by Ava Catori
I couldn't look away from his adorable, tiny face. The small child was perfect. His bright eyes took in everything. There was such innocence in him. I hoped it stayed that way. Maybe it would if Barbara kept her distance from the family. She didn’t need her son to be tainted by our entanglements. If he became one of us, it wouldn't be easy, but he'd always be loved and protected from the harsh elements. At least through his childhood … but then, like me, sadly he would say good-bye to innocence way too early.
Aiden started to stir, then cry. A little cooing didn’t work so I softly sang to him, what came to my lips was a lullaby from my past. He settled into my arms, and stared at me. What a precious child.
But then the hair on the back of my neck stood. It was as if I were being watched. I quickly glanced at the people gathered in the pews behind me. That’s when I saw him for the first time, a row or two behind my cousins on my mother’s side, his eyes stormy and strong. He didn’t try to hide his gaze and locked eyes with me for a moment. I turned away from him, and focused on Aiden and Barbara.
The image of that man lingered in my mind for a long time. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t shake it off. I wasn’t used to people blatantly staring. He was handsome in his own way, but rough around the edges.
Aiden reached for a handful of my hair. I gently slipped my finger in its place and watched his tiny hand circle it. I smiled seeing the newest member of our family; it helped to ease the pain of losing one of the oldest.
I spoke with Barbara, wanting her to feel welcomed in our crazy family. The first impression she gave was a good one, not overbearing or trying to grab her child back from my arms. I was a complete stranger, and yet she put her trust in me. Maybe she didn’t see a twenty-one-year-old as a threat, either way, I decided I liked her, what little I knew about her. The love in her eyes directed at Aiden was all I needed to see.
Once we’d settled back into our places, the service started. It was time to say good-bye.
* * *
4
Gino
"Did you do what I think you just did?" Chiara asked as I caught up with Sonny and her on the way to the parking lot.
"I don't know? What do you think I did?" I so loved to tease her.
Staring at me above the car while helping my sister settle in, my brother-in-law silently asked me the same question and I nodded. He smiled. As we took our seats in the front of the car, he muttered, "Ah to be young again."
"Sonny Traversini," my sister called out. "Tell me you're not having fantasies about banging God knows what bimbo in a church!"
Sonny looked at Chiara in the central rearview mirror, and then shook his head. With his best contrite expression, he convinced my sister that no such idea had crossed his mind. "Of course, not darling. It's just your brother's enthusiasm I envy."
He turned on the radio and whispered, "Where did you do it; the confessional booth?"
I nodded.
He laughed. "I knew it!"
Not fooled for a second about the subject of our conversation, my sister asked, "Who was she?"
"A gentleman never tells" was my only answer.
She snorted. "You wouldn't know a true gentleman if you met one on the street."
"Why do you want to know anyway?" Sonny teased.
I laughed. "To pray for a sinner's lost soul, of course!"
The truth of the matter was that Chiara needed the information because otherwise she would go crazy speculating on my partner's identity. She needed to know. Without a name, there would be no juicy piece of gossip to share.
She sulked in silence for the rest of the trip and when we reached their home where I had left my car earlier in the day, she vanished to God knows where giving Sonny and me the room we needed. We had serious business to discuss before the Capo's meeting.
"I don't think I can demand less than the man's resignation," Sonny said as he poured us each a glass of Sambucca Romana and jumped into the thick of things.
"Well, his father didn't play fair with you," I stated, pensively. "But then there is a tradition according to which the sins of the father..." I was too lost in my own thoughts to end my sentence.
How had such an ordinary man with such a plain wife managed to create such a perfect creature? I closed my eyes and replayed the vision of my very own dream Madonna with a child in her arms like a movie in my mind.
"Are you getting all religious on me?" Sonny asked.
I shook my head and smiled. A diabolical idea crossed my mind. I wondered if I could sell the idea to Sonny.
"I know that look," he said. He spit out a laugh. "Spill it, whiz kid. What’s your latest stroke of genius?"
I thought before speaking, and worded it delicately. "What if instead of starting a war, we started a true alliance? One that would continue past the elimination of the actual Russian threat?"
Sonny cocked his head and said, "I'm listening."
"Well, it’s a little twisted. I think the best course of action is to get the Guarnieri family to surrender their territory without losing face." I took a sip of my drink to give my words time to sink in.
My brother-in-law was too smart not to take advantage of the present situation. The Guarnieri had falsely accused him of invading their territory and had set him up. Even if he had been released after their false witness recanted his story, the fact remained they owed him for sending him to jail on trumped up charges.
We had everything to gain by putting up a united front and fighting the Russians together. If he played his cards right, he could reap huge benefits. Being generous and coming off with the right angle could give him some sort of clout, make him appear like a benevolent but firm leader.
"Someone in our family should marry Dante's oldest daughter," I said.
Sonny frowned and waited for me to continue.
"Look at it this way, if the Guarnieri, Simone, and Traversini all become one family, then Dante can step down. Let him retire to Florida and leave his son-in-law in charge."
