Sweetest Sorrow

by J. M. Darhower

  "Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa!" Gavin jumped up, sliding in front of Matty's chair when Dante came at him, hands clenched. "You start fighting and you'll both get thrown out of here, and then I'll be the only one who gets to see the baby, and while I'm not going to lose any sleep over that fact, I'm pretty sure Genna wouldn't forgive either of you assholes for it."

  "Is there a problem here?" a stern voice asked, approaching them. Matty looked around Gavin, seeing an older man in a blue uniform behind Dante. Security. No gun on him, just pepper spray clipped to his belt, not enough force to stop someone like Dante but certainly enough to piss him off more.

  "No problem," Dante said, his tone clipped. "Except that this hospital is bullshit."

  "Everything's fine," Gavin said, smiling as he addressed the security guard. "This one's just getting a little impatient. He's going to take a seat and shut up now, though… isn't he?"

  Gavin glared at Dante, who just shrugged as he sat back down. Security eyed him warily before strolling over to the side of the room, leaning against the wall to keep an eye on them.

  "We're going to have to find some constructive way for you two to work this shit out," Gavin said, retaking his seat. "A boxing ring. Paintball. Couple's therapy. Something."

  "There's nothing to work out," Matty said.

  Dante motioned to Matty. "What he said."

  "Well, that's a start," Gavin said. "You're agreeing on something. I mean, you're agreeing that you hate each other, but that's something, so… keep up the good work."

  It took a minute at most before Dante was back out of his seat, and a minute after that Gabriella resurfaced. Matty stared at her as his heart hammered in his chest. He'd tried damn hard to keep calm the hour or so they sat there, waiting, but every second that passed without news was more opportunity for complications.

  Dante stopped pacing as Gabriella approached him.

  "You just don't listen, do you?" she asked, shaking her head.

  "You wouldn't love me if I did," he responded. "Did you find out anything?"

  "She's in recovery," Gabriella said. "They're moving her to a room."

  "And she's okay?" Dante asked.

  "She's fine," Gabriella confirmed. "The baby, too."

  Matty closed his eyes, exhaling at those words. He felt like he'd been holding his breath for an entire goddamn hour.

  "Nobody would give me more than that," Gabriella said, turning to Matty with a frown. "They wouldn't even tell me what she had."

  "It's a boy," Gavin chimed in, slapping Matty on the back. "Baby boy Barsanti."

  Dante groaned, running his hands down his face as he dropped back into the chair. Up and down, up and down, like a damn teeter-totter.

  "How do you know?" Gabriella asked suspiciously, looking at Gavin.

  "Matty-B told me," Gavin said. "He knew what they were having."

  Gabriella shot Matty a look before turning to Dante.

  "Don't look at me," Dante muttered. "Nobody tells me shit."

  Gabriella scowled, kicking his shin, before turning back to Matty. "So, a son, huh?"

  "Yeah," he whispered. "A son."

  He had a son.

  Twenty minutes. Twenty more agonizing minutes before someone appeared in the waiting room to address Matty, to tell him Genna and the baby were both safe and sound in a room down the hall. 212. The second those words came from someone's lips, Matty was out of his chair.

  "About fucking time," Dante grumbled, trying to stand up, but Gabriella blocked him.

  "We should let Matty go first, you know, to see them," she said. "Give him a minute."

  "He's got one minute."

  "Thirty minutes," Gabriella argued, "at least."

  "Fifteen," Dante countered, "at most."

  Matty didn't hang around to hear the rest of that conversation, wasting not a second longer. Room 212. The number rang through his mind as he raced down the hallway, breaking out into a sprint. 212. 212. 212. He skidded to a stop when he saw it etched on a panel outside a closed tan door. 212. He didn't bother knocking, his leftover patience still somewhere back in that waiting room. He thrust the door open, bursting inside, and came to a dead stop as soon as he did.

  Genna sat in the propped-up hospital bed, hair an utter mess, hospital gown askew. Her face was ashen, but the smile on her lips… the smile made her glow. Her eyes were fixed downward, to the small bundle cradled in her arms, wrapped up in a white blanket trimmed with pink and blue. So much warmth radiated from her, so much love, that it lit up the entire room. Nurses moved around her, checking vitals and tinkering with machines, but Matty paid them no attention.

