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“I’ll come with you,” Enzo’s mom says, sliding out of her seat.
We walk down the hallway and round the corner.
“Mrs. Russo…” I begin. I know she took Ken’s surname when they remarried, and Enzo also changed his name as well.
“Yes, honey?” she says, linking her arm through mine.
“I’m so sorry this happened to him. The guy was after me as some kind of revenge on the family…” I bring my hands up to my face. “It should have been me, Mrs. R…”
“Shhh.” She stops and looks at me and takes my face between her hands. “Don’t talk like that, sweetheart. Enzo loves you. I know what’s been going on between you two. He would never want any harm to come to you, Valentina.”
I stare at her and blink several times. She knows about us. So, he must’ve talked to her about me and him?
“But you don’t understand…”
“Oh, I understand perfectly.” She smiles kindly, and I honestly don’t know how she’s holding it together.
A tiny smile forms on my lips. His warmth comes from her, it’s obvious. I see so much of him in her smile.
“How can you be so calm at a time like this?” I ask her as we stop by the vending machine.
She sighs and looks at the ground momentarily. “I’m anything but that. I’ve dreaded the day anything like this should happen. It used to scare the wits out of me when he was private investigating. It’s all so dangerous, and now being more involved in the mafia side of things.” She whispers themafiapart.
I understand anything to do with the mob would have any parent worried, even though we have all grown up together.
“There’s always that risk.” I sigh. “I hate it at times, to be honest.”
“This whole business that’s gone down with Angelo recently in the press, and now this. It just really reminds us of what is important, to all of us, and that is family, Valentina.”
“It’s been a rough few weeks,” I admit. “But if anyone can pull through this, it’s Enzo. We have to believe it.”
She puts an arm around me and hugs me close. “We have to pray, my sweet child, we have to pray that he gets through this.”
“There’s a chapel here in the hospital,” I say, if she’s actually serious.
She nods. “I think it would help.” She gives me a small smile and we skip the coffee and walk through the hospital to the chapel.
We take a seat in one of the pews. It’s late, so there is nobody else around. We don’t say anything, we just sit in prayer, and I squeeze my eyes shut as I lean forward and rest my clasped hands to my forehead.
Sometime later, I feel, rather than hear, a presence, and my eyes flick open.
I glance behind me to see Angelo leaning against the doorway.
Enzo’s mom pats my knee and gives me a hug before she gets up quietly to leave. She’s actually an amazing woman and does not seem to hold any animosity toward any of us over what’s happened to her son. Maybe she has become used to the ins and outs of mafia life over the years, but nothing this serious has ever happened to Enzo before.
She pats Angelo’s arm on her way out and he walks toward me slowly.
I haven’t even had time to get mad at him for what happened earlier, and for punching Enzo. His eyes tell me that he’s searching for some kind of reckoning, and I hope to God they didn’t end things on a bad note when they drove to the warehouse together.
He slides into the pew seat next to me. “We need to talk,” he says quietly.
I swallow hard and tears already spring to my eyes. “Angelo, if something happens to him, if he doesn’t pull through, what am I going to do?”
“It’s in God’s hands now, V, we have to believe that. They had him stabilized in the ambulance. That’s a good sign. He’s a strong man, the strongest person I know. And I… I wanted to talk to you about the other things.”
I sniff and fold my arms across my chest. “About what happened earlier when you found out about us?”
“Yes, that,” he says with a nod.