A smile slowly crept over Sonny's lips as he understood where I was going with this. "And given the way you were looking at Isabella, I'm assuming I wouldn't have to twist your arm too hard for you to volunteer."
"You know me, always ready to take one for the team," I joked.
Sonny’s smile vanished. He looked dead serious and asked, "But you realize you would still be reporting to me?" There was no joking when it came to the definition of ranking order.
"Of course," I agreed. My answer sounded phony to my own ears, but Sonny appeared happy with it so I didn't say any more. He knew how ambitious I was, but wanted to believe that family still meant something in our world.
What he didn't get was that what counted in my book was blood. Right, and if his wife and daughter were my blood, he was not. My loyalty to Sonny didn't run as deep as he expected. I was grateful to him for marrying Chiara even though she was saddled with a baby brother and not shipping me away as soon as he could have but there was a limit to my gratitude.
By the time he’d realize it, it would be too late for him to do anything about it. I wasn’t making a move against him before I had all my ducks in a row. I missed my window of opportunity while he had been sent away. I’d be patient. Another one would come.
In the meantime, I’d continue climbing the ladder to the top, one step at a time. Now that I had things plotted, I looked forward to making my next move.
Isabella would make a lovely bride. Her curvaceous figure would probably soften with the years and the children she’d give me, but I was fine with that. I liked my women on the lush side. I’d enjoy her scrumptious curves as they were and wouldn’t object to see her grow into the part of being my wife.
Sonny looked at his watch. "Let's get this show on the road."
I chose to drive my car and follow behind him. When we got to the meeting, he presented my plan as his own and convinced everyone it would be for the best.
The idea of an alliance instead of war was well received. The
re was enough outside trouble lately; cementing the relationship between the Italian families by marriage was easier to sell than a full blown war.
When Sonny walked out of the meeting, there was no doubt he was happy with himself. His name would go down in history as the brains behind the alliance that would take out the Russians.
He was going to save us all.
* * *
5
Isabella
My father's face was grim, and his eyes crinkled showing his age. His normal flushed complexion looked pale and paper thin. By the way he’d called me into his office, I knew something was wrong. The tone of his voice was deeper, more serious. Walking in, my chest tightened, aware it had to be bad news. Good news was usually delivered with a smile.
My father paced, not looking me in the eye. His jaw was tense and the vein on the side of his neck bulged. Normally, he'd be seated in his leather chair. This was different … he was jumpy. He quickly glanced over his shoulder after I walked through the door, almost like he wasn't expecting me, yet he'd just asked me to join him.
"Dad, are you okay?" I watched him walk back and forth.
"Bella, we need to talk." He looked through the window in the back of the room behind his oversized desk and sighed. "I'm in a difficult position."
I sat down and waited for him to continue. He didn't usually confide in me, especially about family issues. He'd always played the part of a tough guy in front of me. This was a new side I’d never seen before. Maybe his own father’s death had brought this change on? Maybe he’d come to realize that even though I was a girl, I could still be someone he could share his trouble with. After all I was an adult too now.
"What I have to say will change our lives. There's no gentle way to put this." My father shook his head almost as if he was in a discussion with himself. "God, I haven’t even discussed this with your mother yet."
He looked over his shoulder, then at me, and then out the window again before finally turning to face me. He spoke slowly and clearly. He needed me to digest what he was saying. "The family heads met earlier today. They decided that the Guarnieri have a debt to pay to the Traversini family."
I frowned. So far he'd kept me away from family business. Everyone was informed according to a need to know basis, and up to today, Maura and I had never needed to know anything. It was actually one of the things I was grateful for the most. He rarely talked business in front of us. So why was he telling me this now?
"Decisions have been made, big ones. I need you to understand, I wouldn’t be discussing this with you otherwise, but it will touch both of our lives. It was made clear to me that if we didn't go along with the plan, I would be ..." He seemed lost for words. He drew a deep breath, and then finished his sentence in a whisper "... terminated at once."
My heart lodged in my throat. I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came out. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak.
He continued, explaining what happened. "Sweetie, it's payback. The Guarnieris got Sonny Traversini tossed in the slammer on trumped up charges over territory crap. Now that he’s out…"
I jumped out of my chair to hug him, but he put his hand up in a gesture that told me he wasn’t finished.
I froze. "What is it, Daddy? Please tell me?"
"I'm so sorry, Isabella. You’ve been pulled into this mess as well. This is about you just as much as it is about me."
I arched an eyebrow, confused on hearing the last part. How could this have anything to do with me? "What do you mean?"
"You're the price they’ve demanded." He looked me dead in the eye. His gaze was void of life. We stood motionless.
Was this some sort of joke? It didn’t make sense. Giving away your first born only happened in bad fairy tales.
He reiterated, feeding me a little more information. "If they don't get you, it will be the end of me."
"What do you mean they want me? They want me ...dead?" My pulse raced. I was forced to steady myself as my head started to spin. There wasn’t enough air in the room. I forced myself to breathe and held on to the edge of my father’s desk.