  His eyes were only for her.

  Growing up, Matty never wanted children of his own. He never even imagined a reality where he'd bring one into existence. His world had been destroyed when he was just a kid, ripped to pieces by the life he'd been born into, a life he never asked for. But in that life, the one his father had brought children into… the life Genna, too, had been given… you didn't get a choice in the matter. The moment you took your first breath, you became a part of it, and nothing short of death would help you escape. He'd tried, so many times, and each time, something drew him right back in. Because the life didn't give up on you, and it wouldn't let you give up on it, either. There was no live and let live in their world… it had been kill or be killed. His best friend lost his life, and so many times… so many fucking times… Matty wished he'd been the one to die instead.

  And that, he knew, was no kind of life for a child. He wouldn't have wished those feelings on his worst enemy. He hadn't wished them on his worst enemy. Because according to the life, the one he'd been forced into, his worst enemy sat in front of him, cradling a baby he never knew he wanted until it became his reality.

  Now, standing there, he couldn't imagine a world without them.

  "Daddy's here," Genna whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear, before her gaze lifted, meeting his across the room. "He looks like he's three seconds away from a trip to the psych ward, but he's here."

  Matty stood frozen, in utter silence, until the nurses walked out and left them alone. Slowly, he approached, stepping closer to the bed, as he glanced down into Genna's arms, at the little boy he knew he couldn't live without now. A little boy he'd protect for the rest of his life, a little boy he'd fight to save from the world he'd grown up in.

  Dark, thick hair and tanned skin, soft, round cheeks with just a hint of pink. He looked nothing like his mother and everything like Matty. It was like staring at a baby picture of himself. Surreal. The baby was fast asleep, his mouth open just a bit as he breathed through it.

  "My brother?" Genna asked.

  "He's in the waiting room, blessing everyone with his charming personality."

  Genna sighed. "Thank God he's okay."

  Choosing to keep his opinion to himself, Matty reached down, running his fingertips along a warm, flushed cheek, the touch making the baby stir a bit. "Can I hold him?"

  "Of course, you big dolt. He's yours. He looks just like you."

  Matty picked him up, careful not to wake him, and gazed into his face as he cradled him in his arms. "Strong genes."

  "Annoying genes," Genna remarked.

  Matty laughed lightly as he sat down on the edge of the hospital bed beside her, not wanting to move from her side. "Hey, you chose to breed with me."

  "Breed with you," she said. "Is that what we did? Breeded?"

  "The word you want is actually 'bred'."

  "Ah, there's that Ivy League education kicking back in. Did you learn how to change diapers at Princeton, by chance?"

  "I'm afraid not. Must've missed the day they taught us that in my Behavioral Economics Workshop."

  "Ugh, just hearing those words almost put me to sleep." Genna laid her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes. "Most boring degree ever, Matty."

  "It's not meant to be exciting," he said. "It's lucrative."

  "Yeah, it certainly came in handy at the diner when you
were whipping up omelets, huh? Oh, you want those eggs with a side of behavioral economics? Coming right up!"

  He grinned at her sleepy tone. She could've told him she hated him and he would've smiled right through it, knowing she was so far out of it she might not remember a single word, much less mean it. "It came in handy when figuring out why you were blowing so much money fixing a car that wasn't yours."

  "Oh, yeah? And why did I?"

  "Because you needed to prove to yourself that you could," he said. "You were pregnant, and scared, and your life had been ripped away from you. You needed to know that you could fix something, that you could make something whole again, that you could make it beautiful, because you were going to be a mother and you needed to know that you were capable of taking care of something."

  Complete silence surround them as Matty gazed only at the baby before Genna's soft voice responded, "Score one for Matty-B."

  Shifting around, he looked at her… really looked at her. "You're going to be a great mother, Genevieve. Don't even worry. You're ready."

  She smiled softly, watching him. "I'm only ready because of you, Daddy Matty."

  Time passed, minutes melting away as they sat there, savoring the moment.

