by J. J. McAvoy
“It won’t be for long, I promise,” I said to them. Well, it depended on their definition of long. “Just follow everyone downstairs—”
“Calliope?”
Turning around, I came face to face with a woman with messy bangs, straight brown hair, and dull brown eyes, dressed in a cream-colored turtle neck, beige slacks, and a large wool coat of the same color, around her neck a familiar golden cross and blessed mother necklace. She stared at me wide-eyed, shock clear on her face. I hadn’t planned to meet her again like this. She wasn’t supposed to be in the states for another few weeks. However, seeing as how my grandfather wasn’t here, it was clear he knew she was back and was avoiding her as well.
“Isn’t she…” Ethan voiced trailed off.
I nodded, knowing what he wanted to ask and looked at the woman before me, “Hello, Mother.”
“Mother?” I heard Wyatt whisper behind me.
“Mommy?” Gigi tugged my hand. “Who’s that?”
I bent down in front of her, adjusting her coat. “That’s Mommy’s mommy. Remember, I told you her name is Camilla.”
“Oh, hi—” She tried to say, but I tugged her back to me.
“Sweetheart, Camilla doesn’t like us, so we can’t go close to her.”
“But she’s your mommy,” she said.
I cupped her cheek. “Remember what I said? Not all mommies are good mommies. Now go with Daddy while I speak to her.”
Gigi shook her head. Her bottom lip poked out. “I stay, Mommy.”
“If you stay with me, who’s going to help Papa?” I asked her.
Her face fell as she looked between Ethan and I. However, when she looked back at me, her little face was stern. “I stay, Mommy.”
It was only three words, but it made my heart quake. Gigi couldn’t wait to see Ethan; having her Papa was all she wanted, every morning she woke up she looked to make sure he was still there. And yet, when posed with staying with him or me, she chose to stay with me. Leaning over, I lifted her into my arms and kissed her cheeks. “Five minutes. I’ll be with you and Papa in five minutes.”
She made a face, but I had already handed her off to Ethan before she could argue. He didn’t say a word or even look at my mother. He walked off with Gigi, and the rest of them followed.
“It’s really true,” she whispered when they were gone, and I turned back to her. “You’re home...and with Ethan Callahan?”
I stared as she shook and hung her head.
“Calliope...how? You know what those people—”
“Twenty years,” I interrupted her, stepping from the pews into the center aisle toward her. “It’s been twenty years since we’ve spoken, Mother. And the first thing you think to say is It’s really true and Calliope...how?”
Her brown eyes widened in surprise. “You’re right. It’s been a long time. How are you?”
“Well, now that you are not beating me with cable cords, pretty good, I guess.” I laughed, but, she did not find it as humorous.
Instead, her hands trembled, her face bunched up in pain, and I assumed she also remembered our past. “Calliope…I…I…”
“You’re sorry?” I finished for her.
“Yes. So sorry—”
“I don’t forgive you,” I answered, and she lifted her head to meet my gaze again. The shock in it was also funny, but I didn’t laugh. And it took her a second to collect herself. I allowed her to do so.
“Right. Of course. It was…I was…I was sick, Calliope. But I’m different now—”
“I do not care, Mother,” I replied, stepping closer to her. Reaching up, I brushed her bangs from her face. “I also do not like this hairstyle on you.”
She snickered. “Bellarosa did it for me.”
“That explains that. Bellarosa does not really have the best taste,” I replied with a laugh, dropping my hand, but she grabbed it, holding it in place.
Her eyes shined with hope and joy. “You don’t have to forgive me. I understand. But at least give me a chance to make up for so much lost time. You can come home. We can have dinner, catch up—”
“I am all caught up, Mother,” I cut in. “Over the years, I’ve heard so much about you. How gracious you are. How big your heart is. How devoted to the faith you are. Always at church, always ready to help despite being such a socialite. You go to Mass on Saturday and Sunday and host a women’s fellowship group.” I giggled, shaking my head. “Camilla Affini, the patron saint of good works.”
