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With the spoon still her mouth, she shook her head but smiled. “Sorry, go ahead.”
“They didn’t know I knew. They thought I’d be distracted and tried to further cripple my family’s influence back here in Chicago. After my mother’s death, the Irish and the Italians haven’t been…very close. They liked, trusted, and respect my father enough, and in honor of my mother, never stepped out of line. But when he passed and I took over, they were unsure of me…even more so now that I married you, a woman one hundred percent Irish-American.”
“I think my great-great-great grandmother was Scottish, though.”
The woman really can’t help herself, I thought, ignoring her comment. “They managed to spread a few rumors, and on top of that framed an Irish boy for the death of Italian boy.” Ivy opened her mouth to speak, but I gave her a look telling her that if she cut me off again I wasn’t going to move on. Frowning, she stuffed a spoonful of yogurt into her mouth. “However, before the Italian boy was murdered, Donatella apparently made a big show of things. She managed to figure out something was off…” I still didn’t know how. My best guess was Tobias must have slipped up, let his guard down somehow.
“And then she herself killed Savino as well Tobias at the airport,” Ivy spoke again, and when I simply stared back at her, no longer speaking, she frowned so hard it looked like her lip was trying to escape off her face. “You weren’t saying anything; I was just trying push the conversation along before you disappeared to the dark corners of your mind again.”
“It’s called thinking.”
“You think too much,” she muttered, leaning forward to stick a few grapes into my mouth. “It can’t be healthy.”
“It’s kept me alive this long,” I replied before chewing.
“So, what’s happening today?”
Today was Dona’s victory party. “Dona is hosting what she claims is Wyatt's welcome home brunch. However, that’s just a cover which serves multiple purposes. The first is to show all of us she succeeded in not only keeping peace in Chicago, but gained the respect of both the Irish and the Italians families. The second and most important purpose is to show the world we, the Callahans, are not only united and unbreakable, but also both Irish and Italian…hence her choice of attire,” I said nodding over to the clothes which were displayed just at the corner of our bed. “Each one of us dressed in some color of either the Irish or Italian flags.”
Myself in grey and Ivy in red.
“United, unbreakable, both Irish and Italian,” she whispered to herself. “She’s warning them…basically saying don’t fuck with the Callahan family—”
“Us,” I cut her off, just as she had done me. And when her eyes met mine, I reminded her. “You are Ivy Callahan.”
My wife.
“Don’t fuck with us.” She smiled, but it was only for an instant, before she looked back to the clothes.
“I know you’re tired but—”
“I'm not tired,” she said quickly, finally looking away from the clothes to me. “Your sister scares me a little.”
“That’s the reaction most people have when they get to know her. She prefers it that way.”
“This will sound awful and selfish,” she said slowly, and I nodded for her to continue. “After hearing about your mother from you and others and then getting her letter, I was a little relieved she wasn't here because I knew she'd think I wasn't good enough, and be the type of monster-in-law you see in movies."
It was a selfish thing to say, but I didn't fault her for her honesty. I didn't really think I could fault her for anything today.
Bloody shite… I sound like my father.
“But,” she went on, “after yesterday, I'm sure your mother would have been easier to deal with.”
No, she wouldn't have been. “Why do you think so?”
She sat up straighter on the bed as she spoke, “Yesterday, the look in her eyes… I didn't get it then, but it hit me just now. She killed her lover… She did it without hesitation, without shedding a single tear. She did it…because she is used to sacrificing for this family. It's second nature to her…so when I tried to step in front her, she put me in place… She was telling me I hadn't sacrificed enough, I hadn't suffered enough to stand in front of her and demand anything. I feel like I have to prove myself to her, get her respect…me, of all people! And I generally don’t give a shit about what other people think of me; isn't that scary?”
“Terrifying.” I smirked, watching as she went back to eating happily, but not telling her the real reason Dona was terrifying… How this celebration wasn’t just a warning to outsiders but to the rest of the family as well.
Today we’d wear what she wanted us to wear.
Eat what she wanted us to eat.
&nb
sp; Say what she wanted us to say.
Because her message was clear… In an instant, if she wanted to, she could destroy us all.