"No, Isabella, they don't want to kill you. It’s okay, don’t panic." He appeared almost amused for a second at my jumping to such a conclusion.
I didn’t understand. “What do they want?”
"You’re hand in marriage… you’re to marry one of the Traversinis. By agreeing to the deal, your marriage would seal an alliance, and you’ll have saved me."
I heard my voice, but felt like I was out of my body, grasping at straws. I shook my head in disbelief. "Let me get this straight, I’m a little confused. Like an old movie, they think they can pick and choose a wife, and the woman will bow her head in respect and say sure, why not?"
"Isabella, if you say no, the life of this family would be dramatically altered. I’m sorry to even have to mention this to you, truly, but you can see I have no choice. Your mother and sister, they need someone to take care of them. If I can't do it, then it will have to be you." My father sighed and continued. "I asked the other family heads to give me a week to think about it. They only allowed me one day. Not a second more."
"Oh, Dad..." I dropped in my seat and hid my face in my hands. I didn't need a day or even a minute to think about it, I knew what had to be done. Finding resolve, I looked up at him and said, "I'll do it. I'll marry the bastard, whoever he is. There's no way I'd let them ... terminate you like that. What kind of animals are these people?"
"Are you sure, Bella? You realize this will turn your life around. You won't be able to go back to college. You'll have to give up your dreams ..." He looked so defeated. It broke my heart.
"Tell them I'll do it. I'll do whatever it takes." The reality of my words struck me, like a sucker punch to the gut.
"Bella, how can I thank you? I appreciate it, truly I do. I'm not going to lie, I'm terrified. It’s not something I’m used to, but when they gave me the choice … anyway, I never saw this coming. The death of your grandfather was shock enough. I didn't think it could get any worse, and now this."
I stiffened my lip. "Did they set a date?"
The conversation was surreal. Words were spoken, but my mind had already drifted off. There would be no finishing my school, no getting my degree, no fulfilling career. No, instead I'd become a Mafiosi's wife. Nothing more, nothing less, a figure that faded in the background, insignificant to the world, my only pleasure would be staring out the kitchen window to the world, wondering what life would have been like had I grown up in a normal family. I would become my mother, meek and quiet, behind a man I wanted as little as possible to do with.
I absorbed what I could, and then excused myself. My body was numb, my mind a whirlwind of stress, but I couldn't put thoughts together in a cognitive way. It jumped about, much like my father had before our discussion.
I went to my room and closed the door behind me. Maura must have heard me, and knocked, but all I could utter was "not now."
She went away with a grumble. I should have invited her in, but I had nothing left to give. I was lost in my misery, sinking to a bottomless pit. My life was over. Coming home had been a welcome pleasure, but now that I was here, I wanted to go anywhere else, run away and pretend this wasn't happening.
I stared at the wall and curled under the covers of my bed, pulling them tightly, nesting into a cocoon. If only it was that easy to shut off reality. What would my mother say when she heard of the choice my father was given? Would she freely give me away to save her husband, or push him down the stairs, trying to save her eldest daughter from living a life similar to the one she'd been locked into? She once had dreams and hopes too, until she married into the family. Things changed. She changed. I knew I would change, too.
I cried over the death of my dreams, flushed downstream.
Some prick of a bastard expected me to spend my life with him, and offer up my virginity like some damn prize. Well, fuck him. I wouldn't make it easy. I'd marry the man, but nobody said I had to like it. A
nd I'll be damned if I'd sleep with him. I'd demand a separate room, and live a separate life while living the lie he'd forced onto me.
And if he forced himself upon me, then I would endure, but still I would do whatever it took to make his life as miserable as he'd make mine.
But at least my father would still be breathing. I'd sacrifice my happiness for my dad's life - that was one thing I wouldn't regret.
* * *
6
Gino
The Guarnieri's home was impressive. While Domenico had remained in a nice but modest house, his son purchased a grand place in Preston Hills Beach.
According to statistics, it usually took three generations to bring an empire down. The Guarnieri would be part of the exception. It would only take two. Domenico built his kingdom from scratch and his kids were letting it all wash out to sea.
There would probably be no regrets for two of his heirs. The priest and daughter made it clear they weren’t interested in the old man's legacy, but it was different for Dante. He wanted to follow in his father's footsteps and failed miserably.
I rang the bell and waited. My future father-in-law came to the door to welcome me. He shook my hand cordially, as if our situation was perfectly normal.
Following him to the living room, I noticed the intricately ornate decor and hoped that it wouldn’t be Isabella's taste. I liked my home like my women, comfortable and unpretentious.
She stood off to the side, barely moving. My future bride was gorgeous, even with a scowl across her face.
She didn’t event attempt to hide the way she felt.
"Good evening," Isabella said offering me her hand. The formality wasn’t lost on me. For a second, a smile dawned on her lips as she greeted me. It wasn’t a real smile, there was no hiding the fact she wasn’t the least bit happy to see me. The deep circles under her eyes told me she hadn’t slept well. She probably hadn’t had a decent night of sleep since she’d gotten the news of her father’s deal.