She flew into my arms, and I held her tight against me. I wasn’t sure if relief came from the fact that neither of us had gotten prodded in the neck with an electrical device, or if it was from the fact that the man had lied about me having an affair. Maybe both.
“My word is as good as my blood,” I whispered to her in Italian. “Trust, my wife.”
She didn’t respond with words, only held me tighter. “It’s not over,” she whispered.
“What’s not over, baby?”
“Th—”
Before she could speak, the phone in her purse rang. She ignored it. Still, it continued to ring and ring and ring. I took out the phone myself and went to answer it, but she took it from me. After she said hello, I could hear the voice on the other line, words rushed and frantic.
The phone almost fell from her hands, but I caught it. “Maggie Beautiful,” I said.
“Brando! You need to come home—to Natchitoches. It’s not good.”
“Tell me,” was all I could manage.
“Mitch. He’s—he’s been in an accident, and,oh, Brando. It’s not good.”
Part II
Chapter Fifteen
Brando
An hour before we left Paris, Guido received a phone call from one of the men. Nemours’ Twin admitted to knowing Nemours—Guido felt the two were related, hence the resemblance—and being paid to make contact with me in the diner in New York and in the streets of Paris.
Scarlett and I barely spoke of what had happened with the guy in Paris after we boarded the plane. All we knew was that Mitch was in critical condition; other than that, it was all speculation, and all we could think about.
He had a living will, and three people were in charge of making life-changing decisions for him: Violet, Scarlett, and me. Since Violet and Mick were already with him, Violet had taken charge of his care.
Scarlett had talked to her briefly before we boarded. It was hard to understand her. She had started to cry when she heard Scarlett’s voice.
The plane ride was quiet. Scarlett dozed from time to time, but her sleep was uneasy. I couldn’t sleep. I had no idea what we were in for. On top of that, the issue with Nemours hovered.
I found freedom in the fact that our town was small; he wouldn’t go unnoticed there. Places like New York or Paris were overpopulated with people, but neighbors in Natchitoches still noticed unfamiliar cars.
We were halfway there when she started to sweat in her sleep. I woke her, worried that she was having another nightmare.
“Okay, baby?”
“Perhaps,” she whispered. “I don’t even know how to feel yet. I’m in some kind of hellish limbo.”
“Is this what you meant?” I stroked her head. “When you told me in New York that your feelings were like being caught up in a whirlwind? You couldn’t feel your way to the other side?”
“We’re stuck, Brando.” She sniffed. “Usually there’s some relief, but all I feel is a heavy weight on my heart. I’m starting to get numb.”
“We have each other.” I kissed her forehead. “We’ll see each other through. We always do.”
She buried her head underneath my chin, her ear against my heart, and fell back asleep.
Mitch had been taken to Baton Rouge, and after landing, Scarlett and I drove straight to the hospital, followed by a detail.
Scarlett’s hand trembled in mine as we made our way into the hospital, up the elevators, and into the intensive care unit. I knew how hard this was for her. It was just as hard for me. Losing Matteo and Elliott had scarred us both deep. Being here seemed to resurrect the memories.
Violet, Mick, Sybil Lewis, Violet’s parents, Maggie Beautiful, Aberto, Everett, and Pnina all hovered in the waiting area. When Violet saw us, she collapsed in Scarlett’s arms.
My wife seemed to stand taller, stronger, whispering to Violet that we were here and that together we were going to get through this. Mitch was going to get through this. I didn’t know if her feelings told her that or if she was being hopeful.
