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Il Don e la Donna - The Don and the Woman
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Bagheria, Sicilia
THE BATTAGLIAS OWNED land. They owned more land than Giovanni and Mirabella could build upon. During war times in la Camorra isolation in Bagheria made security and safety easier. For privacy the Don and his wife chose to stay in one of the smaller villas closer to the cliffs by the sea. Seclusion helped Giovanni heal, while she found herself constantly going between the villa and the palazzo (mansion/main house) to tend to the family’s grief.
The palazzo was much grander than Melanzana and loomed above the smaller villas like some imperial temple. Eight families resided there. The men drove golf carts and four wheelers to cover the distance. Mirabella glanced down the hill to where she expected to see Giovanni in the distance. Instead she saw one of his cousins. The man’s name was Pepe and like most Battaglia Sicilian men he had a deep olive tan, dark coal black hair, height and the body frame of Giovanni and Lorenzo. He stood outside with one of the twins on his shoulder talking to his brothers. Eve chased her cousins around a tree with little Gino trying to keep up. She smiled at the happiness of her children. They loved it in Sicily. Maybe one day when the strife and danger was over they’d leave Sorrento behind and settle here.
These were dangerous times. Palermo was on fire. The Mafia was reigning hell all over Sicily because of the unconfirmed death of Armando Mancini. They’d lost one of their own by the hands of the la Camorra. Giovanni had nearly a hundred men in Sicily guarding them for their stay in Bagheria under a shaky truce granted out of respect for Rocco. She knew what war meant. She knew that the target on her husband’s back wouldn’t lift. And she knew all too well how fragile life was since she almost lost him.
You wouldn’t leave. You’re not that crazy. Damn it Gio, where are you? Mirabella walked around the villa and found Umberto and Leo. They were deep in conversation. Leo looked agitated.
“Where is he?” she asked.
The men looked over.
“Did he leave? Where did he go!” she said with too much emotion in her voice to be considered the leader of the family.
“No, Donna. He’s down the cliffs on the beach,” Leo replied. Umberto shot him a look for silence. But Leo thankfully ignored him.
Mirabella touched her belly. She let go a deep sigh of relief. “Is he safe out there?”
“He’ll return soon Donna,” Leo answered.
“When?”
“Soon,” Umberto replied.
“Take me to him.” she started off. The men had no choice but to obey her order. They brought her down to the beach in a four-wheeler. The moment she arrived she spotted Giovanni swimming back against the tide to the shore.
Why is he in the ocean? He’s not well enough for a swim, she muttered to herself. The Don stood in the water, at waist deep and began walking toward the shore. His back was straight, his stride purposeful despite the pressure of the waves. His shirt was plastered to his broad chest and his pants slick to his muscled thighs. Though he’d lost weight due to his coma, he was still her stubborn, proud husband. She got out of the motor vehicle with the help of one of his men. Giovanni crossed the sand in his bare feet towards her.
“Don’t do that, Gio. Promise me. You aren’t well enough. Swimming now could be dangerous.”
“I’m still your husband.”
“Yes, and I can’t... I can’t lose you. Not again.”
“Never again,” he kissed her trembling lips. She slipped her arm around his waist and secured her hold on him. Despite his soggy state he felt warm in her arms.
“Remember when you taught me to swim?” she asked with her mouth close to his and her face cradled in his hands.
“You were scared to put your head underwater.”
“I feared the unknown,” she corrected him. “Not anymore Gio. I’m not scared, just cautious. I know I’ve been controlling lately but your recovery is a progress. Fear is not weakness, it’s a warning to be careful. Stop proving you’re fearless. I know you are sweetheart. Be careful.”
He nodded. She was swept up into his arms for a deeper kiss. It felt more needful than the ones before. Almost desperately needful. When her mouth escaped his she licked her bruised lips and dropped her forehead on his chest. They stood there for an eternity before she lifted her head and looked into his eyes once more. He was staring out at the sea again.
“Stai bene?” Mirabella asked.
“The dead have no tongues.”
“Where have I heard that before?” Mirabella frowned.
“A saying Rocco would use.”
“Ah, yes, Rocco. I remember. I morti non hanno lingue. But they have secrets,” she said.
He nodded. “So many secrets in this family.”
“Too many for you to account for Gio. Let the secrets die with them,” she reasoned.
“I can’t. Not this time.”
“What choice do you have?”
“That is the real problem. I have no choices. Mama, Patri, Vito, Rocco... Zia Isabella, and Flavio, all of them are gone. No second chances, no answers, just secrets, and now this truth. Nothing last forever, not faith, not love, not loyalty. Everything has a time limit, and everyone dies,” he said.
“For them maybe, but not for us, Gio. Our love lasts forever.”
“Of course, it does Bella. I am speaking on—.”
“We are all loyal, we are. If he hadn’t been so foolish and lied about Giuseppe Calderone none of this would be happening. He—.”
“Lorenzo.”
“What?”
“You can say his name. You’ve not mentioned it since we returned to Sicily.”
