by Rye Hart
“I miss Dad,” I said breathlessly.
“I know, my dear,” he said as he kissed my forehead. “We all do. Two years and it still hurts as much as the day I got that phone call. The only thing that gives me solace is that he’s with your mother now. And I know he missed her very much.”
I sniffled into his chest before I pulled back. I felt weak, crying to him like that. It had been years since my mother had died. Cancer that couldn’t be solved by traditional medical practices. It ate my father alive, watching her die like that. It ate all of us alive.
“Buy yourself something. That always helped your mother,” Stefano said.
I snickered and shook my head as I stepped out of his office.
“Thank you, Uncle. I’ll be back in a little bit.”
“Take your time,” he said. “Matteo’s in good hands.”
I picked up my purse by the front door and left the house. The driver my uncle hired offered to take me somewhere, but I wanted to be alone. I wanted to process things on my own. I drove into town and parked along the curb, then slowly started walking around downtown, amidst all the high-rise buildings and the shops with all their brightly-lit signs. New York City was a place that always captured my imagination. If I ever felt downtrodden or lost, I could walk around its streets and go home refreshed and energized.
And that was exactly what I needed.
I walked in and out of shops, finding nothing in particular that I wanted to purchase. But walking through the racks of clothing and seeing all the shop mannequins made me smile. I didn’t need material possessions. I’d always been more of a window shopper. I was more prone to spending hundreds of dollars on a decadent meal before I’d ever spend it on clothes.
Though I was quick to sink that kind of money into Matteo’s wardrobe.
I found myself in Times Square, looking up at all the colorful billboards advertising new television shows and Broadway stage plays. Times Square was my favorite place to be at night. There was an unexplainable magic to it. Most people thought low-lit restaurants and silken cloth-covered tables was romantic, but not me. Put me in the middle of Times Square with people smiling and laughing and enjoying themselves, and I was in heaven.
But a familiar voice pulled me from my thoughts and sent fear shooting down my spine.
“Julia?”
I turned around at the sound of Romeo’s mother. My eyes fell on her as she approached me with a smiling face. No one would ever think the woman was almost sixty years old. Her face was almost wrinkle-free, and her tanned skin made her blue eyes shine. Her dark brown hair had a salt-and-pepper look, and it hung down past her shoulders. Her hips were wide from giving birth, and her shoulders were strong from supporting the kind of family she did. Her eyes were forward, but her smile was kind, and she was everything that reminded me of my own mother.
I guess it came with the territory of the men they married.
“Mrs. Martine. What are you—”
“Please, call me Luisa,” she said.
“Luisa,” I said with a soft smile. “What brings you out to Times Square?”
“I needed to get out a bit. Get some fresh air after everything that happened.”
“I’m surprised you’re not with Romeo right now,” I said.
“I was. He kicked me out. Said I was hovering too much. But little does he know that Antony is sitting in the driveway in a car right now.”
“He’s what?” I asked with a grin.
“Yep. I slipped an old baby monitor under Romeo’s bed. Antony has the other end of it. If something happens to Romeo, his brother will be there to help him.”
“You never stop being a mother do you? No matter how old the babies get,” I said.”
“You are right about that she said with a smile. “I was about to go get some coffee. Would you like to join me?”
I looked behind me at the coffee shop Luisa was referring to, but I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. There was something in the way she looked at me; like she knew my deepest, darkest secret. Did she know about Romeo and me? What we were doing and what we were trying to accomplish?
Did she know about Matteo?
I didn’t want to sit down and have coffee with her. This wasn't prompted or scheduled. And I didn’t want to ruin anyone’s plans. I knew Stefano was closely orchestrating this idea of peace, and an impromptu conversation could ruin all of it. Plus, it was Matteo’s grandmother, and there was a chance she didn’t even know she was a grandmother. And if she did know, then she might try to corner me and get me to admit it.
There were so many things that could go wrong with this cup of coffee, but I couldn't say no. Even as a child, Luisa had always been kind to me. Accepting of me despite who my father was. There were many times I’d come over to see Romeo when I was first crushing on him, and she let me in without a second thought. Fed me. Allowed me to stay as long as I wanted.
She knew.
There was no way she didn’t know about Romeo and me.
“Come along,” Luisa said. “I won’t bite.”
She took my arm and linked it with hers before we started for the coffee shop. I gripped my purse tightly and looked around, trying to see if anyone was watching us. With the antics she was pulling on Romeo while out, I couldn’t put it past my uncle to do the same thing. To have someone watching me in case something went wrong.
“One cup of black coffee and whatever this young woman wants,” Luisa said.
“Oh no. I can get it,” I said as she fished for her wallet.
“And throw one of those pastrami sandwiches of yours into the mix,” she said. “Are you hungry, Julia?”
I actually was.
“Um, could I get a medium caramel coffee with creamer and a small chicken salad?” I asked.
