La Famiglia (66 page)

“Sit down, Catalina,” Dominic took a sip from his mug.

He looked up as she pulled out a chair. “I will talk to her today. But I need to tell you something.”

“What is it now?” Catalina sighed.

“Giovanni has closed the doors to
Fabiana’s
.” Dominic glanced up. “He dismissed the staff. He’s stopped production in New York. He’s shut everything in Mira’s company down.”

“What?” Catalina gasped. “Is he crazy? He can’t do that! Legally we are obligated to so many… my God! What about Carole’s show in Paris next month?”

Dominic nodded. “I’ve been on the phone all day yesterday. The projects that are in flight will continue. Theodore Tate is handling the New York division. No new orders. I have the attorneys going over our obligations. As for
Fabiana’s
, I’m sorry,
cara
, it’s done.”

“What is he thinking? Mira finds this out and she will hate him for it,” Catalina said.

Dominic wiped his hand down his face. “We leave tonight. He’s returning to Sorrento. I can’t prevent it. I need you to stay with Mira. Help her through her anger, whatever it is. But get her to see reason for when we return.” He looked up. “And don’t leave Villa Mare Blu. No matter what don’t leave here.”

“It’s starting isn’t it? He’s starting again?” Catalina asked. “I read in the papers that there have been arrests and fighting in the streets of Napoli. Our family name is in the papers again.”

“No. It’s not starting again. Not like the Calderones. He won’t go that far. I’ll make sure of it. But he can’t go on this way much longer. Mira has to be reasoned with. Unfortunately she has to make things right with him. Giovanni isn’t in his right mind.”

“Domi, she doesn’t listen to me. She spends so much time with Marietta. She is the only person Mira wants to be around lately.” Catalina didn’t hide her jealousy. Dominic sat back and listened. “They whisper and giggle like school girls. And when I told Marietta she needs to talk to Mira about forgiving Gio do you know what she said?”

“What?” he asked.

“She said Gio made his bed so he must lie in it. What the fuck does that mean? Some American proverb bullshit!” Catalina spat.

“Is that so?” Dominic asked.

“Yes! That’s so.” Catalina stepped to the table. “I’ve been taking care of Gio. At night when he thinks no one else is around he watches the wedding video and drinks. Today I found him with Mira’s dresses.”

Dominic frowned.

“I think he was sniffing them.” Catalina said in disgust. “He’s losing his fucking mind. He’s slipping, Domi, and that weakness is dangerous. The men have seen it.”

“Then maybe we need to try a different approach,” Dominic said.

“Huh?” Catalina said. “Different how? I’ve tried everything. They need to have sex! That’s what I think.”

Dominic chuckled. “Sex won’t solve it Catalina.” He pushed back his chair and went over to Catalina to kiss her. “You inspire me.”

She kissed him back. “What did I do? What did I say? Sex?”

He winked and walked out.

* B
*

Mira rocked in the chair with Eve resting against her breast. Her daughter had cried herself to sleep. She looked over to the babies. Gino had his hand on Gianni. She would have to get the camera and take a picture because it was so cute.

Soon her boys would be up for their first feeding. She needed to prepare the bottles. She managed to stand and walked over to the bed to place Eve down when the door to the room opened. She glanced back in time to see Zia step inside.

“I think it’s time for a feeding,” Zia said. “That’s what the schedule says.” Zia held a paper in her hand that she’d given to her and Cecilia with their feeding schedules.

“Yes. I was just putting Eve down.” Mira looked over at her aunt with a smile. “Thanks for being so prompt.”

“I know my babies,” Zia smiled. “All of them. Where’s Giovanni?”

Mira ignored the question. She walked over to the crib. Gino lay with his eyes open, he sucked Eve’s pacifier. How it ended up in his mouth she didn’t know or understand. The fact that Eve parted with her pacifier was a shocker. “Look who’s up. Hello there, Gino, it’s Mama.”

She reached inside and picked up her son. He was now five pounds. He gained weight every day.

“Mira?”

“Mmm?” she said, opening her blouse to remove her breast.

“Have you and Gio talked? Really talked? I know he is sorry for his actions. He tells Rocco all the time how sorry he is.”

“Zia. Not now. Please. I want some peace. I did try with him, but he’s upset with me. I’m thinking of a way to reach him. Just give me a moment okay?”

“Okay,” she said.

“Can you check the bag and get out Gianni’s bottle. Put the other bottles in the refrigerator please. He’ll be up crying for it in a—” Before she could finish Gianni began to cry from his crib. Mira glanced back and laughed. “See?”

Zia went to the crib and tried to calm the boy. He wailed for his bottle. Mira wished she could nurse them both at the same time. But she and the boys would have to come up with their own manageable routine.

After a moment Zia had the bottle and was feeding Gianni. She sat on the edge of the bed. “It will be hard to do this alone. Cecilia will need to help you stay on schedule.” Zia said. “Or Giovanni?”

Mira laughed. “You aren’t going to let up are you?”

“No,” Zia smiled. “Gio needs you and you need him. The entire family suffers with you.”

Mira sighed. “You’re right. Later I’ll try again. It didn’t go well earlier. He’s so angry at me, which only makes me angrier at him. We’re at an impasse.”

“You’ll get through it.” Zia assured her.

Mira looked down at her son. “I pray we do.”

* B
*

Dominic found Marietta in her room folding clothes. The door was open. He knocked and entered. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

She looked up at him and her pretty brow creased with worry. “Is it Lo? Something happen to him?” she asked. “I just spoke to Lorenzo an hour ago.”

“No,” Dominic put his hands up. “Nothing has happened to Lorenzo. I wanted to talk to you. If that is okay?”

“Oh! Me? Really? Cool,” she said. “Come in.” she waved him inside. “You’re top guy around King B, right? You’re Catalina’s lover.”