“It’s my faith that saved me. It’s the reason why I’m different now.”
“Is it? That’s nice. Do you know what first comes to mind when I see a cross?” I glanced over my shoulder, where at the altar, a golden cross now stood, directly under the mural of Christ. “I remember how you took the wooden cross off the wall and threw it at my skull. I still have a dent there—”
“Calliope!”
At her raised voice, my eyes widened. “Yes?”
Shaking, she shook her head. “Let’s not rehash the past here. Let—”
“Why?” I glanced around at the now-empty church. “What better place to face your sins than in church?”
“I’ve already done that—”
“No, Camilla, you have hidden and cloaked yourself in fake benevolence,” I replied. “I would ask you who you think you are fooling, but the answer is as clear as it has always been. You are fooling yourself.”
“I—”
“No,” I held up my finger to silence her. “I interrupt you; you do not interrupt me. Why? Because whatever forgiveness you think you have gotten from God, you have not gotten from me. And I am what counts here. So, get on your knees.”
“W—What?” She gasped, her mouth agape. “You can’t be serious.”
“Dino, Italo, please help my mother see how serious I am,” I called out.
Not a second later, they came from the ambry, the niche in the wall behind the altar; that the church used for storage. Struggling in Dino’s arms was Avena, her short black hair a scattered mess, her feet bare, and face pale. In her mouth was what looked to be a sock. She was still in her nightgown from the night before. While in Italo’s hands, Bellarosa was in a mini dress, her box-blond, platinum hair was black at the root, her makeup was smeared as tears came from her brown eyes, and even from here, I could smell the alcohol coming off her. I wondered what club he had picked her sorry ass up from.
“Calliope! What is this?” my mother screamed as she moved to run toward them, but I stepped in her path.
“Didn’t I just explain? I do not forgive you, Camilla. So, get on your knees and beg!” I sneered.
Her eyes looked at me and then back to my sisters, then to me. “Calliope—”
“A woman of faith like you must know about penance, right? Well, here we are. You can kneel and beg, or you can say goodbye to your daughters—”
“Calliope, they are your sisters! You wouldn’t hurt them.”
I laughed. “Oh, I would. And you shouldn’t be surprised. If a mother can harm her child, that child can harm their siblings…especially if it’s a half-sibling.”
She still did not kneel.
“Italo, bash Bellarosa’s head in with that cross!” I hollered so loudly, my voice echoed throughout the church.
The moment he reached for the cross, Bellarosa begin to scream against her gag, and my mother dropped to her knees.
“Stop!” she screamed, begging.
“I knew Bellarosa was your favorite,” I chuckled.
Her eyes began to fill with tears as she peered up at me. “What…what do you want?”
“I’ve said it very clearly. Beg me.”
“Calliope, I already said I am sorry—”
“You said you were sorry? Well, golly, I guess that’s it?” I shrugged. “Sorry. Sorry I nearly killed you every day of your life—”
“Calliope!”
“I told you not to interrupt me!” I snapped.
She just shook her head. “Calliope, I know you are in pain.
I caused that pain. But don’t do this. Don’t act like a low-life thug. Like a Callahan—”
“But I am.”
“No! You are better than this—”
“You did not raise me!” I grabbed her throat. “So, you do not know what I am better than.”
“Calliope… Heaven…has eyes…”
“And heaven watched as you drowned me over and over again. As you broke almost every bone in my little body. As you tortured and humiliated me. Camilla, I learned a long time ago that heaven may have eyes but no hands. That’s why all the angels only weep and are never able to save little girls when they beg for help.”
Squeezing tighter, the tears that pooled from her eyes fell. “Calliope…I’m sorry.”
“No. But you will be,” I replied, letting her go. “You will kneel here, Mother, until I tell you to get up. Unfortunately, I am not as devout as you are, and I won’t be here again until next Sunday.”
