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Twice?
Nah, fucking fuck that. That person would have been dead, dead, dead before they could get their hand within an inch of my face.
Yet if she’d sent that balled fist of hers into my face again I would have allowed her to do it, over and over again too, for the broken promise. I said I wouldn’t allow another man to touch her and I wouldn’t share her with anybody.
Last night crossed the line.
I gaze out to the little fountain ahead of me and watch the ducks swimming around. The receding sunlight casts a glow on them, making their feathers shimmer. Looking at them reminds me of days spent in Italy.
My family live in Tuscany by the beach. All that land there with the sea, the vineyard, and the scenic landscape is ours. Giordano land. I haven’t been in a while. It’s stupid that I haven’t. It’s fucked up because the place is like pure rejuvenation from the hectic lifestyle Chicago brings.
Rejuvenation sounds like a dream.
I don’t know what’s going to happen now. There’s so many that want my ass and I just keep making it worse.
Now I might have Antonella to worry about too.
He’s dangerous but he can’t touch me without the fear of me going to his family or his enemies. His particular tastes are not acceptable in his fold. The Antonellas are very old school and they don’t accept the modern. The man doesn’t just have one sub, he has a harem and he’s supposed to be married to one of the Manello sisters.
Me blabbing my mouth is enough to get him killed by his own people because the Antonellas and the Manello’s have been thick as thieves since the dawn of time.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket and I pull it out.
It’s Ma.
It’s her and I feel worse as I look at the phone buzzing in my hand and it stops then starts up again.
I know when she calls it’s because she thinks the worst has happened to me.
She probably thinks I’ve gone out and got myself killed. Or, that I’m lying in a fucking ditch somewhere.
I draw in a breath and answer the phone before it rings out again.
“Ma,” I say and because it’s the first I’ve spoken in hours my voice is hoarse.
“Nick, Jesus Christ,” she sighs and the line crackles on her breath. “What the hell is wrong with you? We’ve all been calling you. You ignored your father’s call?”
The question is valid because nobody does that. Not even Vincent but really he’s a brown-nosing asskisser when it comes to Pa. Like he wasn’t obviously going to be underboss and capo when Frankie was killed.
“Ma, I’m just answering you to let you know I’m okay.”
“Okay? Really?” She starts bitching at me in Italian, asking me if I couldn’t have called her earlier and talked out my problems like I’m some share-my-worries kind of guy. It’s times like this when I feel sorry for her because she has four sons and she clearly needs a daughter to talk that kind of shit with. Shit that’s not me and never has been.
“Ma, I gotta go,” I cut in.
“Nicky, your father knows about yesterday and he’s not happy about it.” Now she tells me that part. We’ve been talking for a good ten minutes with her blasting me and she gets to the part that I need to worry about most when I’m about to end the call.
“I figured,” is all I reply. “Ma, don’t ask me to explain myself. If you don’t know me now you never will. It’s been a month since Tommy was gunned down in his own home. His wife and baby were in the house. His wife and baby, Ma. He’s in the hospital now fighting for his life. I’m his best friend. I don’t owe anybody an explanation for what I do, and while I’m sorry Pa is pissed at me, needs must.”
She’s quiet for a few seconds. I know she gets it. I know she gets me. I know she knows I don’t give a shit who wants to be upset with me, I’m doing what I have to.
“Nick be careful. That’s all we want. Consider this, the fact that this is still all unresolved means a lot. Means we have to be careful. We don’t know what could happen next and the flames were fanned with Snade’s death.”
I heed her caution. I like what she says and I like that she knows.
We keep women out of business as much as the average mobster but Pa has his woman right beside him. He does things a little different to most. In the hierarchy of who’s who, she’s his consigliere. His most trusted advisor. It doesn’t make him weak. He says it makes him strong because of who she is to him. Maybe it’s why she puts up with his shit with women. It is what it is and I don’t try to understand it.
“Okay Ma,” I nod although she can’t see me. “Okay.”
