by Suzanne Hart
I’d had to go away during my pregnancy and once Felix was born. At my wits end, it was Pippa who had called me out of the blue one day, just before Shane left. She told me not to worry, and that she would arrange everything. And she did.
They say money doesn’t buy happiness. I disagree, but I have a lot more of one than the other, usually; so I might be a little biased. But it does buy you the best medical care and privacy when it comes to being a mobster’s daughter in hiding, and having a child out of wedlock. Aunt Pippa was a rock for me during those months. She even had a team of doctors who, apart from helping me have Felix, were open to the idea of keeping the pregnancy a secret.
‘Officially,’ I had a rare and highly contagious virus. I could only speak to my family on the phone, with strictly no visitors. That suited Papa anyway; he wasn’t one for traveling across the country, not even for business, and not unless he really had to.
I traveled back to see Aunt Pippa whenever I could. As Felix grew up, it tore me apart not being there. It was also the one place I knew my father wouldn’t mind me going. I had the hunch that going there right then might just save my life. And so I went.
Twelve
Mikey
Seeing Gray’s crotch as he squatted on his hams in front of me on the floor wasn’t the first thing I wanted to see. The room was still spinning, but at half the speed it did the last time I’d opened my eyes.
Was Natalia here? Nah, I must have dreamt that. I can smell her though.
“Mr. Leone. Mikey!” Gray’s voice was impatient, gruff.
I had the feeling he’d been squatted there a while trying to rouse me. I half sat up, holding my arms back to hold myself up.
“Drink this. Then take these.” A fizzy green glass followed by some little white pills. I felt like throwing it all up again, but within five minutes I was up again.
“What was in those pills, Gray? I feel terrific!” I was bouncy again, I loved it. No hangover, just straight back on the bus. It was just how I liked it.
“Never mind that,” Gray mumbled. “Your father wants to see you. Now!” His tone and look said it all; it brought me down a little. I was trying to arrange my thoughts. Then it all came back to me in a second. I was going to get sick. I ran for the bathroom. Gray rolled his eyes.
The ride to see my father gave me some time to arrange in my mind what had happened. My first thought was of the money. That was gone. Bernardi had decided, in his generosity, to hang onto it. It was his anyway, I guessed.
The second, most devastating memory was that Natalia had visited me. She really had. Gray was saying nothing, but I could tell he was lying when I asked him about her. If she had taken that sort of a risk, just to see me… my mind reeled. It was a death sentence if she was caught. But yes, she’d been there. I felt like a total asshole for having her see me in that state. I hoped I didn’t snore. Apparently I always snored when I got drunk like that.
Finally, Gray broke the torturous silence. He was old school, but he was also a blabbermouth. It was probably why he always got babysitting duty. He was good, but not that good. Not for the Leone’s anyway.
“That broad,” he started. “She’s trouble. I don’t know what you did, but I would advise you to never see that woman again, Mr. Leone. She looked like a whole lot of trouble.” He adjusted the sunglasses on his face and left it at that. I appreciated his warning, but hardly needed the reminder.
My cell pinged. Sneaking a glance, it was from Bernardi. One of his men, anyway. Mr. B. cordially invites you to cocktails and canapés. Same time and address as before. Bring something white, it’s traditional.
It was the worst coded message I’d ever seen. It was also something I didn’t even want to think about right at that moment. I was on the way to have my father interrogate me, I knew it. He always did it this way. I’d screw up and he’d have me brought to him, sat in a chair like a prisoner. He’d just sit there staring at me until I told him everything. Then he’d sigh, leave the room and my life would suck for at least twelve months, or maybe more. This was different though, I knew it was.
How could he possibly know?
I’d resolved on the spot, when I was sat in front of Bernardi, to ditch Natalia in favor of the huge amount of cash he would pay for the coke. I shouldn’t have believed a word he’d said, but I did. Something in his eyes let me know he was prepared to spend an awful lot to make the embarrassing truth about a Leone and his daughter disappear, and in a way that wouldn’t get anyone hurt or draw attention to the fact.
