The entire trip to America took a little over eight days. It was a fairly miserable experience for me, as I had never been sailing before and never quite got my "sea legs" as the crew said. Instead, I spent my days nauseous and throwing up over the side of the deck, clammy and exhausted. Keeping food down was nearly impossible and caused me to stay incredibly weak. 

The brunette man, Dantae, I later learned, helped to keep my mind off of my swaying legs and queasy stomach. He would sit and talk with me when he wasn't busy bustling around the ship, and I appreciated the company. This was the first time I had interacted with a man my age, and it was refreshing, to say the least. The conversations we had were easy-going and friendly. 

It was when we were having one such of these conversations that Dantae told me about how he had come to be where he was. 

"My father was in the resistance. He thought that what Italy was doing was wrong. Thought that Mussolini's totalitarian way of thinking was nothing more than a dictatorship dressed up in ribbons and bows." He looked down at his hands. "He was right. They killed him for speaking out. I was sixteen when it happened. From that day, I swore I would do whatever it took to oppose those dirty Fascist pigs." He scowled and spit. 

I looked over at him. "I'm so sorry to hear about your father. That's truly awful." 

I didn't mention anything about my lineage or the fact my own family was deeply entangled in the Fascist party's grip on the state. I knew that would do nothing but, at best, provoke Dantae and the others onboard, and at worst, get me tossed overboard. Instead, I listened and sympathized, horrified that this was the cause my father and brothers were working to keeping alive and well. It made me more nauseous than the sea ever could. 

On the eighth day of being tossed to and fro on the endless ocean, we finally spotted the ports of New York. I smiled in relief, beyond happy that I would finally be back on solid ground. 

"We're here!" Dantae said to me, smiling widely and pushing a few of his stray curls out of his face, the wind causing them to have a mind of their own. I smiled back at him. 

As we came closer to the port, I turned to this man who had more or less become a friend to me this past week we'd spent on the cargo steamer. "Say, Dantae, could I give you my address? I'd love to write you sometime, see how everything's going." 

He grinned at me, nodding. "Sure thing. I'll try to get you letters whenever I'm at a safe spot." 

I grabbed a bit of paper and a pencil, jotting down the address to my aunt and uncle's home that I had committed to memory. I handed the paper to him. He glanced at it before folding it and putting it into his pocket. "I'll be sure to keep in touch, (Y/N)." He held out his hand to me, and for once, it clicked why I was so comfortable around Dantae. As I firmly grasped his hand and shook it, it occurred to me that he actually considered me his equal. The thought made me giddy with hope that maybe I could be respected like this by others, as well. "I do wish you the best of luck with everything." 

I nodded. "You, too." 

He helped me off of the boat, and waved to me as I walked away from the steamer and the port. I filed into the country with many other immigrants, it seemed. I saw clothing and items of all sorts of colors and styles that I didn't recognize. It was all a bit overwhelming. I pulled my satchel closer to me, keeping my eyes forward and doing my best to stay on my feet with all the jostling and pushing. I eventually made it into the actual city, which wasn't any less busy. People scurried to and fro as if in a giant ant colony, and several automobiles, trollies, and motorcycles cruised haphazardly on the road. There were several moments when I thought for sure there would be a horrible collision, but miraculously, there wasn't. 

I stepped out of the middle of the walkway under the awning to what looked to be an apothecary of some sort. I dug into my satchel and pulled the piece of paper I had written my aunt's address on out from under my folded dress. Dantae had told me to keep the mens' clothes, as, according to him, it would be easier for me to travel through the city if others thought I was a man. 

Even though I had memorized the address by heart, I clutched the paper in my hands, almost willing it to give me directions. At this point, it seemed to be a sort of comfort to me, just to hold it close to me. I guess having a physical thing like this helped prove to my subconscious doubt that this was real. I was really doing this. 

Up to that point, I hadn't really considered that I didn't know how in the world I was supposed to find this address on my own. This was a foreign land, and I didn't have the faintest clue where to even begin searching. I looked around me, panic grasping at my insides and my head beginning to swim. I scratched the top of my forehead under my cap, pushing it back down quickly to avoid any loose hair tumbling out. I sat on a nearby bench, looking down at the address forlornly. 

"Hey, you. Ya lost or somethin'?" 

I was startled out of my thoughts by a voice, and when I looked up, a woman I had never seen before stood in front of me. She had chin-length, blonde hair intricately fixed in tight waves under her cap, which was not entirely unlike the one I sported on my own head. She wore a knee-length dress that was a light shade of salmon and a knit shawl. The heels on her feet were unlike any that I had worn back at home. And though she wore a dress, she also had what appeared to be a type of mesh covering her legs. I would later learn they were called "panty hoes". When my eyes met her blue ones, something shifted in her countenance. 

