She sashays off before I can retort, not that it would matter. Exhausted or horny, I’m going to do exactly what she wants.
***
"What happened to your ear?" Maddalena asks worriedly when she notes the bandage.
"A little mishap last night. Why don't we settle by the tree?" I suggest, carrying Amadeo while Matilde picks up Lucia.
A gray drizzle outside, twinkling lights inside and the warmth of the fire has me content to remain on the sofa with my family all day. Our morning meal might seem casual, being consumed by the tree, but Matilde’s breakfast feast is to die for - a traditional Buccellato Siciliano, maple glazed ham, bourbon and peach jam served over brie, and plenty of hot espresso for the adults.
The babies’ eyes are wide and wonder-filled, and the sisters’ joy is infectious. The first Christmas for the former and the first together for the latter. I haven’t felt such a deep, abiding happiness during the holidays, or any other time, in more years than I care to admit.
“This is for you,” Matilde says, passing me a large, brightly wrapped package.
Pulling my knife out, I carefully separate the tape from the giftwrap. Like peeling skin from meat, I take extra care when it comes to unwrapping, a habit Dante always found tedious. But he's not here this morning.
“You havegotto be kidding me,” Maddalena huffs. “Just rip it!”
Matilde and her sister giggle over my methods while I take my time, telling my heart to slow down. I didn’t expect a gift. And when the paper is removed and I’ve pried the box open, my heart nearly stops. “Paints and brushes?”
“Yes. A few canvases for you to practice with, too. I thought you might like to try painting again… when you have free time and wish to… relax or…”
Matilde’s explanation trails off as she studies my expression. Her hopeful smile fades when I close the box again.
“Thank you. If I have time to pursue painting again, I’ll be all set.”
Her smile returns when Maddalena sets a present in her lap, but my response disappointed her. It disappoints me, too, but I’m not a boy finding ways to fill long summer days anymore. And the thoughtfulness of her gift spurs too much hope.
I vowed to keep her safe and give her a comfortable life, but yesterday proved safety is no sure thing. Controlling the Trio, making it strong against any threats, inside and out, that's where my focus needs to be. Not on landscapes and daydreams.
"I'll need to go out this evening."
"Out? Your mother has invited us to Christmas dinner."
"I know, and we'll be there, but there's business I'll need to manage later."
Very bloody business. Antonio is my prisoner, but it would be dangerous to allow too much time to pass before I dispose of him. I need to question him before that happens. Unwrapping Matilde's gift won't be all my knife does today.
"Speaking of going out," I add, capturing the girls' attention, "after we're all dressed for the day, I have a present… for both of you."
37
Matilde
The rest of the holidays passed in a whirl of rumors, tension and torture in the Chicago Trio, and it’s a bitterly cold day in January when Ersilia brings me a second cup of espresso to fight my fatigue one morning. “Thank you.”
“Take a nap if you wish. I’ll watch them. Did they keep you up last night?” she asks, nodding at the babies on their playmat.
“I’m okay.” It is my husband who keeps me up more often than not lately, though I’m just as bad as him. Not that I’ll admit that to our housekeeper. “Will you join me?”
“Should I check on your sister and Primo first?” she inquires, raising her eyebrows.
“I am sure they are fine.”
Because of increased security measures, Nico insists Maddalena be homeschooled now. As she was behind, Primo volunteered to act as her math tutor. He’s quite gifted with numbers.
“Unwed girls of rank in the Trio are chaperoned when they’re around men not of their blood. To protect their honor,” Ersilia says once she’s settled with her own cup.
“The rules were the same for me, but Primo would not dare disrespect Maddalena as his Capo’s sister-in-law.”
