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"I understand how it might come across to an outsider," my grandmother murmurs, "but make no mistake, we have each other’s backs." She holds my gaze, "And you are one of us now,ciccino bello."
"That means my wonderful grandson," Luca explains.
"I gathered," I say wryly. "So," I turn to the older woman, "you are my grandmother?"
"You can call me Nonna." She pats my hand.
"Nonna," I murmur, "you are clearly a woman to be reckoned with."
"Oh, phst," she waves her free hand in the air, "the way you turn on that charm effortlessly, you remind me of my husband…god rest his soul," she releases my arm to cross herself, "before he decided to stray from our marriage."
"Ah," I close my mouth which I, only now, realize has fallen open, "is that good or bad? Not your husband straying from his marriage, but the fact that I remind you of him," I hasten to clarify.
"It’s good," she laughs. "He was a rake, but damn, if he wasn’t charismatic. I fell for him the moment I met him, and stayed married to him until he died."
"You didn’t kill him, did you?" I ask only half-jokingly.
She fixes me with that gimlet eye of hers, "I knew you were smart." She laughs.
"Eh?" I scowl, "So, you did…off him?"
"Not me, personally, but his enemies did finally get to him."
"Are you telling me you had a hand in it?"
"Now, now, I am not the kind to kiss and tell, if you get my drift." She cackles.
That headache pounding behind my eyes turns up a notch. And I thoughtIhad a bloodthirsty background? Hanging out with the Sovranos gives a whole new perspective on the meaning of'nearer the blood the bloodier,'as someone—whose name is inconsequential— once remarked.
"You’ve gone pale." Nonna’s sharp gaze instantly spots my discomfort. "Do you need your painkillers?"
"No," I shake my head, then wince when the hammers behind my head turn up the intensity of their drumming. "No more painkillers."
"The man’s as obstinate as the rest of you," Nonna says in an affectionate voice.
I feel my eyelids flutter down and force them open. "I want to make it very clear that I am not one of you."
"I think the man protests too much," Seb murmurs. "Why don’t you get some shut-eye, eh?"
As they turn to leave, I call out, "Seb?"
He turns.
"I need your help."
He walks over to me, "What is it?"
"Can you get me a pack of cigarettes and a lighter?"
"Smoker, eh?"
I raise a shoulder.
"You're aware this is a hospital and smoking is not allowed, right?"
I gape at him and he bursts out laughing, "Relax. The rules don't apply to the Cosa Nostra. I'll get it for you."
He pivots on his heels, then hesitates, and leaves.