As the car pulled closer to the Leone estate, my mind turned over the jewel that was Natalia. Again and again, I went through how it had felt to be with her, to be inside her, then compared it to the amount of money on offer to just walk away.
She’d risked her life to come and see you. Nobody else would do that, not even your own father would do that.
Then my mind drifted to my sister, Mia. I knew that she felt something was up too. I reconsidered, I knew she’d risk more than her life to save me. If she knew how. I wish I knew how to save me sometimes. Almost as soon as I had the thought, she called. I let it go to messages. I couldn’t have managed to deal with hearing her voice right at that moment. My mind was soup from the booze and coke cocktail I’d had earlier that day. And those fucking cigars, Jesus! I never smoked one again after that night.
I’ll call you soon, Mia, I promise. I could use a friendly ear after what’s coming to me.
It was as predicted. I was escorted and flanked by guards to my father’s study, a huge ancient library in the old house which he had converted into his command center. I felt my own bile rising as we drew closer to the huge oak doors, and not from what was about to happen. It was those fucking cigars again. God! I couldn’t stand it.
The doors silently swung inward as we approached. It sometimes occurred to me to wonder if my family planned the dramatic elements into their everyday life, or did they just happen spontaneously? A sort of flow-on effect from the very nature of their business.
I sat in the leather-lined chair in front of my father’s desk. His chair had his back facing me. Once the other men had left the room, and enough time had passed for me to feel uncomfortable, he slowly turned around. His eyes were calm, peaceful. His look was almost benevolent. That’s what scared me most, when he looked kind and friendly.
He held my eyes in his. I could see him reminiscing about when I was a boy, then saw again another shift in his mood, and it always invariably turned to Mia. His golden child. If only she had been born a boy. He may as well have shouted it out loud at that moment. I shifted in my seat, the leather creaking and distracting his reverie.
He looked up to the huge vaulted ceiling as he inhaled through his nose, then sighed as he exhaled. Smiling to himself while shaking his head gently. Then he turned. His look, at once, became black, like he was ready to reach over his desk and kill me with his bare hands.
“Speak.” That was the only word he said. His eyes said the rest. I had to look away; I had to tell him something. Something true. He knew my lies, all of them, off by heart now. I’d told so many over the years, I forgot some of them, but Papa; he remembered everything.
I cleared my throat, startling myself as the echo pounded back into my ears, as if I was in a porcelain vacuum.
“I, uh. I messed up, Papa. I went to a club and I took a drug and I got very, very drunk. Then I missed work. I disappointed myself today. I know I let you down I…” The hand was already up. It was useless. I resorted to silence. I hung my head, resolving to just accept whatever came next. For once in a long time, even I was sick of my own bullshit.
The sound of my own breathing was all I heard. My mind was just taking me somewhere else when his voice shook me, scaring me; like a crack of thunder from a storm when I was a child.
“Tell me about the girl, Mikey. I know everything. I just want to hear the words from your mouth. Say it. Speak!” His voice had taken on a new element. Thicker, like a coating had muted his ori
ginal anger and replaced it with another kind of rage. He sounded sick when I thought about it later.
I had no idea if he knew or not. My father was an expert at interrogation. He knew how to trip people up by letting them tell their own story. My best defense was ignorance, which was kind of true. Everything that had happened, I wished I could forget, and to pretend I had no memory of it, so I went with that angle.
Bad idea.
After I pleaded ignorance, too drunk to remember, there was no girl, blah, blah, blah, he grew to an enormous size for a moment, rising up out of his chair like the devil himself. My own heart faltered, then raced as I saw him turn a shade of purple as he crushed a whole handful of his prized cigars in front of his eyes before screaming at me.
“Liar! Bugiardo!” He shook with rage.
