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I touch the gold cross that always adorns my neck and close my eyes, playing the part of a good Catholic woman. “Of course, mother. I’ve spoken to Father at church about what is expected of me. Don’t worry, I’m fully prepared and if we’re lucky, the Lord will bless us with a child to solidify this family.” My Dad thought acting classes as a child were a waste of money but from the smile on my mother’s face right now I’m going to say it was money well spent.
Everyone takes their seats and we pass our plates around the table and fill them with homemade ziti, salad and breadsticks. There’s even wine being passed too. Thank God for that, seriously. I grab my wine glass and take a sip of the dark red merlot, reveling in the taste. I’m gonna need a couple glasses to survive the night.
“So, I’m betting there’s a lot of pressure on Carla here.” Enzo speaks up, looking to my father, who is his stepfather. Mother had Enzo from a prior marriage.
“Yes, there is.” My dad looks over to me, “She knows not to screw anything up too. There’s a lot riding on this union.” His tone of voice is callous, sounding more business oriented than being a father.
I take in a deep breath, afraid that would happen.
“Are you alright, Stefano? You sound like you could kill her if this wedding doesn’t go forward.” Enzo adds, staring right at him. I keep my eyes trained on my father but see the way Sal is balling his hand into a fist across from me.
“I would never kill my own daughter.” Dad says, not being convincing at all.
“Yeah, he’d pay someone to do it.” Gianni adds, laughing his ass off from next to me.
I whip my hand up and slap him across the face. “Carlotta!” My mother shrieks, looking to Gianni. “Are you okay, sweetheart? Your sister will give me a stroke. I swear!”
Gianni may have only been trying to be funny, but I seriously doubt it. Our father is capable of doing horrible things. We’re lucky because we don’t see it most of the time. However, I’m not a naïve woman.
“What is the matter with you, Salvatore?” Father asks my brother, who is obviously clenching his jaw.
Sal sucks in a breath before he begins speaking, “I’m not a fan of the way you’re using Carla for our families gain. It reminds me too much of what happened to Aria. It sickens me.”
“I’m not anything like Baptiste, son. If you think that, you can get out of my house right now.”
Salvatore remains quiet for a moment but stands up abruptly. “You are like him, father. You only go about it in a different way. We’re just lucky here. We’re all so fucking lucky that she’s marrying Philippe.” Sal walks out of the dining room and I get out of my chair and follow him to the front door.
“Sal.” I mutter.
He continues to open the door and walks out of it. I continue behind him, shutting the door so no one can overhear our conversation. “Salvatore!” I grumble out.
He turns back to look at me, anger coursing through him. “I love you, you little bratty shit. I’m letting my anger get the best of me and I’m sorry. This hits me too close to home.” He comes up to me, gives me a hug and kisses me on the cheek before he tears himself away and goes to his car.
I stand outside and watch him go down our driveway. Jesus. Right now I’m only wondering if my family will recover from this shit.