  After exactly thirty minutes, there was a soft knock on the door and the others filtered in. Gavin grinned as he approached, his eyes on Genna. "Looking beautiful as ever, Genna with a G. You're glowing."

  "Screw you."

  Gavin laughed. "That was a compliment."

  "I know," she said. "Screw you for being nice to me again. I don't like it."

  Gavin stopped beside Matty, looking down at the baby. "Would you look at that? He's a mini Matty-B."

  "My fault," Genna said, lazily lifting her hand, tugging on the IVs connected to it. "I bred with him, apparently. Should've figured those selfish Barsanti people had greedy DNA."

  Matty laughed, offering the baby to his cousin. "You want to hold him?"

  "Oh, hell no," Gavin said, backing away quickly. "I'm not touching that thing. If I break it, the Ice Princess will kill me."

  Gabriella approached, shoving Gavin out of the way to take a peak, her expression lighting up. "Oh my goodness, look how precious he is!"

  "Do you want to hold him? Or are you afraid of breaking him, too?"

  "Oh, pfft, please." Gabriella took the baby from him, no hesitation. "I'm afraid of no human, not even the tiniest ones. I did a stint in Labor & Delivery once."

  "Oh God, does that mean you know how to change a diaper?" Genna asked. "Because Matty's professor forgot to show him and my parents forgot I was human so I kind of lack most domestic skills."

  "Of course," Gabriella said, laughing as she turned to Genna. "I'm also certified in infant CPR, so if you ever need a babysitter, I'm your gal."

  "You, lady, are a fucking Saint." Genna's gaze scanned the room before settling over to the doorway, where Dante lurked. He just stood there, in silence, watching Gabriella. "What did I tell you, brother? Call the Pope. We've got us a winner here. You need to wife that up."

  Dante turned to Genna, eyes narrowing. "Are you high?"

  Everyone laughed, including Genna, who pointed at a bag of fluid connected to her IV. "Morphine."

  Dante blinked a few times before turning back to Gabriella.

  "I told you," Gabriella said, grinning as she approached him, like she knew he hadn't planned to come any closer. "That's what you get for being so stubborn."

  "Family trait," Genna said, slapping Matty's back. "Isn't that right?"

  "Definitely one of your many fine qualities," Matty said, leaning in to kiss her, but she covered her mouth.

  "Ugh, gross, my mouth is all fuzzy."

  Matty pulled her hand away, kissing her regardless.

  "Side effect of the anesthesia," Gabriella said. "Maybe the morphine, too."

  "I like the morphine," Genna said. "It makes me all floaty."

  Her eyes closed, a grin still on her lips.

  "So precious," Gabriella murmured, stopping in front of Dante, standing toe-to-toe. "Look at your sweet nephew, Uncle Dante."

  Dante stared down at him in total silence.

  "Did you want to hold him?" Gabriella asked quietly.

  Dante shook his head.

  "Hold my baby, Dante," Genna ordered without opening her eyes. "Don't make me get out of this bed and force him on you."

  "Don't go getting your panties all twisted," Dante muttered, carefully taking the baby from Gabriella. "I'm holding him."

  "Him," Gavin said. "Does he have a name?"

  "We haven't really talked about it," Matty said. "We know what we're not calling him."

  "Primo?" Gavin guessed. "Roberto?"

  Genna waved his direction. "Ding ding."

  "Gavin's a great name," Gavin said. "Means white hawk, which is perfect, you know. I'm white, kind of... Italian is white, right?"

  "Italians are Italian, dipshit," Genna said. "White is a color, and you're looking more like a latte than a carton of milk over there."

  "I'm a hawk, though."

  "I'm not naming my son Gavin."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I know a Gavin and he's a pain in the ass."

  "Whatever," Gavin said. "Go ahead and name him something sissy, like Dante. I'm sure he'll grow up to be a real winner."

  "I'm not taking that bait," Dante said. "Not worth it."

  "I like a couple names," Genna said. "I've kind of been digging the name Corrado."

  Gavin paled. "Like in Moretti?"