"Now, what're you wearin' a man's clothes for?" 

I sucked in a breath involuntarily, fear striking my heart that she had so easily seen through my disguise. 

"I- How did you know?" 

She scoffed, waving her hand at me. "Please, doll. You may be wearin' slacks and suspenders, but your face don't lie." 

I stood nervously. "I just... thought it would be easier..." I trailed off, not really knowing what to tell her. 

She gave me a small, knowing smile. "It is, sweetheart, believe me. Now then, where ya from? Certainly not from around here." 

I found myself becoming less and less anxious as she asked me about myself, detecting no suspicious or hostility in her tone or body language. "Italy," I told her. 

She blinked at me. "Oh wow! Didn't think many were gettin' out of there," she replied, taking what appeared to be a mini cigar out of a pack and lighting it with a match. She took a drag on it and blew out a puff of smoke. My nose wrinkled as I fought the urge to cough. It didn't smell anything like the smoke that came from the cigars my father would buy. "So, honey, what brings ya to the Big Apple?" 

I didn't question the expression, assuming she was referring to New York. "I was to be married against my will. I wanted a life for myself." 

She looked at me, nodding. "Well, that's certainly admirable." She noticed the paper in my hands and gestured to it. "Whatcha got, there?" 

"Oh, it's the address of my aunt and uncle. They left the country right before Mussolini came into power. I'm hoping they still live there." 

I offered the paper out to her and she took it, examining it. "Well would you look at that! Your auntie's got some dough; this is a swanky neighborhood." 

I looked at her. "You know where this is?" I asked hopefully. 

She nodded. "Oh sure. Lots of my best tippers live over there." 

I cocked my head a smidge, confused. "Tippers?"

She arched an eyebrow at me. "Ya ain't never seen a flapper before, huh?"

I shook my head. 

"I'm like an entertainer, honey." 

"I see." 

She smiled good-naturedly. "Come on, doll. I'll take you to your auntie's. I'm Melody, by the way," she added as we walked side-by-side down the sidewalk. 

"(Y/N)," I responded, thanking the stars above that this kind girl had happened to stumble upon me, and that she was willing to take me under her wing. For the time being, anyway. Who's to say she would want anything more to do with me after parting ways? 

"We'll have to cop a hack. Got any cash on you?" Melody asked me. 

I shook my head in answer. "I gave all my cash to the crew who brought me here. All I have left is a gold bracelet encrusted with jewels. I'm not sure anyone would take it as a viable form of currency." 

"Oh, trust me, honey, plenty of people would take it, but those ain't the kinda cats you wanna be runnin' with. Don't worry about it, I'll cover ya this time 'round." 

I looked at her. "Really?" 

She nodded. "'Course! I know a cabby, usually makin' his rounds through this area right about this time." She looked up and down the street, searching for this cabby she knew. She lit up as she seemed to spot him, stepping up to the curb and flagging him down. 

The automobile pulled off, and I stepped back a bit as he got extremely close to Melody and me. The blonde woman seemed unfazed, however, as she stepped up to the vehicle and leaned against it, peering down into the window. 

"Harv!" she cooed, smiling and batting her lashes at him. "Could you do me a favor, baby?" 

The man in the car seemed to be middle-aged, balding, and a little on the tubby side. I glanced between the two of them as the cabby frowned at Melody. 

"Mel, ya killin' me. I honestly don't know why I bother pullin' over; you're always tryin' to stiff me." 

"Oh come on, Harv! Ya know I'm your best customer," she said, putting on an innocent expression. The cabby's only reply was a curt, humorless chortle. "All I need is for you to drive me and my friend, here," she said, stepping back and looping her arm through mine, "just to the good side of town. Won't take two shakes." 

The cabby leaned toward the passenger window, scrutinizing me as closely as he could while still in his seat. "Bit of an effeminate fella, ain't he?"

Melody swatted her hand at him. "Harv, don't be rude. So. You gonna help us, or not?" 

He seemed to consider it for a few moments before reluctantly sighing. "Alright, alright, but I swear this is the last time, Mel! Ya hear me?" 

She nodded absentmindedly, opening the cab door and pulling me in behind her. I reached and pulled the door closed, Harv already taking off before I could do so. 

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But ya always say that."  

"So where's your new bird from, there?" 

The cabby gestured to me with his head, briefly making eye contact with me in the rearview mirror. I pulled my cap down a bit more, suddenly feeling claustrophobic in this metal contraption flying down the thoroughfare. I felt Melody rest a hand on mine next to me, and I shot her a grateful look for the comfort. 

"Relax, hon. Harv's a good one. He ain't gonna rat you out." 

