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watchful.
    The guards were opening the fifteen-foot-high wrought-iron gates. As Constantino's car continued up the long driveway, she waved, acknowledging their arrival, but at the same time she gave a curt order to the florist to space the floral displays a little farther apart and reminded him that everything had to be completed before five o'clock.
    The boys ran from the car and into their grandmother's arms. Her face softened by smiles, her blue eyes warm and brimming with tears, she hugged her grandchildren. Constantino followed, arms outstretched, to kiss his mother. She smiled, touching his face lovingly.
    "Are you well?"
    "Mama, you saw me a month ago. You think I'd change?"
    Graziella linked her arm through her son's and smiled a welcome to her daughter-in-law. Sophia blew a kiss with her fingertips and instructed the maid to take care with the wedding gown, which was draped in sheets to keep it clean. When Sophia came to her, Graziella reached up to stroke her cheek.
    "You have been away too long. I have missed you."
    The car was full to bursting with their luggage. Graziella ordered one of the men to unload it and take the suitcases upstairs.
    Making no effort to help, Constantino asked after his father. Graziella replied that he was in town but would be back by five. She then turned her attention to her beloved grandsons, saying that if they hurried to their rooms, they might just find something underneath their pillows.
    Sophia could hear the boys in the bedroom below. She would have preferred them to be on the same floor that she was, but she knew better than to question Graziella's arrangements. She began to unpack the cases, which were already neatly stacked at the foot of the bed.
    The room was filled with fresh flowers, perfectly arranged, as was the room itself, though Graziella's taste was a little old-fashioned and austere for Sophia. Much of the heavy carved furniture had come from Graziella's family home; it was whispered that her ancestors had been titled aristocrats. Nowhere in the house was there a photograph of these mysterious relatives, and Graziella did not look like a Sicilian. In her youth she had been very blond with piercing blue eyes, looks that only her firstborn child had inherited.
    Sophia snapped open the locks of her case, angry with herself because every time she came here she was reminded of Michael Luciano. Although there was not a single photograph of Graziella's mysterious family, her dead son's face was everywhere. Over the years Sophia had deliberately learned where each silver-framed image was placed, so she could never be taken unawares, never be shocked by seeing him.
    At that moment Constantino walked in, making Sophia even more angry with herself. She hated being caught talking to herself.
    He closed the door and watched her, smiling. Her curvaceous body was usually hidden beneath her perfectly cut and draped clothes; now she was barefoot and wore only a silk slip. It never failed to arouse him when he saw her like this.
    "You need any help?"
    "No, just watch that the boys don't get too unruly."
    "Mama's with them, she's bought them new Action Men."
    "She spoils them." Sophia inspected an outfit she was thinking of wearing for the wedding.
    "She loves them."
    She smiled. "I love you."
    He went to her, but she sidestepped him, laughing. "No, let me unpack. Your papa will be home shortly."
    Constantino caught her in his arms and kissed her neck. "Take your hair down."
    "No, just let me do what I have to do."
    He released her and flopped across the bed. "It's going to be a full house, and guess what? They are actually using Michael's room."
    Sophia almost dropped a coat hanger. "What?"
    Constantino put his hands behind his head and smiled. "Yeah, the groom is to be in Michael's room."
    "I hope they've aired it. It's been closed for years."
    "I peeked as I came up. Most of Michael's stuff has been put away. They couldn't really keep it closed, not with a full house. You know,