What if this whole war of his fails?Or never ends and just goes on and on?
What if his endless talking about that curse of his that he believes will kill him as soon as he gets his own back isn’t just talk?
I give my cheek a slap to steady myself and stop the spiraling.I barely feel the pain.And the heat of the blow is cold too.
But this is the lot of a mafia wife.There’s always some battle, some feud, something to take care of.Something dangerous and deadly.It was the lot of a mafia daughter too.
I can’t fall apart the first time my intended goes to battle.I have to be strong.Have to be his rock.He’ll need me when he comes back.Just as I need him.Just as our children will need him.
I rub my belly, imagining I can already feel the life kicking inside me.The life we made.
I sent him to battle thinking he has a child on the way and I’m not even sure.
Suddenly that unknowing fills my brain, sounding like the biggest mistake I’ve made.
And I know this panic gripping me now, this need to know if I am really pregnant or just imagining it all, is just my mind’s way to keep me from worrying about Matteo, giving me something else to fixate on.
But I rush from the bedroom anyway, taking the servants stairs down to the kitchen, actually breathing a deep sigh of relief when I find Maria there.
She’s standing at the window, looking out over the garden, and clutching the crucifix around her neck in her hand, her lips moving soundlessly.The sun is illuminating her face, making her look like some statue in a church as she prays.
She’s worried too.Worried enough to pray.
The thought stops me dead just inside the doorway to the vast kitchen, which smells of the garlic and tomato sauce that is slowly cooking in several large pots on the stoves.
She turns to me, a serene smile on her lips.“They’ll be hungry when they come back.”
She points at the pots of tomato sauce she’s making.It’s enough to feed a whole army.But I don’t think it’s this army she’s talking about.I think she’s talking about the last one.The one that never came back.Matteo’s family.She lost them too.
I have to get both of us out of this house.Or else we could go mad worrying.
“I have an errand to run,” I say and touch my belly.“At the pharmacy.”
She raises one eyebrow as she sees the hand on my belly.
“What kind of errand?”she asks.“We’re not supposed to leave the house.”
I smile and walk to her side.“Everyone is somewhere else.Busy.And I’m afraid I told Matteo something this morning… something I’m not sure is true.And I want to be sure when he comes back tonight.”
She looks from my belly to my face and back again.
“You’re pregnant?”she asks, the emotion making her voice very soft, barely audible.
“I think so, but I want to be sure.Let’s ride down to the pharmacy.I know you have a car.”
I’ve seen her come and go.Usually returning with huge bags of food, which the men would then help her carry into the kitchen.
She looks at me, excitement warring with something much more stern in her eyes.
“We must not leave the house,” she says finally, and I can tell every one of those words was hard for her to say.“Matteo was very clear that we are not to go anywhere.”
As if to punctuate the point a man in a black suit, holding a machine gun strolls past the kitchen window, briefly nodding at us before resuming his vigilant gaze over the garden.
“Oh,” I say defeatedly, all my dark thoughts of all the ways this day could go wrong already rushing back into my mind.
She wraps her arms around me and hugs me tightly.“I know, sweetie.It’s so hard just sitting here waiting for them to come home.”
“You’ve done it before,” I mutter.“And they didn’t.”