I feared more for his own safety as he didn’t seem to draw breath. He just stood there, convulsing, clutching the fragments of cigars in his pale hands until he turned a shade of blue. He collapsed back into his seat, his whole head pitching forward. He pushed a button under his desk and a man in a white coat appeared.
Scowling at me, the man loosened Papa’s shirt and gave him a shot of something in his arm. Papa shooed him away after a few moments before resuming his gaze on my shocked face. His eyes seemed empty now. Spent from rage. It was over, I knew I wouldn’t be killed, but I was no longer a Leone. For maybe the tenth time in my life, he was disowning me. This time it felt different though. I knew it was the end of my life the way I had known it before.
He slowly turned his chair around again, facing the window behind his desk, looking out over a hedge maze and a wooded area beyond. The doors swung silently again, I could feel the change in air temperature. I was flanked by the same men and I stood to leave. Before we reached the door, my father called out after me.
“A Bernardi boy is in a coma right now, beaten half to death for them taking my only son against his will. My question now is, was it against his will, or did he go willingly?”
It was a rhetorical question, but one that answered more than it was asking for me. He knew, he fucking knew! But how?
I was glad to have switched my phone off before going into the house. Bernardi himself had left a voice message. He wanted to go ahead with the deal, that night. Mia hadn’t left a message, which was odd.
There was a single text as well, from Natalia: Goodbye.
I knew it was from her. It couldn’t have been anyone else. The phone shook in my hands as I fought to put it back into my pant pocket. I was having a very bad day so far, with plenty of it left to get much worse.
I’d been responsible for the beating, and may as well be dead for the reprisal on a Bernardi, all because they took me for a ride. As it turned out, it was as my father had predicted. I went willingly, especially once I knew I could have a ton of cash. All I had to do was sell out my family and the woman I knew, right at that moment; that I loved with all my heart.
Thirteen
Natalia
I didn’t see my father before leaving. I only went back to the house to get what I needed for the trip, then straight to the airport. Franco made sure he put himself between me and the waiting car before I could go.
“Ms. Bernardi, before you go, there’s been some news.” His eyes narrowed and he gave a dramatic pause for effect. It worked.
“Yes?!” I asked impatiently, eager to get away before having to see my father, but I couldn’t be left hanging if something had happened.
“It’s Nathan, your brother. He’s in the hospital. A Leone payback, we think. Just so you know. It’s not looking good. He’s in an induced coma.” He made sure to deliver the news and move past me before I could respond. I got into the car quickly. As it pulled away the impact of what Franco had said sunk in.
This is your fault, it’s all your doing.
My family and I, my brothers especially; we weren’t terribly close. It was a shock though and I felt an obligation to stay on the one hand, for the sake of appearances. On the other, I was potentially running for my life. If things went bad, which it looked like they were, being at that house was the most dangerous place for me. My father knew I was traveling to L.A., but had made no efforts to keep me at the house. If there was a war over this business between the families, it made sense to be out of the city, and out of the state was even better.
I tried several times to generate an emotional reaction to the news about my brother on the flight to L.A., but my mind just kept gravitating to Felix, my son. I cared about my brother, but I figured if you played with fire you would be burnt. We all knew that deep down; just sometimes we had reminders that there was a very real price to pay for the lifestyle we were able to lead. I had vowed to never allow my son to be exposed to my family’s influence for that very reason.
Apart from the usual awkward questions about why I had to go away again each time I saw him, Felix was a happy-go-lucky, very intelligent kid. He had his father’s good looks and height, a good thing, because he would never pass for a Bernardi, not with those feet and that hair.
After Felix, Mikey was the heaviest in my thoughts. I was so angry that I couldn’t shake him from my mind. If I hadn’t gone to the club, if I hadn’t gone over to him when he looked at me in that way. It was a whole series of ‘If I hadn’t’ scenarios which were piling up inside of me, compounding my guilt, but also making me miss him at the same time. I didn’t want to miss him, I wanted to forget him and move on with my life. Something told me that wasn’t about to just happen though, and I resented it.