The woman at the cash register rang us up. Luisa was insistent on paying. We stood and waited for our order, silence falling between us. I felt odd around her, awkward, like I was still a love-struck teenager. She was a comforting presence during this confusing and trying time. Our orders came up, and I grabbed both of our trays, then she ushered us to a booth in the back.
Always the booth in the back with our families.
“So,” Luisa said as she sat down, “find anything good in the shops?”
“I’m more of a window shopper,” I said. “Though I saw a—”
I stopped my sentence and caught myself as Luisa unwrapped her sandwich. I was going to tell her about a toy I’d seen for Matteo a couple of blocks back.
It was so easy to talk to her.
She’d be a wonderful grandmother to him.
“You saw a what?” Luisa asked.
“A, um, pair of shoes a few blocks back,” I said. “I’m not one for heels, but I think I’d make an exception for the pair I saw.”
“I have no idea how women wear those kinds of heels nowadays. I could hardly tolerate two-inch heels in my prime! Watching some of these women walk around with their feet propped up so high? It makes my knees hurt.”
“Trust me, I know what you mean. I stick with flats and sandals. I’ve got two pairs of heels. That’s it. I can hardly walk in them, too. I still don’t know why I purchased them.”
“Well, maybe one day you’ll go out on a proper date and have a use for them,” she said.
“I’m not much of a dater,” I said.
“Romeo would like the sound of that.”
I almost choked on my salad as she took another bite of her sandwich.
“Come again?” I asked.
“Julia, can I be frank?”
My heart was slamming heavily inside my chest.
“Of course, you can,” I said.
“Romeo cares for you,” she said.
I furrowed my brow as I took a sip of my coffee.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Romeo has always cared for you. He did when the two of you were teenagers sneaking out in the middle of the night, and he does now.”
I choked on my c
offee and grabbed my napkin. I sputtered the remnants into the fabric as a grin spread across Luisa’s cheeks. I was terrified. Was this leading into a conversation about Matteo? I needed to get out of this situation. I knew this wasn’t a good idea. I didn’t know how I was going to field this if she point-blank asked me about my son.
“It’s a mother’s intuition,” Luisa said as I wiped my mouth off. “When you started coming over more frequently, I had a feeling something was going on. I saw how Romeo smiled whenever you were around, and I knew. Though it wasn’t until I caught him sneaking in one night that my suspicions were confirmed.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“Why? It was ages ago. Young love. I know how it goes,” she said.
“I hate to be blunt, but why are you telling me this?” I asked.
“Julia, I want to tell you a story.”
“Okay.”
“Many, many years ago, there was a young girl that lived in a small village just in Sicily. She was the only girl of nine children, and her family worked her to the bone. In the kitchen. Out with the cows. Working the pastures and the farmland she lived on. She was hardly educated, could barely read, and had no prospects of going anywhere,” she said.
“What happened?” I asked.
“One day, some people came into town Knocking on doors and asking for places to stay. Some of the people asking had guns on their hips and others were wearing wonderful suits made of silky fabrics this young village girl had never laid her eyes on before. She watched her father open his front door to one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen. And her mother tasked her with taking care of this man and whatever he needed until he left.”
“Just anything he needed?” I asked.
“Oh yes. Food. Blankets. An ear to listen. Drinks. Anything he could possibly want. She was to wash his clothes in nothing but some soft soap and cold water in a basin before hanging them out to dry. She was to change his sheets on her bed while she slept on the couch. She gave up everything to make sure this man was comfortable, and he stayed for a very long time.”
“How long? Who were they?” I asked.
“Almost a month. Though the girl didn’t know until his third week that everyone else had left.”
“What do you mean?”
“All of the people in the village had done their duty to take care of these men and shipped them back off. But he stayed at this girl’s house twice as long as he should have.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because he fell in love with her. Why else?”
“What happened to them?” I asked. “Did you know them?”
“Very well. The man sat her down and had a long talk with her about how a life in America could lead her from the life of servitude she was living. It appalled her to even think about leaving her family, much less the insinuation that she was serving her family instead of living among them. But she was entranced by him. He spoke of houses four times bigger than the one she was living in and food sprawled out on a table that she didn’t have to cook. Amounts of money she could never dream of and days where she could sleep until noon if she wanted.”
“What did the girl say?” I asked.
“She thought he was joking, but he wasn’t. He went to her father and asked for her hand, and her father was more than happy to get rid of her. In that girl’s village, it was hard having a daughter. The father had to oversee marrying her off and making sure she didn’t shame the family. And if the daughter couldn’t produce children, it was in the man’s right to give her back. With a daughter, a father was stuck with the possibility that he would take care of her forever. But when that man approached her father and talked about taking her away to America, he jumped at the chance.”
“That’s terrible,” I said.
“That girl was me, Julia.”
I dropped my fork, and it clattered against my tray.
“What?” I asked flatly.
