by J. J. McAvoy
As much as I distrusted this Gabriel, I knew he didn’t want Italy. He wanted her; why else would he try so hard to push her buttons, to get in her face and challenge her, make her only see him?
“Ah…” I pulled back when she licked the part of my lip she had bitten hard.
Grabbing the sides of my face she forced me to look at her; “You’re thinking, and not about me. Stop it!”
“Yes, Mrs. Callahan.” I grinned, giving her my full attention.
ELEVEN
“The wolves should be fed and the sheep kept safe.”
~ Leo Tolstoy
DONATELLA
I had that feeling again. That feeling that something was off. That I was missing important pieces of the puzzle in front of me. Gabriel had been in our home for three days now and had barely spoken to me or my family. He left during the day an Ethan and I both had people tail him; a fact he must have been aware of that but didn’t seem to faze him. It was where he was going that bothered me. He’d gone to the OC on the first day and volunteered from morning until closing. The staff said he hadn’t made any calls nor disappeared during that time. They all gushed about how kind and funny he was, and how the elders all liked him. The second day he’d gone to Morning Glory Hospital and volunteered there, reading fairytales to the younger kids, then playing Mahjong and Boggle with the elderly. The third day was the worst. He went out running and then sat on the grass, leaning against a tree and reading for the entire day.
None of it made any bloody sense.
If he wanted me, he’d try to make that clear.
If he didn’t want me and wanted Italy, he would have tried to provoke me and force me to break the agreement. But he wasn’t doing either of those. He was simply…doing nothing. For a man to come into our home, to have the backing of my grandmother, and the word of my parents but to simply do nothing didn’t add up. This was why I knew something was wrong; I just wasn’t sure where to start looking.
“Ma’am, we’re here,” the driver informed me. I looked over to the restaurant on my right, the name Melody’s Garden etched into the glass. The valet opened my door quickly for me to step out.
“Welcome, Ms. Callahan,” The freckle-faced man said, pointing me forward as I took off my sunglasses.
This is going to be fun, I thought sarcastically, walking through the wooden doors as they opened for me. Once inside, as always, it felt as if I’d been transported to Verona, one of my mother’s favorite cites in Italy. The walls that led to the dining hall were made of brick that had been imported from the city itself. The end of the hall was so bright, it looked as if you were walking into the light at the end of life. I could hear their soft voices as they laughed and giggled, which died down when I reached the light at the end. As always, I found myself unable to look away from the glass dome above, where all you could see was the bright blue sky. Centered in the middle of the dining room was a saltwater Roman-style fountain. Apparently, the statue of a woman pouring water from a jug was meant to look like my mother…but I couldn’t see it. All around the restaurant were perfectly trimmed and managed bushes.
Inhaling, I smiled; “Good morning, ladies.”
“Good morning, Donatella,” they all said it, which was kind of funny. They sounded like school children and I was their teacher… No, not funny—pitiful for them. They were all much older, much more important in the public eye at least; one of them being the governor’s wife and another the mayor’s, and yet even they had to come for the monthly Callahan Foundation meeting.
“You look beautiful, as always.” The governor’s wife came up to me first, as usual. Her brown hair cropped short at her shoulders. She came up first as a way to define the order of importance to the other ladies and I didn’t stop her.
“Thank you, Brigitte…” I reached out to take her hand when she offered it, but she paused… No, not just her, but all of them looked around me.
Turning around, I watched as Ivy came in, dressed in a tight pale pink dress and a white jacket that hung on her shoulders. Her golden blonde hair over one of her shoulders in soft waves, she tucked her beige clutch under her arm, taking off her sunglasses and smiling at the ladies assembled.
“Morning ladies,” she said and even though no one replied, she confidently made her way towards me.
“Dona, you left without me! I know you hate being late but honestly… I’m hurt.” She laughed, grabbing on to my arm. I stared at her, unsure of what to stay. No…that was a lie. I wanted to tell her to let fucking go of me before I kicked her to moon. “Can you do me a favor?” she had the nerve to ask.