I let out a small, relieved breath. Harv looked intrigued, and Melody turned back to him. "This is my new friend, (Y/N). She just got here from Italy." 

The cabby's eyes met mine in slight surprise. "So you're a dame?" 

I nodded, deciding it was safe enough to take my cap off of my head. I shook my (Y/H/C) locks down from their place piled on top of my cranium. 

"Well I'll be damned! Certainly a waste to hide that pretty face of yours under that old cap." 

Melody rolled her eyes a bit. "She's trying to stop any unwanted attention, Harv. And you're not helping." 

The two continued to bicker back and forth as if an old married couple, and I found their banter entertaining, if I was being honest. As I listened to the two of them, I looked out the window to my right, taking in the sights of the city that sped past. I had never seen so many people in one place before. I was once again reminded of ants, the droves seeming to run over each other in their haste to get to their respective destinations. 

Melody was right in the trip being brief, because in a few minutes we were driving slowly through a very nice neighborhood with large houses and manicured lawns. I was more used to the quieter atmosphere here than in the heart of the city. Harv slowed and came to a stop in front of a two-story house. It had light, weathered brick, a large front porch, and crawling ivy creeping over most every surface. It was beautiful. 

"Alright, we're here," the cabby told my newfound friend and me. 

Looking over at Melody, she was staring at the house with me. "It's gorgeous, (Y/N). I'd give my right arm to live in one of these someday." 

"You don't live around here?" I asked her, putting my cap back on my head and tucking my hair back up into it. 

She shook her head. "I got me a place lower east side. Cramped, but me and the girls make do." She shrugged. "Could always be worse. Could be in a brothel or on the street." 

I blinked at her. "Right. Well, please don't hesitate to call on me sometime. I've really enjoyed your company and am indebted for your help today." 

She smiled at me. "Of course, honey! I'd love to take you out on the town sometime soon! I'll be in touch, doll!" 

I stepped out of the cab, shouldering my satchel and closing the door behind me. With a final wave from Melody and a tip of his head from Harv, they sped away. I watched them shrink into the distance before turning and facing the large, two-story home before me. My heart pounded as I made my way up the steps and to the front door, knocking with the brass knocker on the door. Standing back, I couldn't help but fiddle with my sleeves anxiously. Moments passed, and my worry spiked. As my hope was waning, I heard the bolt in the door slide out of its lock. A woman stood on the other side, eyeing me warily. 

"Can I help you?" 

I recognized her immediately. Even though it had been years since I had seen or spoken to her, I knew that this woman was my Aunt Romelda. She was thinner than Mama had been before she got sick, but she had the same soft brown curls and the same joy-filled eyes. She was in a green dress and her hair up in a neat updo on top of her head. Only a few tendrils of curls fell down by her face as a sort of frame. 

"Oh, yes. I'm not sure if you remember me, but you're my aunt." 

Her brow furrowed as she considered me. Confusion crossed her expression. "I'm afraid I don't have a nephew your age. I think you must be mistaken." 

I shook my head, kicking myself internally for forgetting I was still dressed as a man. I pulled my cap off of my head, hair falling down again. "No, no ma'am. I'm a woman. It's me, (Y/N)." 

My aunt's eyes widened as recognition flashed in them. "(Y/N)? My child, come in, come in!" 

I was ushered inside, looking around me as she locked the door behind us. 

"How in the world did you get here?" she asked me, suddenly worried about what happened and what I had endured. 

"I found a smuggler ship that was willing to take me," I told her, following her into the sitting room. 

She sat in one of the chair across from me as I perched on a sofa. 

"But what about your sisters?" 

My face fell. "I begged them to come with me, but they wouldn't listen. Rosetta resents me, now. Chiara was too scared to leave. So it's only me." 

"But... why? Why did you leave your home to come here?" 

I rubbed my hands anxiously. "Father was going to make me marry a man twice my age with six young girls." My aunt raised a dainty hand up to her mouth in shock. "I knew that was no life. So I made plans to flee." 

"Does your father know?" 

I shrugged. "I assume he probably does, now. I made sure I avoided giving him any suspicion up to the time I departed, though. He thought I was just going into town to buy some food and things that we were out of at home." 

Auntie Romelda gave me a sympathetic look. "I'm so sorry for what you had to go through. Especially after losing your mother." 

I smiled a small, knowing smile. "Yeah. It's been really tough, but I'm making it through. Trying to, at least."

She leaned forward and grasped my hands in hers, giving me an earnest look. "Well, you're here, now. And you're family, dolcezza. Which means this can be your home, too, if you'd like for it to be." 

I smiled a relieved, happy smile back at her. "I'd like that very much."