33. DANTE

“The first payment has been arranged, sir,” Carlo says. “The annuity will be deposited in Mr. Sparks’ account in the morning.”

The sun is warm on my face as I smell the herbs that grow in a special box channel near the main courtyard of the south garden. It’s one of the rare occasions when Carlo’s ever joined me outside of the palace. Our relationship over the past twenty years has taken place almost entirely in offices.

“What does it work out to with exchange?” I ask.

“Approximately $2.4 million US at today’s rate, though it’s expected to rise slightly by wedding day.”

Amanda wasn’t specific as to how much her father’s operation was in debt, but I’m sure a lump sum payment of this magnitude should go a long way to easing her and Ike’s minds.

Carlo sidles up to me, leaning his tall frame forward to get a whiff of the herbs himself. Basil, rosemary, sage, lavender: it all combines into a heady scent that I’ve loved since I was a child.

I wanted to get some private time in the gardens before they’re overrun with people tomorrow.

“What do you think of Amanda’s idea for the gardens tomorrow?” I ask. “Are we risking too much? Is it better just to play it safe?”

“I think your father would be very proud of you, sir,” Carlo says. “And he would have loved the idea. He valued people over possessions, more than any nobleman I’ve ever met before or since. Except for you.”

“Thank you, Carlo. Coming from you, that means a great deal.”

“If that’s all, sir, I’ll retire to my office. I’ve tarried in the gardens long enough.”

“You really need to get out of your office more, my friend.”

“Some day,” he says with a smile. “But not today. Ciao.”

He strides off down the path from the courtyard to the entrance to the palace. As I watch him go, it occurs to me yet again that Carlo has sacrificed a family of his own to help keep mine from flying off the rails. In many ways, he’s more my family than Isabella ever was.

“He’s got us! Help, he’s got us!”

I turn to see Ike ambling towards me, carrying a twin under each beefy arm. He’s back in his usual clothes today: a short-sleeved blue plaid shirt and jeans.

“You should keep better track of your calves,” he says, plopping the giggling duo on the grass next to us. “I caught these two tryin’ to jump the fence.”

Vito jumps into my lap. “Uncle! Mr. Sparks says he’s going to take us to his ranch in Montana! Can we go?”

Ike shades his eyes and scans the gardens. “Where’s that Mr. Sparks?” he says. “I don’t see ‘im anywhere.”

“We’re supposed to call him Ike,” says Oriana. “Pay attention, Vito.”

Vito sticks his tongue out at her, so, of course, she sticks hers out at him.

Ike looks down at them. “You two need a salt lick?”

“What’s a salt lick?” asks Vito.

Ike sighs. “You got a lot to learn if you’re gonna be cowboys.” He tilts his head towards Oriana. “Pardon me, ma’am, I meant cowpersons.”

I smile down at the twins. “And what are you going to see when you’re there?”

Oriana starts ticking off items on her fingers.

“Disneyland, the Statue of Liberty, the Grand Canyon, the Rocky Mountains…”

Ike holds up his hands in surrender.

“Whoa, there, girl, that’s a lot to see. America’s a big country.”

“How big?” asks Vito.

“California alone is over 100,000 times bigger than Morova,” I say.

Vito’s eyes pop. I never really gave much thought to how isolated they’ve been here. They’ve traveled on the continent a few times, but most of their lives have been spent right here on this island.

I always thought it was good enough for me, so it was good enough for them. Now I’m beginning to discover a whole new world.

“Heck, my ranch is almost as big as Morova,” Ike says.

“Speaking of Montana,” I say, “I wanted you to know the first annuity will be deposited in the account you provided us in the morning. Approximately midnight tonight Montana time, I believe.”

Ike’s reaction is more emotional than I expected. I see a shimmer of tears in his eyes as he reaches out a hand to shake mine.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Ike says, his voice cracking.

“Think nothing of it,” I say. “It’s just a formality.”

“It’s no formality to me, son. It’s life-changin’ is what it is. This whole thing – ” He waves a hand at the gardens, the palace, the children. “It’s like I walked into a storybook. A tiny brain like mine just can’t take it all in, y’know?”