“Can you tell them to step back?” She nodded at the guards behind her… One of them being Greyson himself. He nodded to me but then focused on Ivy. She whispered, “Ethan is strict about making sure I’m protected. However, you don’t have guards so obviously I don’t need one either.”
No. She needed them.
She needed them to protect her from me.
“Ivy, welcome!” Nari came to her rescue, hugging gently and kissing her cheeks. “I’m so glad you could make it today. We thought you were still resting.”
“Do I really need that much rest from my honeymoon?” Ivy laughed, letting me go and taking Nari’s hand. “Actually, I take that back.”
A few of the other women laughed, and as if she didn’t see me, Brigitte stepped before me to Ivy offering her hand.
“Mrs. Callahan, I’m so happy we can finally meet.”
“Brigitte Orton.” Ivy took her hand and shook it. “I’ve heard so much about you from Dona. Thank you for your donation last month; who knew we’d end up needing it and so much more for the hospital? How’s your husband? Ethan was saying we were all going to have dinner sometime soon.”
“I will only agree if you and Ethan allow us to host you both at the governor’s mansion.” Brigitte smiled brushing her hair behind her ear.
“I’ll see when Ethan has time.”
“Well, I’m hurt.” Fatimah Gupta, the mayor’s wife, came forward. “Where is my invitation?”
“Mrs. Gupta, how are you?” Ivy asked, offering her hand. One by one, it went on like this, the crowd around her growing and growing, and pushing me farther and farther out. I felt the lump in my throat growing.
“Ethan!” I was going to kill him. This place was mine. He knew that. Mother had left it to me, and grandmother had taken care of it until I took over four years ago. For four fucking years I had built this! Why the bloody fucking hell was I feeling excluded? Why the hell was she here?
“Breathe, Dona,” Helen whispered, suddenly appearing beside me. “You can’t leave but—”
“Why would I leave!” I hissed at her under my breath. “The foundation is mine.”
She squeezed my arm, her brown eyes piercing into mine; “The Callahan Foundation belongs to the next Mrs. Callahan. That isn’t you, Dona; it’s Ivy. You know that. Everybody knows that. So, act like you know, and don’t get angry.”
I stared at her in disbelief and then a small, short laugh escaped from my lips. Reaching up to her arm, I pushed her hands off of me.
“I do not need you to tell me how to act or what to feel. I’ll handle this the same way I’ve handled everything else…in my own way,” I said to her, turning and walking towards the front of the hall to the first table which sat in front like a high table allowing us to see everyone. It was the table for the Callahan women, as well as the governor’s and mayor’s wife and any other government and business wives. A hierarchy of sorts. I picked up the microphone, swallowing my rage as I spoke to them gently.
“Ladies, ladies, I’m sure you’d all love to have lunch or dinner with Ivy and my brother, but please let us not forget why we are here. The Callahan Foundation is here to help this city and our great state; it is not simply our tea hour. Ivy,” I called out to her and she turned slightly to me. I pulled out a chair for her, saying, “Please sit so we can get started.”
“Of course, forgive me.” She laughed, walking towa
rds the table, however she didn’t sit at the chair I pulled out for her. She instead sat in the polished brass and red velvet Chiavari chair…the chair that had once been my mother’s. All chairs were red velvet for these meetings. However, that chair, my mother’s chair, was slightly bigger. It was placed at the head of the table and had her initials carved into the arm.
I wanted to slap the fuck out of her, but instead pretended I didn’t notice where she sat. I looked over to Helen and Nari; “Please, come sit.”
They both smiled and nodded moving to sit at the tables, followed by Brigitte and Fatimah. Only once they and everyone else was seated did I turned my attention to my dear, sweet sister-in-law.
