Shit just got suspicious.
He left his stick on the table and found his place beside me. “Nothing, Cara Mia.”
His hand snaked across my back, pulling me close as he and Westley stared at each other stupidly with matching grins. “No, seriously. Permission for what?” I asked again.
EXTENDED EPILOGUE
Maria gently pushed me out of the way, but I just stood beside her and peered over her shoulder to watch her work. “Everything has to be perfect.”
She turned back with an annoyed expression, silently telling me I was super close to getting yelled at, but I couldn’t help myself. Frankie’s father visiting always made me a wreck, and this visit was especially important. We’d fought about it for weeks.
“I know, Shiloh. Everything will be perfect for the father. You know I take my job seriously,” she said, giving me another clue I treaded in dangerous territory.
I stepped back and held my hands out. “Of course. We all know this house can’t run without you, but—”
“Everything has to be perfect,” she said, cutting me off and laying on the sarcasm particularly thick. “I know. I know.”
When I decided to stay with Frankie in Pelican Bay, I understood I was stepping into the crime world for the rest of my life. I’d already planned to do that for my cousin, so I wasn’t that concerned about the consequences. But I hadn’t stopped to think about how I’d also gain one feisty housekeeper. Or that one day I’d have a child with, Frankie and in following the family tradition, he would be forced to train to take over the Zanetti family based in Maine.
Only now did the consequences of those actions stare me in the face, and I panicked.
It was one thing for Frankie to be a part of the mob or even for my place that I took in the operation, but I didn’t want my son to follow in the family footsteps. The life was much too dangerous. They were mobsters, for fuck’s sake.
It was impossible to envision our sweet ten-year-old child as one day being a ruthless leader of the mob. Even if it wasn’t so harrowing a job when you were based in Pelican Bay and had a secret affiliation with the town’s police. There were always threats, and you could never prepare for everything even though we tried.
“The Godfather will be pleased,” Maria said, placing her hand on my shoulder. “You have done a good job raising your boy.”
That was sometimes a good thing and sometimes a bad thing. I was proud of the young man our son was becoming, but that also meant he would one day step into his role as family leader. I just couldn’t be happy about that part of the deal.
Maria continued with her work as I hovered over on the side, fretting about every minor detail we may have missed. Everything had to be absolutely perfect.
Two figures walking along the beach below the home caught my attention, and I stopped to stare at them. Frankie Junior stood only a foot shorter than his father. They walked alongside one another with the same gait, their feet packing the sand together under their steps. I didn’t need to be outside to feel the spray of the ocean waves as they beat along the shore.
Fall was rushing toward Pelican Bay once again and, as it seemed to happen every year, something important was about to hit us.
Later that evening, we’d celebrate our son’s tenth birthday and his acceptance as an in-training member of the Zanetti family. My heart filled with dread, happiness, horror, and acceptance as I sucked in a deep breath, trusting the process.
Frankie would never allow anything bad to happen, and he’d be right there as he raised Frankie Junior to be an honest, loyal, and formidable leader. It wasn’t always easy being married to a head in the Zanetti family, but even on the worst day, it was always worth it.
Frankie and our son turned toward the home, each of them waving to me when they spotted me in the window. I waved back and smiled. Tonight, we’d start a new chapter in our lives, but not much would change. Yet.
At the end of the day, we’d still be a family, and that mattered the most.
Frankie held open the back door, and I smiled, waiting for him to wrap his arm around my shoulders like he’d done for the last eleven years.
“Head upstairs and get changed, please,” Frankie said to our son. He left behind small piles of sand as he darted off toward the direction of his room. Maria followed behind him, sweeping up the mess.
“I swear, his feet attract sand.”
“It’s a little boy thing,” Frankie said with a laugh.
I squeezed Frankie tightly, not wanting to let go because that meant we were one step closer to initiation night. “Do you think he’ll be okay?” I asked what had been plaguing my conscience for hours.
Frankie simply nodded, staring up at the stairs where our son had just disappeared. “He’s going to do great, Cara Mia. He’s a Zanetti.”
“I know, but it’s a mom thing. To worry,” I said, clarifying. Nobody would ever tell me not to worry about my child.
Frankie led me into the kitchen, where he quietly opened the refrigerator door and popped the plastic topper off the cooled pie Maria had placed there that morning.
