The roles seemed to be reversed. I sat on the sofa while Maggie Beautiful lay with her head in my lap, her knees curled up to her chest. I stroked her head while she cried. We both seemed to be drunk on sadness, just handling our heartbreak in contrasting ways.
“Maggie Beautiful, tell me something.”
She looked up at me with swollen eyes. Her cheeks were mascara-stained, her nose bright red.
“Why didn’t Brando just go to college here? I know about the scholarships. But there are opportunities here. Whenever I bring it up, he just shrugs.Reasons.”
She sniffed. “The scholarships were full. Even local colleges cost money, Doll. And after Elliott went to heaven, Brando changed. I don’t think his heart was in it. Before he had drive. After Elliott, all he had was…testardo—”she shook her fist “—pigheaded anger! Even though he has a fund from Luca, he refuses to touch it.”
I mulled this over for some time, thinking of Brando going to see Luca Fausti out of the blue. No, he never did anything spontaneous. If he went to see him, he had a reason.
“Luca has a fund for Brando?”
“Yes,” she breathed out. “Luca comes from money—the kind that can buy private islands on a whim. It’s not worth the hassle of takinganythingfrom them. It comes with lifelong strings. The Faustifamigliabought my parents off and sent them back to Italy. My parents are ashamed of me. Told me that I was going to burn in hell for sleeping with a married man.” She took a deep breath and it seemed to tremble out.
“I was a baby when I got pregnant with Brando. And they left me. Gave me this house. Told me I was on my own. Put enough money in the bank for me to survive for a while. Luca paid all of the hospital bills, though I fought him on that. At his urging, my parents sent an old aunt of mine to live here with us until I was of age. I just couldn’t understand it. Still don’t.”
Her hand came down to her stomach, as though she were remembering. “I loved Brando from the moment I knew I had a baby in my belly. And my parents stopped loving me. How could they? If I was only a baby and I loved beyond what I could see, why couldn’t they still love me? I wastheirbaby.”
She cried harder and I longed to ease some of her sadness. After some time of me shushing her, she asked me to direct the conversation away from her parents.
“What happened with Luca? How did he kill the sheriff’s wife?”
“The situation with us drove him to drink. He wanted Brando, you know. But I refused to give him up.” She paused. “Oh, but God have mercy on my soul, he has the most gorgeous eyes. Eyes that could capture you and then use you against your own will. Those eyes made you feel his love, whether you wanted to or not.”
I felt compelled to ask. The man made me curious. “He’s beautiful? Luca?”
“No,” she breathed. “That’s a simple term for what Lucious Fausti is. It’s not just his looks. It’s the power behind the man. Fausti men race powerful cars for the fun of it. Their virility is unmatched. It’s hard to even describe in words…” She drifted for a while and then blinked, forcing more tears down her cheeks. “Where was I?”
I understood all too well the man she had described, and I didn’t need the reminder. “Luca killed the sheriff’s wife.”
“Oh, that.” She bit her lip. “After Brando was born, we argued. A lot. He got drunk. Diane, that was Stone’s wife, was taking a stroll down the street. Luca still claims he has no recollection of hitting anyone. He should have just left town. That’s what he was after, leaving with no ties. But he was determined to get me to change my mind.”
The words came easy for her but at a price. Maggie Beautiful had always symbolized everlasting childhood to me, from the way she spoke to the way she danced, to her carefree attitude toward life. The hardships that she had endured, just how deep the abandonment ran in the lines of her face, were never more apparent in that moment. Her parents. The man she had loved.Still loved.
The truth was hard to ignore.
More than anything, though, a nagging sensation told me that I was missing something about the Faustifamiglia.Even though Maggie Beautiful was more open about discussing them, she still held back. But right now, the Faustifamigliawas the least of my problems.
“I’m so sorry, Maggie Beautiful.” I stroked her head harder.
She laughed; it sounded a bit manic. “The beautiful here is that Brando loves you more than he loves himself. Or he wouldn’t be putting you first. The tragedy of the situation is that somewhere deep inside of him, he sees what I could have been in you, and he sees what he could be in Luca. That’s why he goes to see him from time to time, for the reminder. How tragic is that?” Her voice dropped. “He’s never created such a scene before. I’ve never seen him lash out like that. He—I don’t even know what to say about that.”
Her eyes turned up to meet mine, and she gave me a hard look. “I know you love him, Doll. I know you do.” She tapped her front tooth with a pointer finger. “And there’s no easy way to say this. But I need you to promise me. Promise me that you won’t give yourself to him. Does that make sense? If you give in, you’re going to lose a part of yourself, a part that you’ll never be able to get back. When a girl truly loves, once she givesthatpart of herself to a Fausti, there is no turning back. There is no tomorrow. You’ll always be connected to him—”
I looked away from her, not sure where to place my eyes. She shot up, her body bouncing from the sofa to the floor. She stood, hands on hips, breathing heavily, staring down at me.
“Doll…” She slapped at the tears on her face. “Oh, I should’ve known. I should’ve said something sooner… But I was sure he wouldn’t. Not with you. Not…” She hiccupped. “The eyes strike again.”
Neither giving her confirmation or denial, I shook my head.
She swallowed hard, the tears coming faster, and then she cursed as she made her way into the kitchen. Cabinets opened and slammed, cups and plates jingled, bottles clanked, and then an explosion of glass.
I jumped from my spot, coming to stand in the doorway of the kitchen. Her tears hadn’t slowed but the profile of her face seemed set in stone. She picked up another empty bottle and hurled it at the wall. She turned to me, face as fierce as the sun attempting to break through dark clouds.
“We’re out of drinks. And, oh hell, I need a drink!”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