First class was practically empty, which was a good thing because I didn’t feel like small talk and the cabin crew were quick enough to pick up on that. You get what you pay for and right then I wanted to be left alone. I was alone with my thoughts until touching down. The shapes of the few others from first class moved ahead of me, as if I was a ghost in the world.
“Mommy! Mommy!” I was jolted from my waking dream, I thought it was Felix, but another passenger was being greeted by her family.
I scanned the waiting crowd and there he was, my Felix. Aunt Pippa hugged his neck from behind, holding him back from the small crowd of people which had begun to flow from the arrival gates. They were happy to see me, and it was always like looking into his father’s eyes when I saw Felix. But there was something else that day, something strained in the way both he and my aunt were smiling as they saw me.
For a split second, while I was hugging Felix, saying hello between my tears of joy to see him again, I imagined that Mikey was with us. That we were a different kind of family. I hugged both Felix and Pippa so tight, still sensing there was something between them that they had yet to tell me. I planned to stay for a while, so whatever it was could wait. I had to spoil my son rotten first. The world could wait.
I only had some carry-on luggage, and the house in L.A. was prepared for my frequent visits, with everything I really needed. We played normal, affluent people when I was in town. There were no limos or penthouse suites, but the house was nice and I made sure Pippa had the best of everything for herself and of course for Felix.
After some retail therapy and the dinner of choice a la Felix, we headed back to the house. The drive back was strangely quiet, with both Felix and Pippa not being their usual, upbeat selves.
“Okay!” I said suddenly. “Let’s have it, there’s something going on that you guys aren’t sharing, let’s hear it.” They both looked a little sheepish, but Felix spoke up first.
“It’s nothing really, Mom, just some doctor stuff. I’ll be fine.” I felt the pit of my stomach contract, like it was getting some work out that past few days. I shot a glance to Pippa in the rearview, and she was frowning and shaking her head gently.
“I’m sorry, Natalia, I really am. I should’ve said something. I just didn’t want you to worry.” My eyes said it all, and she obliged me with the full story.
Felix had been having some pain in his back, and after a few days they’d gone to the doctors, this was only
in the few days before my visit, so I didn’t feel they had held anything much back. Kids got sick and I wasn’t one to fuss or baby Felix. I trusted Pip’s judgment without question.
“And?” I found myself sounding a little sharper than I’d intended, I cleared my throat, rephrasing my concern. “So, what was the verdict? Nothing too serious I expect?” Again, they both looked down, and Felix went red and looked like he might cry.
Back at the house I had the full story, and it bowled me over after recent events. Felix would need more tests to be sure, but it looked very much like one of his kidneys was failing. I tried to be strong, for Felix, but I took it badly and cried. A lot, making a scene and probably making Felix feel worse than he already did.
After a long cry and lots of hugs, Felix was worn out and we put him to bed without a fuss. Pippa and I stayed up, she brought out some cognac and we stayed up, talking it over a little more calmly. Felix was due for some more tests the next day, which I eagerly agreed to take him to.
“He’ll be fine, Natalia. I know it will work out. I was going to tell you once you got here, but I couldn’t do it over the phone.” Pippa was a rock and I knew she wouldn’t have held out on me for a minute more than she’d had to.
“Thank you,” I blubbed, tearing up again. “Thank you for everything. I wanted to tell her about Mikey, about Nathan, about everything, but I knew she had enough to deal with just Felix, so I let it go for the time being.
Pippa wanted to come along to the appointment, but understood that I wanted to spend some time alone with Felix. It was an hour’s drive and we made up for a little of the time we’d been apart. It was never the same though, and the fleeting thought of a family with Mikey as dad and me as mom kept creeping into my thoughts, despite my best efforts to focus on the road and what Felix was telling me about his school and the goings-on in the neighborhood.