He wasn’t sure he cared for her choice of words. “I’m family yes. I’m also the
consigliere
. That makes me Giovanni’s relied upon council. But I’m also council for the family.”

“I’ve seen Godfather. I know what you are.” Marietta sat down. “Though Lorenzo says the Godfather is bullshit, but you guys seem to behave the same way. My husband is now his cousin’s left hand and that makes him happy. A happy Lorenzo is a good Lorenzo,” she smiled.

Dominic had to smile again. There was something refreshingly honest about her that he liked. He looked hard at her for a moment and could see the family resemblance between the twins. “I thought you and I should talk. Discuss things. I want to answer your questions.”

“Questions? I don’t have any questions.” Marietta said.

“Of course you do,” Dominic said. “This is all new to you. The family, the sister, the lifestyle.”

Marietta stared at him for a moment then looked away. “Sort of, but I think most of it I can figure out as we go along.”

“And your sister’s husband?” Dominic asked.

She cut her gaze his way. “What about him?”

“What have you figured out about him and this situation with his wife?” Dominic asked.

“That he’s a control freak. Guess it comes with his job description. He also loves tagging my husband to get his dirty work done. But he refuses to respect my man the way he deserves. And… he has royally fucked up his marriage to keep me and my sister apart.”

It was Dominic’s turn to be silent.

Marietta continued. “You have to understand. I wasn’t just given to my grandparents like Mira. I was left with a family that hated me. No. Teresa Leone was a silent observer. The man who raised me was the evildoer, a sadist. He abused me. Things you never want to see happen to a kid happened to me. I came to Italy for a family because I knew I had to have one other than the Leones. Lorenzo would have helped me find my sister, and more about my mother if it weren’t for your great high and mighty
Don
. How exactly am I expected to feel about that?”

“Do you want to know why he did these things or do you prefer to make up his reasonings on your own?” Dominic asked.

“How dare you!” Marietta said. “Hey, I know what this is. You’re his watchdog. He still thinks my existence is the reason his wife won’t look at him. Forgive him. Bullshit! He did this. Don’t come in here and try to lay any of her attitude change on me. You have no idea what it’s like to need a family as a child and only get a fist to your face instead. So don’t sit here like you’re counseling me!”

Dominic sat forward. He stared Marietta in her eyes. Slowly the motivations of Marietta became even clearer. Giovanni was wrong to cast this one aside. Marietta was strong enough to teach Mira how to be a true
Donna
. The women just needed a little help. He sat upright and reached behind his neck. She frowned as he unclasped his necklace and then passed it over to her.

“What is this?” Marietta asked.

“Patron Saint William. I’ve worn this necklace since I was five or six years old. We still aren’t sure of my birthdate. There is no official true record of my birth. Only the one that the
Battaglia’s
gave me.”

He watched as Marietta held up the necklace and then saw her study the stamp of Del Stavio to the back. “Why don’t you have a record of your birth?” she glanced to him.

“Because I too was born into hell. I needed a family and for many years as a boy all I got was a fist to my face. It’s this necklace and that high and mighty
Don
who brought me out of it. Do you want me to tell you my story?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Fall 1972

Outside of Palermo  - Sicily

The revving engines of cars approached and Dominic sensed he should hide. His papa didn’t like for him to be seen. He crawled on his hands and knees across a muddy ground covered in bird shit, feathers and broken eggshells. The hens squawked and flapped their wings in panic. Feathers floated down from above like snowfall. The shack had been made of nailed planks of wood, which separated enough to give him a view if he remained on his hands and knees. The sulfuric stench of the coop nearly strangled him each time he took a breath, but he had grown used to it. He breathed through his nostrils instead of his mouth.

And it was as he suspected. Dominic stared through the opening and watched the man with the fedora hat and long cigar step out of a car. He had others with them. A few of the men ran into the villa ahead of the man to where his father slept. There was shouting. So much yelling Dominic got to his feet and covered his ears with his soiled hands. When the shouting came so did the pain. If the visit ended badly his papa would make him pay.

“No! No! No! No!” Dominic wept.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “Noooooo,” he whimpered.

The hens began to pick up on his anxiety. More than a few squawked and several pecked at his feet and ankles with relentless ferocity. They wanted to drive him out. Dominic cried. He tried to find a safe place from the attack. He didn’t dare run out. He would be seen, and that would be bad. Very bad! The chicken coop was the only hiding place that spared him most nights when his father was drinking and on the hunt for him. What would spare him now?

The door to the hut was kicked open. Dominic ran for the corner. “No, Papa, no per favore!” he pleaded.

Hands reached in and grabbed him. Strong hands he couldn’t shake off. He was dragged out into the light and he fought his fate with everything in him. “No, Papa! No!”

“It is okay picoletto. It is okay,” a man said.

Dominic shook his head refusing to open his eyes. The man touched his face with care. “Look at me. Open your eyes.”

With great reluctance he did. A man he’d never met before smiled at him. “I’m Rocco. You’re safe.” Confused by the kindness and dreading his father’s wrath at being discovered he again tried to push away. “Bring the bastardo around here!” Rocco yelled to the others.

Dominic was lifted into the arms of the stranger as two men dragged his beaten father from around the front of the villa. And the man with the hat and long cigar walked behind him. He had mean dark eyes under the brim of his hat and the presence of authority.

His father wept.

“Is this what you do to your boy? Look at him!” Rocco said.

Dominic’s father lifted his head. “He is my son. I do best by him! The best I can!” A stranger struck his father to the back of the head.

“Papa!” Dominic cried, stretching his arms to him. He’d never seen his father hurt, or weep. The sight of his father so wounded rocked him to his core. His limited understanding of the events only added to his terror. Who were these men? Why did they hurt his father?