden.
His hand moved away, giving me the chance to speak.
”I was waiting, I didn’t… didn’t want to interrupt them,” I admitted, trembling.
Heat, so much heat, enveloping me, scorching me. It hardly mattered that it was an unusually cold day for August because I was burning up.
Salvatore”s hands rested against the wall, leaving me no chance to step back. Not that I could have. My legs were trembling too much. He was much taller than me, so I had to lift my head to look him in the face.
”And what were they talking about?” he asked, curious.
”About you and the Montardi girl, that you had kissed her,” I replied, omitting the more dangerous part where our mothers had married us off and banned the idea simultaneously.
My eyes flew to his lips, still curved and moist. Had he licked them like a cat eyeing a frightened bird?
”Ummm, it”s true that I kissed her... Have you been kissed yet, Juls?” My heart couldn”t beat any faster, he was so close I could count the few freckles that dotted his face, although the most visible was on his left cheek, right where the cheekbone was marked. I wanted to touch it with my finger. ”Answer,” he urged me.
”No, I haven”t been kissed,” I responded, my face flaming.
”And do you want to be? Do you want to know what it feels like when a boy holds you in his arms and devours your mouth, twining his tongue with yours?”
Why was he asking me these things? Why was he so close? And why did I so desperately want to know what he was suggesting?
For a moment, I thought he was going to do it, that he wouldn”t care that I was his little cousin and that he would kiss me just as he had the daughter of his enemy. Deep down, I longed for it to be so and for his lips to be the first to caress mine. But a noise in the living room made him jump back and move away.
He pressed his index finger to his lips in a pact of silence and winked at me.
”If they ask, you haven”t seen me,” he murmured before sprinting out the front door. Definitely, he wasn’t going to kiss me that summer.