by Nicole Maggi
“Not a big deal?” Lidia grabbed my arm and dragged me through the living room to the large window in the kitchen. Outside, the goats milled across the pasture, and the low sun spilled over the treetops of the forest beyond. “You see how nice this view is now? When we look out this window we will see a big, ugly building. All those trees will be gone.” She let go of my arm so forcefully that I stumbled back against the island. “Not to mention the lights that will be on day and night and the noise. We might as well burn the farm down and move back to Italy,” she yelled.
“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” Mr. Salter said from the doorway of the kitchen.
I narrowed my eyes at him. Was he still under the influence of the magic? Its hold on me must have broken the moment I realized what it was. The Eagle said it was more of an influence than control.
“They have to do all sorts of environmental studies before they can get permission to build, don’t they?”
Lidia’s face was as red as the tomato sauce she had simmering on the stove. “They’re not going to get that far.” Her voice shook. “Not if I have something to say about it. Alessia, go get your markers.”
I squinted at her. “Huh?”
“I think we have some old poster board in the guest room closet,” she said, tapping her fingers on her lips. She pushed herself away from the counter.
I caught her sleeve as she brushed past me. “Mom, catch us up. What are you doing?”
“Making posters, of course.” She shrugged away from me. I followed her at a jog as she headed upstairs to the guest room. “Protesting the plant. We’ll put them up all over town.”
Sometimes I wondered if Lidia had taken a backward detour from her traditional Catholic upbringing to the sixties. But I knew that once she set her mind to something it was hard to deter her. “Do we have to do this now?” I asked as she searched the closet in the guest room and produced a few sheets of poster board that must have been left over from a long-ago school project. “I have homework, and Jonah is coming over in an hour.”
“You can help me after you’ve finished your homework.” She bustled past me, poster board tucked under her arm. “Are you staying for dinner?” she asked Mr. Salter as she went back downstairs.
“I’ve got inventory at the store,” he said, putting his jacket on. “Rain check?”
Lidia nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.
I rolled my eyes at Mr. Salter. “See what you started?”
He didn’t smile. “I didn’t start anything. Those people from the Guild came to see your mother. She called me in a tizzy. I was trying to calm her down.”
“They came to see her?” A little throb started at the side of my head. This was why Mr. Wolfe wanted her to go to the second presentation. Wait a second. Mr. Wolfe must have used the same magic when he visited Lidia. That was why he wanted to meet with her personally, so she’d agree to the plan. How had the magic not worked on her? I opened the front door. “Uh, thanks, Mr. Salter.”
“Let me know if I can help.” He rested his hand on the doorknob, then turned back to me. “I just don’t understand why I didn’t make the connection when I saw the presentation.”
“I didn’t, either,” I said in what I hoped was a reassuring voice.
“Ah, well.” He opened the door. “Hey, I may need your help at the store in the next few weeks. Are you up for it?”
“Definitely,” I said, nudging the door closed a little to encourage him out. He jogged down the front steps. I closed the door and went straight to the kitchen.
Lidia bent over a piece of poster board on the table, tracing large letters in pencil.
I leaned against the doorway, twisting my fingers together. An image swam to the surface in my brain. The list of possible problems, my mother at the top. “Maybe you should hold off on putting these posters up.”
“Oh? Why?” She paused her writing and looked at me.
“Because I think—I think these guys, the Guild, are pretty powerful.” I touched her arm. “Maybe being the fly in their ointment isn’t such a good idea.”
“Well, someone has to do it. And sometimes you have to take a risk to be that someone.” She patted my hand and finished the letter she was tracing.
“But is it worth the risk?” I pressed my palms on the edge of the table. “Who knows what their reaction will be. What if they come after us, after the farm?” In my head I heard that unseen voice on the teleconference phone. Take care of it, gentlemen . . .
Lidia pursed her lips and shook her head. “They can’t do that. This is America.” Even after fifteen years of citizenship, she still spoke the name of her adopted country with awe.