“Ivy, everyone is so glad you are here. Me especially. For the last four years I’ve run The Callahan Foundation hoping and knowing one day I’d past to reins over. I’m grateful it’s to someone like you who truly understand how it must be for the most unfortunate of us all. To suffer as you have suffered for seven long years in Ricker Hill. Losing your ability to even get an education, beaten almost daily, drugged far too often, and only God and you know what else must have happened to you. On top of that, to be born into such poverty, without a mother, and to rise so high is such an inspiration to me and all the women of this foundation. I’m confident that my mother would be proud knowing you’re now in charge of one of her most beloved organizations.” Turning from her to address the rest of the women, “Ladies, as Jane Austen once said, ‘Marriage is indeed a maneuvering business.’ To my sister-in-law, Ivy Callahan, our new master strategist. Listen well, I’m sure she has much to share.”
I smiled, handing her the microphone. The look in her eyes one of anger. I knew her well enough by now to know she’d be able to handle this job, but also knew everyone else well enough to know that they’d make it as hard as possible. And what’s more, every word I had just said would be used in the future as a weapon against her. Their words wouldn’t hurt; what would hurt was trying to fill that chair and not make a fool out of herself, Ethan, and our entire family every time she sat there. The weight of that would hurt for a while and she’d get used to it, but for now… I just wanted her to squirm.
“Thank you, Dona,” she said softly, her voice cracking slightly. “You always have such a way with words. I missed the last meeting sadly, but I did hear we were discussing budget increases—”
“Mrs. Callahan.” Brigitte, who actually hated our family, spoke up as she often did because she was an attention whore. “In the last email sent out we were discussing planning events to raise the city’s spirits after that awful attack.”
“Oh,” Ivy replied, thinking for a moment. “Did anyone have any ideas?”
I snickered to myself because she’d just unleashed one hell of a can of worms.
“I was thinking a city fair in Donald Park.” Fatimah sat up and quickly said, “It would be perfect with the weather we’ve been having—”
“We can’t always have these events in Chicago. We should spend a little time outside the city—”
“But the bombing happened within the city,” another woman spoke out. “Of course, we’ll need to lift the city’s spirits first.”
“Yes, but other cities have had hard years, too—”
“There’s a big difference between a hard year and a city bombing.”
One by one, they all started to speak, all of them trying to get their voices heard, and their ideas made with Callahan backing to boost themselves. They were like hungry piranhas that would bite almost anything, even their own in order to get more. Each and every one of them were greedy, power-hungry bitches. They didn’t give a flying fuck about helping anyone but themselves. I knew this because I was like them…only I knew how to rule over people like that and keep them and their greed in line. I’d honed that skill my entire life and Ivy thought she could waltz in here and just take over. She’d most likely learned how to fight dirty in prison, but anyone could fight dirty. A real queen knew how to fight clean, to hold order with grace. Ivy was beautiful, maybe smart, but she didn’t have that grace.
Imagine their reactions when they realize she doesn’t even know the difference between her forks. Snickering, I lifted my glass of water, bringing it to my lips and drinking as they all yelled over each other.
“She’s family,” Nari whispered to me, as if telling me to do something.
“She came because she wanted to take her place; let her take it and see how well she fits,” I replied, looking to Ivy just as she glanced over at me.
“Donatella, what is your idea? I’m sure you had something in mind what with how quickly you came here this morning?” Ivy asked me.
“Me?” I said in surprise and frowning as I shook my head, “I’m just here for the food. You should try the cheese rolls; they are to die for.” I smiled, waving over the waiter and ordering without paying any of them any mind.
Squirm Ivy, squirm.
IVY
“Your sister is a bitch!” I yelled at him, taking off my heels and tossing them into the corner of my closet. “Actually, they’re all bitches! You put me in charge of a foundation of bitches! Why?”
Ethan sighed, taking off his watch and placing it on the bedside table; “Because that’s your role as my wife.”
“Ethan, I’m not good at stuff like that! And Donatella knows it; that’s why she dragged me front and center and left me to deal with those…harpies!” I was angry. I never thought I’d miss prison so damn much. At least in prison no one sugarcoated shit. If people hated you, they didn’t hide their knives. They came for you. But in this organization, everyone was two-faced. I could see it so clearly, they were only speaking and smiling to me because I was Mrs. Callahan, but in reality, they just wanted something for themselves. I wanted to call them out for their fakeness, but that would only make me look weird.