Tiny brain, my ass. Ike Sparks is one of the smartest men I’ve ever met.

“Ike, I wouldn’t know the first thing about running a cattle ranch,” I say. “If you dropped me into the middle of yours all by myself, the cows would probably be dead from my incompetence within a week.”

Ike claps a hand on Vito’s shoulder, all but covering it with his palm.

“Best get these kids trained on ranch life soon, just in case that ever happens,” he says.

“Yesss!” Vito shouts, pumping his little fist.

“Well then,” I say. “I suppose we’d better arrange a visit to Montana after the wedding.”

“Really?” Oriana asks, eyes wide.

“Of course.”

“YAYYYY!” they cry. Ike joins in with a “Ya-HOO!”

The children head to a spot on the grass to discuss their impending voyage to America. As they do, Ike leans close to me.

“By the way,” he says with a chuckle. “You finally shake that bachelor party hangover?”

Ugh. I barely remember anything that happened after Ike and I talked that night. We got to our hotel suite and I passed out. Woke up still woozy and with the worst headache of my life. I vaguely remember someone coming into my room.

“I did,” I say. “But it took a couple of days. I swear I’m not normally that bad after I drink.”

“If I hadn’t seen you partyin’ on the cover of all those supermarket papers, I woulda worried that you were a lightweight, the way you were the next mornin.’” He grins. “’Course, I don’t get hangovers. Stick to beer, never fear.”

More sage advice from the Buddhist master.

Suddenly Ike snaps his fingers and reaches into the front pocket of his jeans.

“Almost forgot,” he says, rummaging around before emerging with a small box. “I got somethin’ for you.”

“What’s this?” I ask.

“Aw, it’s nothin,’ really. Just somethin’ I thought you might be able to use.”

He opens the box to reveal a pair of cufflinks. They’re sterling silver, engraved with a series of six intersecting lines that form a star-like shape.

“That’s our brand there,” he says, running his finger over the star. “It’s supposed to look like a spark, since we’re Sparks Land and Cattle, though there’s not as much land now as there was.”

He runs his thumb along the jewelry, as if lost in his memories.

“My grandpa had ‘em made up for his wedding back in 1935, and then my dad wore ‘em when he married my ma. I wore ‘em when I married Amanda’s mom. If I’d had a son, I woulda passed ‘em on to him, but I didn’t, so…”

I stare down at them, avoiding his eyes for fear that I might not be able to keep myself in check. People rarely give me things without expecting something in return.

“I understand if you don’t want ‘em,” he says. “They’re not worth anythin.’ I saw the rock you gave Amanda for her engagement ring, and I know these don’t come close to measurin’ up to that.”

“On the contrary,” I say, grinning stoically. “That ring was my mother’s before she died. It’s only fitting that I wear your father’s cufflinks for the ceremony. I’m sure Amanda has told you about the importance of tradition in the Trentini family. This and her ring are symbols of our two families joining together.”

“Well, all right, then,” he says with a wide grin. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. Thank you, Ike.”

“You’re welcome, Your Highness,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder. “I’m glad to finally have a son to carry on the tradition.”

The twins choose that moment to come running back to us.

“I don’t suppose there are any children around here who would like to go to the lagoon?” I say, trying to head off any uncomfortable questions.

Their eyes light up. “Can Ike take us?” Oriana asks.

“Yes, please,” says Vito, ever the gentleman.

“You’ll have to ask him,” I say.

“Please, Ike,” they beg in unison, sounding like Oliver Twist asking for more gruel in the classic movie.

“Sounds like a plan,” he says, hoisting them up over his shoulders as if they weighed nothing at all. “You two need a good bath, anyway. You’re startin’ to smell like my cows.”

The children giggle as he turns to head back to the palace. Before he leaves, he glances back at me.

“Good talkin’ to you, son,” he says.

“The pleasure was all mine,” I say. Truer words were never spoken. “Now move along and get those cows down to the watering hole.”

The man who will be my father-in-law tomorrow retreats to the palace with the children, leaving me alone to contemplate whether I’m about to make a colossal mistake.