“Yeah, but I don’t think these guys play by the rules.”
“Alessia, I cannot sit and do nothing.” She put her hand on my arm and looked me in the eye. “Your father wouldn’t sit and do nothing.”
She was right; my father would plaster a sign on Mr. Wolfe’s front door if it came to that. I swallowed and ducked my head.
Lidia squeezed my fingers. “Now go do your homework before your boy gets here.”
I backed out of the kitchen and went up to my room. The throb started again in my temple, like someone chiseling words that didn’t belong there. How could I make her see how serious this was without jeopardizing my own secrets? I sank onto the bed with my copy of Wuthering Heights, but the print blurred on the pages in front of me. Wouldn’t it be worth breaking rule number one if I could protect my mother?
Protect. I dropped the book onto my pillow, went to my desk, and opened the top drawer. Stashed in with a mishmash of playing cards and old date books was the amulet I had found in the basement. I’d put it here after the mystery of the Benandanti had been solved and forgotten about it.
I pulled out the amulet and held it in my hand. This house is under the protection of the Benandanti. It was, indeed. Had the amulet blocked Mr. Wolfe’s magic with its own?
Downstairs, the bell rang.
I tucked the amulet back in the drawer and slammed it shut. If there was anything that could distract me and lighten my mood, it was Jonah. I only hoped Lidia was as charmed by him as I was.
With a deep breath, I answered the door. “Hey.”
He held up a covered plate. “I come bearing gifts.”
I opened the door wider to let him in. As he passed into the living room, I noticed that the wildness of his hair had been tamed a little, and he was wearing a neat sweater and jeans under his peacoat. I smiled. “Thanks for coming.”
“Thanks for saving my life in advance,” Jonah said, shrugging out of his coat. “My mom was attempting beef Wellington for dinner. I wouldn’t be surprised to go home and find my entire family poisoned.”
I laughed and led him into the kitchen. Lidia had abandoned the posters for cooking; the poster board was stashed in the corner by the door. That was a relief. “Mom, Jonah’s here.”
Lidia shut the oven door and came toward us, wiping her hands on her apron. “Buonasera,” she said and held out her hand. Lidia always laid on the Italian when she was trying to impress—or intimidate—someone.
“Thanks for having me,” Jonah said, balancing the plate of cookies in one hand as he shook Lidia’s with the other. “My mom made these.”
“Grazie.” Lidia took the plate and set it on the counter.
“How long ’til dinner?” I asked.
“About a half hour. We’re having chicken parmigiano.” She eyed the two of us standing side by side. “Why don’t you set the table?”
“Actually, I thought I’d show Jonah around the farm,” I said. I tugged him toward the back door. “We’ll be back in fifteen minutes, okay?”
“Take the lantern—it’s dark out,” Lidia called after us.
I flicked the outside light on just before I closed the door and slid my hand into Jonah’s.
“She seems like she’s gotten over being mad at me,” Jonah said.
I squeezed his hand and leaned into him. “The
real test will be at dinner. If she starts talking to me in Italian, you know you’ve been blackballed.”
“I knew I should have taken Italian instead of French.”
We were at the barn. I opened the door and stepped into the calm warmth. A lantern hung on a peg beside the door, and I clicked it on, illuminating the earthen floor and stacks of hay with dim golden light. Jonah walked in behind me and closed the door. The goats rustled in the pens, bleating softly as they sensed humans in their midst.
“Buonasera,” I said. “That means ‘good evening.’”
Jonah put a hand on my waist. “Buonasera, Alessia.”
“You might hear my mother call me cara,” I said. “That means ‘dear.’”
“Cara,” Jonah murmured. It sounded completely different on his tongue than my mother’s.
I leaned into his hands and turned my face up to his. I had never realized the barn could be so romantic.
Jonah lowered his head to mine. “Teach me another,” he whispered.
“Baciami,” I said. “Kiss me.”
