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“Grazia.” He whispered her name. “She’s innocent, I know, but she is a Caputo no less. I know you were fond of her.”
“You could say that.” I answered him with irony. Grazi was the blood in my veins.
“So was I. She was so sweet and beautiful, like her mother. Grazia would have been good for you, son, if not for her father. You know I’m right.”
“Listen to me…” but he didn’t. Instead, he slammed his fist on the desk, making my cognac glass rattle. He still had some strength left in him.
“You can’t mix your blood with those who killed your mother. Remember what Fabiano did to me, Salvatore.Heput her in the ground. Your mother! My Christina… my…” Just like that, I’ve lost him. Once my mother came up in a conversation, father was more consumed with her memory than anything else, but I still had a few things to make clear.
I finished my glass and got up on my feet, knocking on the desk to get his attention.
“I won’t hate Grazia for something Fabiano Caputo did and neither will you.”
“Stay away from her. Look at history, boy. There’s no war that’s worth fighting for a woman.”
The old man got some nerve to school me when he would have moved mountains for my mother. He would have fought wars, maybe even worse, for a woman who wasn’t even completely his.
“Go to sleep, Father. You need it.” I turned around and left him with the memory of his wife.
Chapter 8
MyPas de Basquewas wobbly and Miss Rosa wasn’t pleased with it. I didn’t know what it was, but I couldn’t engage the muscles of my legs to do what I was telling them to. I blamed it all on Salvatore and his stupid distractions. Ever since he took me to our spot, something in me has never recovered. That night, the past four years seemed just a bad dream and we were us again – two kids in love. Not betrothed, not broken apart, not mafia – just Grazia and Salvatore. He gave me a few hours when I didn’t carry the weight of the family honor on my shoulders and he wasn’t the son of a thief. Nothing has felt quite the same ever since. Whatever I did, my mind would turn back to those moments and on top of that, I was exhausted because every night I woke up looking for Salvatore in the bed and the disappointment of not finding him there kept me awake for many hours.
The feeling of waking up alone was a million times worse now that I knew it was over. I saw him everywhere, at every damn corner. The memories were overwhelming and I couldn’t focus on anything else. I needed some room to breathe. I needed to put something between Salvatore and I and for the first time, dance wasn’t enough to keep me focused.
“Grazia!” Miss Rosa’s voice boomed through the studio along the sound of her cane tapping the wooden floor.
“Yes,Madame.”
“I’ve trained you for years. I’ve seen you dance so beautifully, the gates of Heaven would open for you so why –oh, why!– are you moving like an amateur doing a flash mob at the mall?” By the end of the question, she was screaming. Miss Rosa was harsh and she was never shy to give me a piece of her mind, but it was fine. I was used to it and right now, I knew I needed it.
“I’m sorry,Madame.”
“You should be. Today was embarrassing.”
“I’m just… my head is not into it.”
“Is this it? Are you done?”
“What?”
“I was wondering when this moment will come. I have to say, I’m disappointed, but it happens.”
“Madame, what are you talking about?”
“You’re on your way to quitting.”
“Quitting ballet? I would never…”
She didn’t let me finish. “No? You don’t take it seriously anymore. Look at you, spinning around like a child with two left feet after all the years I’ve spent training you.”
“I’m off today, that’s all.”
“You’re going to keep being off until you take your dancing out of this theatre.” Was this about me going to Milano again?
“Madame, Palermo is my home. My family is here.”
“Then don’t call yourself a ballerina. Ballerinas, Grazia, are made for the stage, not for the eyes of their loved ones.” Miss Rosa shook her head. “I’ve taught so many girls who would have killed to have your grace and your skill. You’re the only one that gave me hope that you’ll shine one day. It’s a shame.”