  "Yeah, why not?" Genna shrugged. "Makes me think of a sweet little boy who likes Batman and reading."

  "Or," Gavin said, "a not-so-sweet grown guy who likes shooting people and scaring the day lights out of everyone."

  "Yeah, I don't think that's a good idea," Dante said. "Just... trust me on that. You'd be better off naming the kid Enzo."

  Matty's back stiffened at the sound of that name on those lips. Enzo.

  "Not that I'm suggesting it," Dante continued, handing the baby back to Gabriella. "I'm just saying, if you name him after someone, make it someone a bit more innocent."

  Matty looked at Genna. They stared at each other in silence for a moment before a name seemed to click in his head. He saw it, too, as Genna's eyes widened.

  "Joseph?" he suggested.

  Genna smiled. "Joey."

  Joey.

  "Nice," Gavin said. "Now hit us with the last name."

  Gabriella passed the still sleeping baby back to his mother.

  "Do we have to give him a last name?" Genna asked. "Can't we Sonny & Cher that shit?"

  "Why don't you hyphenate it?" Gabriella suggested. "Galante-Barsanti. He's both of you, both of those families. And separate, okay, you guys were kind of despicable, but maybe put together something good can come out of it."

  "Joseph Galante-Barsanti," Genna mused, smiling down at the baby. "I can tolerate that."

  Matty stared at them, feeling every inch of him warming, as he smiled. "So can I."

  Epilogue

  The air was comfortable, not a cloud in sight, as the vibrant sun lit up the bright blue sky. Peculiarly warm for a March afternoon, spring still a few days away, yet everything seemed to already want to bloom. The first inkling of it shone on the branches of the trees scattered all around, the subtle pops of green brewing as leaves started to grow. It had been a harsh winter, a fact that had nothing to do with snow. Harsh, because of the bitterness that had seized the city, because of the hurt it had caused, because of the blood that had been spilled.

  A do-over, Gavin had once asked for. To Dante Galante, it almost felt like a rebirth—an ironic sensation, he thought, to feel at a funeral.

  "Dad's going to haunt us for this, isn't he?" Genna asked, her incredulous voice low so not to interrupt the priest. "Like, he's seriously going to go all Poltergeist on our asses."

  "Probably," Dante said, shrugging it off, because as far as he was concerned, his father's final wishes were irrelevant. They'd spent
their entire lives doing the man's bidding, following his orders, putting their own needs second, and Dante refused to spend another moment of his life bowing down to Primo Galante.

  The son of a bitch could haunt him if he wanted.

  A joint funeral for former friends turned mortal enemies, men dead set on destroying each other facing the end together. Johnny Amaro had suggested it, a symbolic gesture putting the feud to rest once and for all.

  Hundreds amassed together, a lot more than Dante had expected to come, although he suspected most weren't there to pay their respects. No, they just wanted to see the bastards put in the ground. He didn't blame them for it, but no one would get to see that part. The services were taking place on a grassy knoll along the edge of the cemetery, away from both of the families' plots, away from the wives and the sons who had lost their lives, allowing them the peace in death that life hadn't offered.

  Two identical gold-toned caskets, indistinguishable, were set up in front of them, both sealed, so nobody standing there knew who was in which one, and Dante was grateful for it, because he didn't want to know. Afterward, after the crowd had gone home, they would be moved to their proper place, quietly buried with their families, but until then, it wasn't about them. No, it was about the ones they'd left behind, the ones who had survived, the ones who had suffered most at their hands.

  Their children.

  Dante and Matteo stood front and center of the crowd with Genna between them, a human barrier separating the two of them, as she rocked baby Joey in her arms, trying to get him to stay calm. He whimpered and whined, letting out loud cries, but Dante didn't mind. He didn't blame the kid. Hell, he'd rather have not been there, either.

  "Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them," the priest said, making the sign of the cross over each casket. "May they rest in peace."

  A chorus of "Amen" flowed through the crowd before people started to disperse, a hoard heading right for the three of them. Dante sensed it, felt it coming on like a suffocating storm, and maybe it was wrong, leaving them to fend for themselves, but he couldn't stand there another moment and pretend.