Page 25 of Mafia’s Final Play

“Sounds like a good idea. Won’t that register her in a system, though?” Anton pointed this out with a cringe, and Matteo understood why. What a thing to remind his boss of when he was worried about his wife.

“It probably would. Damn. We might have to take that chance. I think she’s starting to get freaked out about it.”

“We’ll get her down there, then.” Anton came to sit at the table, a cup of coffee in hand. “To ease your mind too.”

“Maybe it’s for the best. She needs to know. Worrying will only make it worse.”

“You’re right.” Anton sighed and his face schooled into understanding.

“I think I’ll have a nap myself. I’ll be upstairs if she wakes up.” Matteo stood up from the table but turned back to his employee and friend. “Thanks for everything, Anton.”

“My pleasure, boss.” Anton nodded and got up to check the pot as the lid began to vibrate on top of it.

Matteo went in to check on Marie before he went up to bed and saw that she was still asleep. Her dark hair fanned out behind her in a long, silky wave down her back - one of the things about her that he loved. She could cut it if she wanted to, but he knew she’d only ever have it trimmed, because she knew he liked it.

She was as generous with him as she could be, and for her, that meant she gave him every part of herself that she could. Her face was relaxed and peaceful, so he decided to leave her alone and went up to their bedroom. He slipped into a pair of pajamas and then into the bed. He found something to watch on television that looked boring enough to fall asleep to, and didn’t fight the weight of his eyes.

Later that evening, he woke up and as he went down the stairs he heard Anton and Marie talking. They were laughing about a story he was telling her, something from his childhood that had her in fits of giggles. It was good to hear her laugh like that, so delighted and childlike. He knew she was happy at that moment and that was better medicine than just about anything.

He stood there for a second, thinking. He’d gone to a private school in New York and then to a prestigious university. He knew doctors all over the world, he’d contact them if it turned out Marie had Parkinson’s. They’d probably know the latest treatments as several of them still contributed to scientific journals. Why hadn’t he thought about that before, he wondered, but dismissed it. Stress of his own was starting to impact him.

He yawned as he started to work his way back down the stairs. It was nice to be relaxed for once, even if he was still on guard. Over the last few days, it had become obvious that they’d know if an intruder came anywhere near the house, especially after the incident with the bear. The sound of those two laughing together in the kitchen was… nice. He’d like more evenings like that.

“And what are you two in here laughing about? Was I snoring that loudly?” He walked up to the fridge to grab a bottle of wine to go with dinner and looked at the pair of them. Marie was still in a fit of giggles and Anton’s face was a mixture of mirth and guilt.

“No. I told her about the time I fell down a roof I was trying to repair when I was younger, and how my pants got stuck on a nail. I hung there for hours, calling out for anyone to notice. Only nobody heard me and I was up there, dangling for hours before my pants finally tore and I plopped down into a pile of snow.”

“Sounds like you were saved then. And like there was more to the story that I need to know.” He pulled the cork out of the wine as Anton filled three bowls and brought them over. He went back for a basket full of hot garlic bread and brought that over too.

Anton started to retell the story to Matteo, who had never heard it, mainly because Anton just didn’t talk about his childhood or anything personal really. But what Matteo paid attention to was how Anton reacted to Marie. She’d drawn him out of his shell, made him feel at home, and got him talking. She was special like that. She could draw stuff out of you and make you feel… good about yourself. It amazed him, it pleased him, and as he took a hunk of bread and dipped it into his goulash, he wondered what other amazing things she had in store for them.

12

“It looks like we’ll be spending our anniversary indoors,” Marie said to him as he came out of the office and into the living room. A long tan sectional sofa ran along the length of one wall and she was cuddled up under a blanket, staring out of the large picture window behind it. The sun was all but down now, the floodlights outside the only illumination once it disappeared completely. Anton had put the floodlights up yesterday, just to add another layer of visibility and security.

He could see large fluffy flakes falling from the gray sky above, loading onto the newly melted snow that had turned the ground sloshy the day before. Now, that layer was ice and the snow that fell on top of it would keep it that way.

“We got out yesterday for more food, at least.” He joined her on the couch and put her feet in his lap. “We’ll go out once the snow has cleared if you’d like to. What would you like to do?”

“Dinner and a movie,” she said after some thought. “I’ve never been to a movie theater.”

“What?” Matteo asked, surprised. “I mean, I know your mom was poor, but she never even took you to a matinee?”

“What’s that?” Marie asked, her face scrunched up as she tried to think of what the word meant.

“It’s an early showing of the movies at the cinema, usually during the day, on the weekends, where it’s cheaper to go in.” He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that she’d never been to the movies. “You’ve never had buttered popcorn or nacho cheese while you sit in a room full of people with a large, overly-priced, and watered-down, huge drink of soda in a cupholder at your side?”

“No, but it sounds terrible. I’ve had popcorn here with you, and stuff like that back home, but not in a real theater.”

“Then that’s what you shall have, my love. Once the roads have cleared again.”

The weather was still off and on up there, even after two more weeks in the mountains. It would be bad when the weather changed for good, he thought. They’d have to buy groceries for a month at a time instead of days or a week at a time.

If they were still up here, that is.

“You don’t mind that we can’t go out tonight?” he asked her, his head propped on his right arm as he looked at her.

“Not at all. I’m still spending it with you, aren’t I?”