I picked apart my pizza. “Do I...do I look like my mother?”
Sometimes I felt guilty about it, but my father rarely crossed my mind. I blamed him for getting my mother killed. He knew what kind of people the Scarpones were, and he still tried to take them over. Even when he was running, he was still plotting.
What hit me the hardest was the picture I found of him leaving the courthouse after the Scarpones had gotten him out of trouble, when they were still on good terms.
My mother, though—nothing came up when I searched for her.
Corrado’s bad behavior made front-page news. For Maria, my mother, her goodness, her love, had landed her in a shallow grave.
Even though I couldn’t remember the way she looked, I thought of her often. Especially when I touched her rosary. Even as a child she tried to teach me how to ease my anxiety with faith.
Capostared at my face, maybe thinking back. He ran his finger down my nose again. “Your nose. Your eyes. Even your lips belong to her. The color of your eyes...” He tilted his head. “They seem to be a mix. Her eyes were amber, like whisky in a glass right at sunset. She was a beautiful woman.” He became quiet for a moment.
“Your father used to bury shit. Guns. Money. Jewelry. Papers. When I found him, he was in a bad neighborhood. The kind where people keep their heads down, eyes averted.”
“I’m familiar.”
He nodded once. “There was nothing in the house but ratty furniture. When he ran, he ran with very little. He wouldn’t have thrown his shit away. He believed he was going to make a name for himself. He believed he was going to be the newcapoin town.”
“You think he might’ve buried pictures?”
“Bingo.”
“I would.” I swished the last of my drink around the glass. “I would love to see her. It would mean a lot to me if I had pictures of her.” I touched my stomach. “Maybe I’ll see some of her in him.”
We became quiet as the waitress came back to refill our drinks. I only had one thing on my mind, though.
I reached out and took Capo’s hand, resting it against my stomach. “Here’s a twist they probably never saw coming. Two families that hated each other are now joined by one link. Love. This little boy brings them together in peace, whether they want it or not.”
Even if Capo would never speak the words, this baby was created from love. Having children never even crossed my mind when I’d been struggling to survive, but whenCapo gave me the choice, I’d never wanted anything more. To be able to hold my blood in my arms felt like the most amazing dream. To see someone else who maybe looked a little like me felt unreal. I craved to feel that special connection.
Capo lifted a cucumber slice from his bowl and set it in front of my stomach. Then he set another one next to it. Like my stomach had eyes. “Here’s a twist. He’s about the size of a mango right now, even though he’s only supposed to be the size of a cucumber. He’s going to be a big boy.”
The grin that came to my face was slow. “Like his Papà.”
Capo called the waitress over. “Let’s not keep him waiting to eat then.” He ordered spumoni cake and ice cream. He looked at me. “Make that double.”
“Hey!” I started laughing, but I ate the cucumbers he had sat on my stomach. Thenhestarted laughing. I stood, running a hand down my dress. “The bathroom calls before dessert.”
The smile on my face lingered as I made my way through the restaurant. When I got to the back, where the bathrooms were, I noticed a room off to the side. The backroom Capo had been talking about. It smelled like garlic and tomatoes. I wondered if we could check it out after we ate our spumoni?
The bathroom trip didn’t take long, and I was still wiping my hands on a paper towel when I stepped out and ran right into Capo’s arm. He was standing in front of the bathroom door. Another man stood by the storage room. He was much shorter, but bull-chested. They stared at each other.
The napkin in my hand fluttered to the floor when I noticed the tattoo on his hand.
“Bobby, you got a cigarette on you?”
The man’s eyes flew to mine. Then back to Capo’s.
“The fuck? Vittorio?” The man’s voice came out low, and a light sheen of sweat bubbled over his top lip. He was pale, his lips too red from the lack of color on his face. I wondered if the men Capo had killed, the ones who had tried to kill him, had this same reaction when they thought they saw his ghost.
Capo said nothing, but he nodded in a way that told me he wanted me behind him. I moved, but I put a hand to his side, trying to peek.
“Tell me one thing, girl.” It took me a moment to realize Bobby was talking to me. “Do you see him, too?”
I didn’t know what to say. Capo refused to answer, and I wasn’t sure what this guy was going to do if I confirmed it was the man they all thought was dead. Would Bobby pull out a gun and kill us both? If I kept quiet and he got pissed? What then?
“See who?” I rasped out.