“Calliope…I can’t.”
“But you have to, Camilla,” I cupped her face. “If not, every last scar you have given to me, I will give them tenfold.” I stepped to the side for her to see Avena and Bellarosa. “Don’t worry, they will be here chained up in the back, waiting for your penance to be over. Part of me really hopes you do get up, though, so you can see exactly how thuggish I can be.”
Spinning on my heels, I turned back to my sisters and the men holding them captive. I waved at them.
“Guhm!” “Mrugh!” They both screamed or cursed at me, but the cloth in their mouths muffled the words.
“I know, long time no see. Sorry, I can’t stay around to chat. But don’t worry, now that I’m back, we’re all going to get along.” I smiled and nodded for them to be removed.
Because they were still hollering and kicking, my men knocked them out.
“Bye, Mom, see you next week.”
“A week? You want me to kneel here for a week?” she called out.
“No,” I whispered. “I want you to kneel there until your knees bleed, until your hair turns gray, and until God himself comes and helps you up from the ground. But then you’d die, so I came up with this compromise—”
“Calliope, that is not possible! People will see, and—”
“If you get hungry? Don’t worry, someone will bring you a body of Christ to eat. If you need to shit, well shit yourself—”
“Calliope!”
“Too hard?” I snickered as I walked to the doors. “Funny, how did I manage? Oh well, we will see what choice you make. Either you kneel and every time someone asks you why, you tell them it is your penance for all cruelty you inflicted, or one of your beloved daughters, not me, of course, becomes crippled for the rest of her life. Peace be with you, Mother,” I said as I blessed myself with the holy water.
I knew she would not make it a week.
She knew it, too.
My poor sisters.
19
“I loved you as Icarus loved the sun
—too close, too much.”
~Unknown
ETHAN
It had been much longer than five minutes. I knew it would be. However, I still wondered what it was she had planned for her little family reunion. I was sure she would not kill her mother. Not because she did not want to, but because of the optics. She had just arrived in the city a few days ago; if her family ended up dead, it would look bad…Well, it would look like I did it. And there was no way she—no, we—could easily explain that one away. So, she’d keep her alive. But what her plan or thoughts were beyond that, Calliope hadn’t shared.
Typical. It would be easier to get Lucifer back into heaven than it would be to get Calliope to talk about her family or past.
Of all the women, why her, Ethan?
“That was not five minutes, Mommy!”
I glanced down at Gigi, who ripped herself from my side, watching as she rushed over to Calliope, who walked downstairs as immaculately as she had this morning. She grinned as she bent down to lift Gigi into her arms.
“Five minutes is up already? Really? I didn’t realize, I lost track of time.” Calliope laughed through her lie. “What did I miss?”
A better question would be, what did we miss?
Gigi pouted and looked behind her mother’s back. “Where is your mommy, Mommy?”
I smirked; she was my daughter, all right.
“She’s praying,” Calliope replied, putting Gigi on her feet.
Gigi opened her mouth to say something, but whatever magic mothers had in their eyes silenced her quickly.
Calliope petted her head. “Have you been helping Papa?”
“Yes! I helped lots!” Gigi spun around, immediately looking for me.
Calliope looked up, and both of their eyes were on me. Holding her hand, they walked over to where I was supposed to be cutting the dessert to put on the plates to give out.
“Did she really help?” Calliope asked as she came to stand beside the serving tables. “Seems like you still have a lot to work to do.”
I followed her glance to the line of kids that were waiting for me to cut a cake to serve to them, and they still looked terrified. I was sure if Gigi weren’t beside me, they would have been too petrified to come up. God only knows the stories their parents had told them of my family or me.
“Hi, dear,” Calliope spoke sweetly to a little freckle-faced girl who hid beside her slightly older brother.
He was a skinny one, with jet black hair and thick eyebrows for a child. Which made the glare he gave me even more striking. My eyebrow raised slightly at him.
