“Get out,” Angelo hisses, clearly embarrassed to be seen like this.
“Stop with your bitching and whining,” Natalia says, handing me the blanket I asked her to fetch. “And I’m going.” She kisses his clammy brow. “I hope it works. I hate seeing you so sick.”
Since Ben left for the city on Sunday, Angelo’s condition has taken another turn for the worse. He can’t keep anything down, and if this continues, he will need to have a feeding tube inserted. I know he doesn’t want that, so I offered to help.
I’m glad I had the foresight to ask Esme and Pen to pack up my work supplies. Pen ran by the center to collect everything after I emailed the manager my resignation letter. I don’t know if she is suspicious that I resigned without giving notice at the same time her new receptionist disappeared, but I have to trust my dad and Ben cleaned up the mess and she is none the wiser.
Anyway, it’s good I have my things so I can do this for Angelo. Acupuncture can assist with a wide range of conditions, but it’s especially helpful with nausea. I might not like the man much, but I won’t stand by and watch someone suffer when I can do something about it. HeisBen’s father and Rowan’s grandfather after all.
I place the blanket over his body, being careful not to dislodge any of the needles. Lighting the diffuser, I let the exotic scents swirl around the room before pulling up one of my most popular playlists with my clients on my cellphone. The oriental orchestral piece is meant to be soothing and serene to help the patient relax. I find a lot of my clients actually fall asleep during the session, which is always a good sign.
“I’m going to leave you here for thirty to forty minutes,” I tell Angelo, patting his arm as the music starts. “Press the button if you need help, and Ruthie will call me. Empty your mind, close your eyes, and try to relax,” I add, spotting the wariness on his face. I’m not surprised he is doubting the process. He’s old school, no matter how much he spouts about changing with the times. The fact he is willing to try this tells me how badly he wants to avoid the feeding tube.
“I can’t believe you got the old bastard to do that,” Natalia says after we have exited the room and shut the door. I notice she refers to her father as “the old bastard” a lot, even to his face, but it’s said with affection. It’s evident she has a very different relationship with Angelo than Ben.
“I had to coax and distract him a lot,” I admit, as we walk toward the playroom.
“I’ve never had acupuncture,” she says as we step inside Rowan’s domain.
“I can do a session with you before you leave, if you like,” I offer.
Rowan is currently bouncing on one of the trampolines, singing to himself, without a care in the world. Apart from asking when he will see his cousin Romeo again and when his daddy is returning, he seems quite content.
Alesso looks up from his spot on the floor, across the large room, nodding by way of greeting.
“Hi, Mom!” Rowan waves as he bounces on the trampoline, his hair lifting from his head with the motion. “Hi, Auntie Natalia!”
I wave at him, and Natalia blows him a kiss. “Hello, little charmer.”
I grab some waters from the small refrigerator in the room before taking a seat alongside Natalia on the couch. “I would like a session,” Natalia says. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
I snort out a laugh. “Have you not been watching me go slowly insane?”
“You like to keep busy,” she surmises, smiling as she watches Rowan.
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“I envy you,” she says, twisting her head to look at me. Glancing in Alesso’s direction, she lowers her voice so he can’t hear. “You got to choose what you did with your life. And Ben won’t curtail you either. Once this threat is dealt with, he will support you with whatever you wish to do.”
“And your husband doesn’t?”
She runs her tongue along her plump lips. “It’s not that he deliberately stops me from doing what I want to do. It’s more the perception. Mafia wives usually don’t work.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is,” I say, uncapping my water. “Why can’t you work? We’re not living in the Dark Ages.”
“Gino says it’s for protection. A way to keep the wives safe, whereas I believe it’s more about control.”
“Isn’t Ben changing things though?”
“He is, but that’s within the Mazzonefamiglia. Yes, some of the other families have adopted some of his new ways, but the manner in which women are treated in this world is still significantly lacking.”
“I’m sorry. That sucks.”
“It does.” She sighs, tossing her long glossy dark hair over her shoulders. “I had to drop out of college when I married Gino. I only got to go in the first place because Ben convinced the old bastard to postpone my wedding until I was twenty-one and to let me attend NYU.”
“So, your wedding was an arranged marriage?” I had wondered when I saw them at the charity ball in Chicago. Her husband looks a good bit older than her, and while it could have been by choice, I had a sense it wasn’t.
“I was promised to another man before I was even born,” she admits, and I can’t keep the shock from my face.