“I don’t want to do this,” I told him. “I’m a science and math person, Ethan. If you want me to do something…then…then let me help with the drugs—”
“Stop!” he snapped, turning to glare into my eyes. “Ivy, we all have roles. You may not like it. You may not like those women. My mother hated those women, too. But she understood what you need to understand. Those women are married to important people. Those women hear important things, sometimes without even realizing it. So, when they go out to brag, and I assure you they will brag, they’ll drop breadcrumbs about people and the power they have. You’re there to see what drops. You are there to make sure they know that our eyes and our pockets are endless. You don’t have to like them. But you must make sure they respect and fear you.”
“How, Ethan?! How?”
“I don’t know! It’s your job to figure out!” He groaned rubbing the side of his head. “You’ve gotten your vengeance. You can’t keep being Ivy O’Davoren. You must be Ivy Callahan. Who Ivy Callahan is up to you but know that it’s also a reflection of me and our family.”
“So now you’re telling me I need to change?” I didn’t want to change. And I wasn’t going to.
“No,” he said placing his hands on my face. “I don’t want you to change. I’m not telling you to change. I’m telling you that you’re going to have to do what we all do in this family, and that is to pick a mask to wear for the world and only take it off when you’re with me.”
It was only when he’d said it that I remembered how Dona sucked in her anger. I knew going there would piss her off, yet I didn’t notice anything off about her… She even seemed happy. How long ago had she picked her mask?
“Okay.” I nodded. “Don’t get angry if I mess this up. I’m not as good at this as the rest of you yet.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll always clean up your mess.” He kissed my forehead.
I didn’t like how he said it, but I understood and it made me feel better. Frowning still, I muttered, “I still want to play whack-a-mole with those women’s heads though.”
“Maybe one day you will.”
“Just remember, all of those women, all
their power… It can be replaced, and replaced by your word. Speak to them like that. You’re the one who holds their lives in your hand. You don’t have to kill them, but you can squeeze.”
Next time…at the next meeting I’d show them all.
DONATELLA
“O’Phelan, I want anything that will go with a glass of Rosé,” I said as I sat in the empty dining room. It was well past dinner and I’d come home this late for one reason…to be alone. I kicked off my heels, leaning back in my seat, and relaxing when all of sudden the door opened.
“Good evening, big brother. How was your day?” I smiled, crossing my legs in his chair at the head of the table.
“Quite interesting, thanks to the list of traitors you were able to get me,” he said walking up the opposite end of the table.
“You’re welcome; what are sisters for?” I shrugged, resting my chin on my palm. “Did you come down just to tell me that?”
“No,” He replied, picking up one of the knives from the table settings. “How was your day, little sister?”
“A few hiccups here and there but nothing I couldn’t handle, of course.”
He nodded, spinning the knife in his hands. “Was one of the hiccups my wife, and did it you handle it by dragging her past through the mud?”
“I didn’t say anything you couldn’t read on Wikipedia,” I replied, sitting up straight as he moved closer to me. “Why, was she hurt?”
“Would you like her to be hurt?”
I snickered. “I’d be disappointed if she were hurt so easily. It would mean she was weak and you were stupid enough to marry weak, and arrogant enough to think she could so easily replace me.”
“Dona,” he said my name through clenched teeth, gripping the knife in his hands. “She is family; you do not embarrass—”
“YOU EMBARRASSED ME!” I hollered, slamming my fist on the table and rising to my feet. “Without warning, once again big brother you put your wife in my face! Four years I’ve run that foundation! Mom’s foundation. Four fucking years of being judge, jury, and executioner; it has been ME who has told you when we needed a new governor, which judges might be in debt or having an affair. ME who sat and listened to those women bitch and moan just so you could hold an axe over them all. For years I did that for you, big brother. And you didn’t have the decency to tell me you were sending her!”