“That was me. And that man was Romeo’s father. He took me away from my village and my family, and part of me hated him for it. And when I figured out the kind of work he was involved in, I grew scared of him. I was a small Sicilian girl, no older than nineteen, living with a man who was almost thirty. And despite his kindness, I despised him. But do you know what he did for me?”
“What?” I asked.
“He gave me space and time to process. And when I was ready to accept the life that my father had chosen for me, he was there. He taught me how to read and bought me an entire library of books. He never pressured me into having children. He told me that whenever I was ready, he would be there. We courted. We dated. And despite his lifestyle, I fell in love with him. Despite the business and despite how he first came into my life and despite the anger I felt toward my father for shoving me off onto another man, I fell in love with him. Despite our completely different worlds, he fell in love with me, too.”
I felt tears brewing in my eyes as my gaze fell to my lap.
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked breathlessly.
But I knew.
I knew why she was telling me.
“I’m telling you because I understand. And I want you to know I understand. I wanted no part of the lifestyle my husband led, but I did love him despite it. I loved him too much not to marry him when he asked me for my hand. He gave me so much, but I also gave in return. I gave him my heart and my support. I gave him my late nights when I needed to help him clean up after a job. Not because I approved of what he did, but because I loved him more than anything else on this planet. He was my life, Julia. Not the mafia. And the two can be separated.”
I lifted my finger and wiped away my tears.
She knew.
She knew everything.
“My son cares about you. I’d go so far as to say he still loves you. And he cares for that boy, Julia.”
“My gosh, you know,” I said in a whisper.
“There’s very little I don’t know, so I want you to listen to me.”
I lifted my watery gaze to hers, my food and coffee long forgotten about.
“Romeo has a good heart. A kind heart. And I can tell you for a fact that he’s trying to take the family business in a right direction, because I was the one that advised him on it. I was the one that convinced him to take his father’s place once my husband passed, and turn the business away from what my husband had made it.”
My jaw dropped open as a tear rushed down my cheek.
“You?” I asked. “You made him do this?”
“I didn’t make him do anything. Romeo is his own man. But I knew if anyone could turn the life of our family around, it was him. You have it on my authority—as a mother and a grandmother—that Romeo is true to his word. He is trying to turn things around for this family. And I know he can do it.”
“I know he has a kind heart,” I said. “I’ve always known that. But obstacles are standing in our way that I can’t ignore. I have to protect Matteo. I’m his mother, Luisa.”
“And I wouldn’t expect you to do anything differently. But I do think you’ve convinced yourself that those obstacles can’t be overcome.”
“I don’t think they can,” I said.
“That is where you’re wrong,” she said. “The things you think are standing in your way? They’re minor annoyances compared to what his father and I went through. And we made it work.”
“I can’t be a part of that world anymore,” I said. “My father fought to keep my son and me out of it and I won’t compromise that to make things work with your son. I won’t.”
“I’m not asking you to,” she said. “What I am asking of you is to not give up on him. To not give up on the idea of the peace he wants to achieve. That’s it. His father never gave up on me. And I’m asking you for the same. Don’t give up on Romeo because you can’t see through the fog just yet. Eventually, circumstances change, and the fog clears. All I’m asking you to do is wait until that moment.”
I reached for my coffee and took
a long pull before I drew in a deep breath.
“Does Romeo know this conversation is taking place?” I asked.
“No. I saw you standing on the sidewalk with your head in the clouds, and I figured it was an appropriate time to strike one up,” Luisa said.
“So when I came over to the house?”
“I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I knew things didn’t end well. Romeo can be stubborn, and sometimes he feels a little too much at times. He gets that from me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” I said.
“No, there isn’t. But you? You remind me a lot of my husband.”
“How so?”
“The way you only show your hand if it’s necessary. You're very reserved in the way you express yourself. My husband was like that. Those two temperaments make for good partners in life. My husband helped me to keep my emotions in check, and I helped him to be able to express his in a healthier way. And yes, I’m separating the man from the job with that statement.”
I cracked the first smile I’d felt in almost two days as I sat across the table from Romeo’s mother.
“Don’t give up on him, because I know he never gave up on you. And I know he never will. I saw the light in both of your eyes when you came into that house a couple of weeks ago. Whatever was there between the two of you as teenagers, it’s still there. Don’t let that flame burn out because it’s not good timing right now. Because that doesn’t mean it won’t be right in the future,” she said.
I looked at Luisa Martine and shook my head. “Thank you Louisa. I really appreciate you telling me all of that,” I said.
“You are most welcome, Julia. Just please promise me that you will think about what I said.”
I nodded. “I will, I promise,” I told her.
“Good, now won’t you please join me on a walk around the city? I’m not quite ready to head back home yet.” “You aren’t expected back or anything?” I asked
Luisa threw her head back and laughed.
“One thing you’ll come to find is that the Martine men might think they’re in charge, but really it’s the women standing behind them that are. Antony and Romeo? They’d flounder without me. I come and go as I please,” she said.