He obliged and walked me gently backward until we hit one of the wooden posts that framed the pens. I molded myself against him and twined my fingers in his hair.
“Ahem.”
Wild horses couldn’t have dragged us apart faster. Before I knew it, Jonah was on the other side of the barn.
I hugged myself. “Hi, Heath.”
“Hi yourself,” Heath said. His gaze shifted from me to Jonah and back again.
“This is Jonah,” I said.
“We’ve met,” Jonah said. “You, uh, have a knack for interruptions.”
“One of my many talents,” Heath said, his voice easy.
I thought that would be the end of it. I smoothed my shirt down and followed them back to the house. But as Jonah faded out into the darkness, Heath gave me a look that nicked me to the quick. “We’ll talk,” he growled and stalked over the hill toward his cabin.
I stopped in my tracks. Crap. What had I done wrong now? Pressing my cold hands to my flushed cheeks, I hurried in through the back door.
After Lidia had dished out heaping plates of chicken parmigiano, she sat down and sipped her wine, eyeing Jonah over her glass. “So, how was school today?”
I nodded at Jonah. “That’s to you.”
Jonah swallowed. “Oh. Um, fine, I guess.”
“What’s your best subject?”
“I do pretty well in French,” Jonah answered.
I choked back a laugh. French was one of the only classes Jonah made a regular appearance in.
Lidia ran her finger along the rim of her wineglass. “Did Alessia tell you she won a writing competition last spring?”
“Mom . . .”
“What? I can’t be proud of my only daughter?”
“She did tell me,” Jonah interjected. “I think it’s really cool that she loves to write.”
“Do you like to write?” Lidia asked.
Jonah shook his head. “I’m more of a reader.”
“You should see his room,” I said. “It’s wall-to-wall with books.”
“I guess you’ve spent some time in his room, then?”
Busted. I shoved a pile of chicken into my mouth.
“Alessia’s really helped me out in biology and math,” Jonah said.
I shot him a grateful look, but I didn’t think his defense would help me much.
“Alessia is a model student,” Lidia said. She set her wineglass down. “I would hate to see that change in any way.”
“Me too,” Jonah said. He smiled at my mother, and I saw her face soften a little.
“I’m pleased we agree,” Lidia said and picked up her fork. “So, how’s the chicken?”
“Delicious.” Jonah took another bite. “Way better than anything my mother cooks.”
“I’m sure she does her best,” Lidia said. Modesty about her cooking was not one of Lidia’s virtues. “And what does your father do?”
I dropped my fork. How did Lidia not know who Jonah’s father was? My mind scrambled over the weeks since Jonah had moved here. Lidia hadn’t been to a town meeting in months; in fact, she was so busy on the farm now that she rarely went into town at all. Grabbing my fork, I said, “He’s just a businessman—”
But at the same time Jonah said, “He’s a vice president of the Guild.”
“Scusi?” Lidia narrowed her eyes at Jonah. “What’s your last name?”
“Wolfe,” Jonah said, a little muffled over the chicken in his mouth. “My dad is here working on the hydroelectric power plant they’re building.”
A flush crept up Lidia’s throat. “And do you know where they’re planning on building that plant?”
“Mom, don’t—”
Jonah’s gaze shifted between Lidia and me. “Sorry. Am I missing something?”
“Right next to our farm!” Lidia’s face was mottled and blotchy.
I pinched the skin of my forehead together. “Mom, please. Not now.”
A nerve pulsed at the base of her clenched jaw. “Then when? Someone needs to stand up for the piccolo ragazzo . . . the little guy.”
Jonah nudged me. “Seriously, fill me in.”
I turned in my chair to face him. “Your dad came to see my mom today about the plan. They’re building the plant in the woods right at the border of our property.” I pointed out the large window, even though it was too dark outside to see the forest.
“Wow.” Jonah whistled low between his teeth. “That sucks.”
“That sucks?” echoed Lidia. “That’s all you have to say?”
