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My legs shook, and I had to sit down. I cursed myself for not being able to hold it together. I’d been living this lie for years, but with everything that was happening, I could feel the cracks starting to form. All because of her. The offspring of the woman I’d loathed for years. How was it she was being welcomed back into the family circle? Where was Greta, and why hadn’t she had her kicked off the land again? What the hell was happening? My memory was still scarred from the last time I’d been this unnerved.
I knew I wasn’t welcomed by Bosco’s mama. She made that very clear the day her son announced me to the family and told them I was carrying his child, but they didn’t have much time to digest it, as it was only a few days later I gave birth to our son.
I held our little boy in my arms and gently stroked his forehead as he stared up at me. He was gorgeous for only being a few hours old. His dark eyes and long lashes would make the women swoon one day. I was exhausted after fourteen hours of labor and wished I could get into a shower, but there was no way I could move.
“Knock knock.” Andrea’s more than annoying voice was like a cheese grater on my last nerve. “There are a lot of people out here who would love to meet this little man.”
“Sure,”I hate you, “come in.”
That was the problem with giving birth at the family home. There wasn’t any damn crowd control. It was a free for all, they could all come and go whenever they wanted. Was it too much to ask for a little quiet and some damn sleep?
“May I?” Andrea waited for permission with her arms outstretched. I swallowed back the comment on the end of my tongue and handed him to her. I felt like I was handing him over to the enemy. I was barely tolerated; would he even be accepted? “Hello there, little one.” She looked at Bosco with tears in her eyes. “He’s beautiful, Bosco, just perfect.” She sniffed, and I relaxed a fraction of a hair. “Elio, come meet your cousin, Niccola.”
Piero lifted Elio up to see him better.
“Baby.” Elio pointed at my son, and everyone nodded like he’d just solved the world’s hardest math problem. I had to roll my eyes, but I was glad they didn’t seem to reject my son. If only I’d gotten pregnant sooner, this situation would have been so different. Niccola would have been first born then, and his role would have been much better. I knew he’d never be the Don, as that was Piero’s role, but Niccola would have been older and wiser than little King Elio. “My baby?” the little king asked.
“No, Uncle Bosco and Aunt Noemi’s baby,” Piero corrected him, and Elio looked at me with a smile then wiggled out of his father’s arms and ran toward Francesco, who was, as usual, watching quietly from the back of the room. He did that a lot, and it creeped me out.
“Welcome to the family,” Greta said as she popped out of nowhere along with that slimy Abramo. She handed something to Bosco and kissed his cheeks.
“Thanks, Mama.”
“I will move in and help raise him,” she announced, and I felt like the world just turned black. I stared at Bosco to try to burn my thoughts into his head, but he just nodded at her once and didn’t have the balls to say, ‘Hell no. Are you kidding me? No, no way is she going to move in with us. I forbid it.’ “I have everything prepped. We’ll start renovations tomorrow.” Greta smiled.
“Mrs. Greta,” I cleared my throat, “that’s very kind of you, but are you sure you want to live in the same house as a newborn? I mean, they cry and keep you up at night, and…”
She glared at me along with the rest of them. You’d think I’d just cursed the Pope or something.
“Would I have offered if I thought I couldn’t handle it?”
You didn’t offer, you announced.
“I suppose not,” I gritted through my teeth, and Bosco shot me a warning to shut up.
“Tomorrow, nine a.m.,” she tossed over her shoulder and left the room.
Great, all I needed was Elenora to show up, and my hell would be complete.
My heart lodged in my throat as I pulled myself back to the present. I heard Sienna’s voice grow louder. They must be finished. How long had I sat there? I leapt to my feet, grabbed my purse, and ran to my car. I decided I’d go back to the city where I could blend in and breathe.
As I sat outside, at my favorite table at Bagni Lido, the soothing ocean sounds calmed my wild thoughts. I ordered a seafood platter and sipped a glass of prosecco. I began to feel a strange pull and looked about. It felt as if someone was watching me. I slipped on a pair of sunglasses and let my gaze go over the few faces that were around me. I didn’t recognize anyone, but a chill went over me as a shadow was thrown across the table from behind me. The sound of his polyester pants told me who it was before I even looked at his face.
“We need to talk.” He sat across from me, and I glared at him.
“You might as well wrap yourself in reflective tape and blow a whistle to announce you’re here, Hector.”
“I think it’s time.” He dismissed my tone.
“It’s not.”
“Why?”
“Because even looking at your face upsets me.”
“This face?” He removed his sunglasses, and I looked away, unable to control my anger. “I never asked for this.”
“Neither did I,” I snickered, “yet here we are.”