“Is this your brother?”
“Yeah, who’s asking!” The boy puffed up his chest as he stared at her.
“I am, silly,” Calliope giggled.
He was flustered by that and just looked over to me. “Are we getting cake or not?”
“Not,” Calliope huffed. “I only give cake to cute kids. And you are not cute.”
“Well, you are not giving out the cake,” he shot back. Then pointed to me. “Mr. Callahan is.”
He turned to me, holding out his plate. His face was now less menacing, which made me wonder if he had forgotten who he was supposed to be giving his attitude.
“If Mommy says no cake, no cake for you!” Gigi popped up like a hedgehog at my side, her head held high.
“That’s not how it works!” he once again yelled, making a face back at her.
Gigi made a face in return.
“Would you like a piece of cake?” Calliope asked the little girl, this time, using her hands to sign toward the girl as she spoke.
Immediately she came from around her brother, nodding, which caused the boy to put his plate down, turning to sign to her quickly and drawing her back to him.
“Excuse you, mister spider brows. I will have you know, I am not scary or bad,” Calliope said, signing back to him, too.
“Spider brows?” He looked at her in horror.
Calliope nodded, signing again, “Spider. Brows.”
His little sister snorted, trying to hold back her laugh. He looked at her angrily. “Forget it. I didn’t want cake anyhow.”
He stomped off.
“Mr. Callahan, may I please have cake for my cute new friend,” she asked loudly, still signing. “A very big piece.” She took his forgotten plate, giving it to me.
Saying nothing, I cut the biggest piece that could fit onto the plate. Calliope took it and then bent down to face the little girl. Setting it in her hands, sticking two forks into it.
“Here you go, dear,” Calliope signed to her. “Would you like juice?”
She nodded.
“What she would like is her parents. But they were crushed under a rock from the last time the Callahan Family came to church,” an older man grumbled from one of the seated tables.
All of the patrons here had done their best to avoid holding a conversation, grabbing food and moving to their tables, where they mumbled and whispered among themselves—every once in a while, looking to us.
But now, after the man’s comment, they were openly staring…correction, glaring.
“Gigi, can you take two juices to her?” Gigi hopped down, going to the cooler, where Sedric pulled out the drinks.
“Are you deaf, too, woman? She ain’t need no juice!”
“Woman?” I spoke for the first time, putting the knife down as I met the hairy and rough-looking man in torn jeans, hoodie and slippers, despite being at least forty.
Calliope stood up taller, shooting me a glance as she reached for another fork.
“Gigi, why don’t you help her to her table. This cake might be too big for two people,” she said, placing the third fork in the cake.
Gigi looked up to her like she was crazy. “Share?”
“Yes, share,” Calliope said back to her.
“But you said we only share with family.”
“We are with family, silly.” Calliope pinched her cheeks. “Everyone here comes from where we came from. You can speak Italian with them, too.”
Gigi still looked at her unsure but didn’t argue. She looked at the girl. “Come on.”
But she just stared at her, not understanding, for a moment before having to look to Calliope.
“This is my daughter, Gigi. She wants to eat with you and your brother. Can she?” Calliope signed.
The girl nodded. She looked around and put her cake down quickly before signing back. “I’m Luna.”
“Hi Luna, that’s such a pretty name. Gigi, this is Luna, you two be friends,” she directed.
Gigi frowned. “But I don’t know how to talk to her.”
“You will learn.” Calliope nodded. “I will teach you, too. But first, I have to help Papa. You see, all these people here, they don’t know how to talk to him. So, I have to teach them.”
Gigi looked at Luna and then back to her mom, who nodded once more.
“Luna.” She pointed to the table.
Luna nodded, and they walked through the crowd of the tables, carefully holding their food until they got to the table, where Spider Brows was still sulking.
“Now,” Calliope clasped her hands and turned to the table. “Mr. Bianchi, I apologize. I was ignoring you. What were you saying?”