I glared at her. “What is Jonah supposed to do?”
She waved her fork in the air so hard I was afraid it would fly into Jonah’s eye. “He could talk to his father. Tell him to build it somewhere else.”
“Believe me, I would if I thought it would make a difference,” Jonah said. “But he barely talks to me.”
“Besides, maybe it won’t even happen,” I said. “Like Mr. Salter said, they probably have to do a ton of reports and studies before they can build anything.”
“I don’t know about that,” Jonah said, mopping up the last bit of sauce on his plate with a hunk of bread. “I think I overheard him saying that they’re almost ready to break ground.”
Lidia drank the rest of her wine and slammed her glass down on the table.
I kicked Jonah under the table.
“Ow!” He rubbed his shin.
“I know it’s not your fault, but could you at least be a little indignant on our behalf?” I said.
“I am.” He laid his hands, palms up, on the table. “But what do you want me to do? Chain myself to a tree when the bulldozers come?”
“For starters.” Lidia grabbed his empty plate and reached for my half-full one.
I pulled it closer to me and started shoveling in as much chicken as I could chew.
Jonah took a long gulp of his water before Lidia snatched the glass away from him. “Look, I’m really sorry. It totally sucks that the plant is so close to you. But it could actually turn into a good thing.”
Dishes clattered in the sink as Lidia started to clean up. “Oh? How is it good to chop down half a forest?”
“It’s going to provide clean energy for this entire region,” Jonah said. “And the Guild will replant most of the trees. They have a great environmental track record.”
I pushed my plate away and tucked one leg up against my chest. “That’s not what Bree says.” Was it possible that Jonah was under the same spell as the rest of the town?
Jonah heaved a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, Bree says a lot of things she doesn’t mean. She gets off on playing devil’s advocate.” He touched my knee. “There are a lot worse companies than the Guild.”
If he only knew. Unless . . . I clutched my leg tighter to me. Could it be that Jonah was defending the Guild because he knew exactly what their real purpose was? And unlike his twin, he agreed with it? I looked into his deep green eyes, my heart skittering.
I shook my head to smooth out the suspicion that rankled my thoughts. Heath was right; it was driving me nuts. I didn’t want to doubt every single person in my life. I squeezed his hand. “I’m fine.”
The plate of cookies banged onto the table, breaking us apart. Lidia stood behind Jonah. She plucked a cookie from the plate and bit into it. “Ha bisogno di più zucchero,” she said and refused to speak English for the rest of the night.
I had never been hung over, but the next morning, I was sure I was. As I headed out to the barn, my brain felt broken into a million pieces that I couldn’t quite fit together. With a heavy sigh, I hauled open the barn door and grabbed my basket.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Heath’s voice made me drop the basket. I whirled to face him. The blue light of dawn seeped in through the cracks in the barn walls. I stepped into a weak shaft of it, so I could see Heath’s face, half lit and half in shadow. “What do you mean?” I knew exactly what he meant, but I wanted to hear him say it.
“With that boy. What are you doing?”
“Well, we were kissing. Kissing is when—”
“Cut the crap.” Heath folded his arms. “I didn’t ask what were you doing. I asked what are you doing.”
“What do you mean?” I asked again, genuinely confused.
“After what we found out about his father, you’re still hooking up with him?”
I retrieved my basket. “It’s totally separate.”
“No, it’s not.” Heath grabbed my arm as I strode past him. “Alessia,” he said, his fingers digging into my bicep, “this is not a joke. Mr. Wolfe could pose a real threat to the Benandanti, and you’re dating his son? This isn’t something to take lightly.”
I wrenched my arm out of his grip. My skin burned where he had held it. “The Stag told me to keep pumping my source for information. Who do you think that source is?” Clutching my basket, I headed for the back door of the barn.
Heath followed me so close I could feel his breath on my neck. “That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it. Especially since you haven’t gotten any more information out of him since you saw the plans.”