“I can’t say it, I won’t.” Mirabella clenched her teeth and the word she wished to replace his name with remained bitterly stuck to her tongue. “He’s the one that should be here facing the dead today. He owes them the explanation Gio, not you.”
Giovanni cast his gaze to his wife and reached for the explanation to give her peace. He remained silenced by her beauty. Under the mid-day sun her skin was radiated like bronze. Her tresses were blown smooth and back from her face. A flash of a past memory with his mother jumped out from his buried thoughts. The way the wind would thin Eve’s hair as she stood in the very same spot. A time long ago when Eve, too, held his hand in Mondello on cliffs like the ones above them while they faced the same sea. It was there she reminded him to be brave. His dear mother shared fears and bravery through stories of Ireland. There were many fables to conjure from her childhood. He favored the ones that told of fairies playing pranks on farmers and leprechauns hiding gold at the end of the rainbow. Though Mirabella and Eve didn’t compare physically, she inspired love in him just as his madre once did.
“You’re thinking about your mother?” Mirabella asked without casting her gaze his way.
“How do you know my thoughts?”
“I don’t. But I learned a long time ago what Sicily and family means to you.”
He pointed to the cliffs over the beach that leaned over the sea. Mirabella cupped her hand to her brow and shielded her eyes from the sun. “The cliffs?”
“Not those cliffs but those in Mondello. Remember when I told you my father made me jump into the ocean.”
“From that high? How old were you again?”
“Six.”
“What a cruel bastard.”
“Lorenzo almost drowned. I didn’t. I thought I would. He even had his men down on the shore ready to go into the ocean for me if it happened. He scared my mother so bad she never brought me near the cliffs again.”
“Why would your father ruin a special place for you and your mother? Risk your life?”
“I don’t know why any father would,” he replied. “I think it was done because he needed to control everything, even our sense of happiness and safety.”
“That’s evil.”
“It was life. No matter what Patri did to mold me he could never shake the bond I had with her. Or the bond Lorenzo shared with her.”
“Lorenzo was close to Eve? I guess that would make sense knowing how cruel his mother was.”
“Madre gave as much of her heart as she could to all of us.”
“I was thinking during my swim. I had my mother to keep me human, to make sense of my father’s cruelty. Lorenzo had Isabella. No father. The man who played the role of his father died when he needed him the most. And even when he was alive he never protected him from Zia Isabella’s punishments. I went to America and learned other cultures and experienced nothing new, but different things. Lorenzo didn’t get those lessons. He was forced to live this life. No matter how big or small his failures, he was always reminded he would be second best. He hated my mix blood, but the irony was we were the same. There’s too much irony now. Too many fucking secrets. Too many lies.”
“Lies? We have the truth.”
“Do we?”
“Rocco’s deathbed confession had to be the truth. Lorenzo is your brother.”
“You don’t know my uncle Rocco. The truth is always buried beneath the lie.”
“Gio? Is it too hard to believe that your father had another son?”
Giovanni chuckled.
“I’m funny? Why are you laughing? Answer me? What is so inconceivable about Lorenzo being your brother?”
“The problem with you Bella is you see things through the lens of your American life.”
“I’m not stupid. Hell, I managed to build a life with you in spite of it all and I—.”
“Shhh.” he placed a finger to her lips. “Listen and then be heard.”
Mirabella silenced.
“It’s not that I don’t believe Lorenzo had another mother. Or that she was taken against her will and forced to have a life of servitude to my father or even my uncle. I completely believe it. But a son is a son for a man like Patri. If Lorenzo was my father’s first born his conception would not have mattered. Just like my conception did not matter.”
“Is it possible that your father didn’t know what to believe? Maybe Rocco’s actions made him distrust the truth.”
“Possible. Not likely. All I’m saying Bella is you can never believe what you hear. Not the first time. Not even the second time. I never wanted to be Don. He did. Why would it matter to me years ago if he was my brother not my cousin? There is more to the story.”
“What have your attorneys found? On the woman Rocco and Eve spoke about?”
Giovanni felt himself hollow as the words parted his lips. “Her real name was Aileen Gunney. Her story is similar to my mother’s. She migrated to Italy with her family and went missing at fifteen. There’s a police report filed by her mother and father shortly after she was taken. My father was named a suspect. The authorities said they questioned Patri and the accusation was unfounded. The family never saw her again.”
“Is there a record of her death?”
“No.”
“Are they sure? Rocco said—.”
“She’s still listed as missing,” Giovanni said. “In our world, missing means dead.”
“And Lorenzo? There is no record of Aileen giving birth to Lorenzo?” Mirabella pushed.
“No, there’s nothing. It’s just the story of the girl. The image that the police have on file is the same girl in the photograph. It’s her. Lorenzo’s mother.”
“Do you think she could be alive?”
“No.”
“It’s possible.”
“It’s not. My father would never let her live, Rocco neither. She’s dead.”
“Because in your world there are no loose ends,” Mirabella finished. “Tomosino was a monster.”
“As was Rocco, and so was your father. Monsters, all of them.” Giovanni agreed. He could feel his wife gaze on him. He didn’t have the mental strength to look her in the eye and not conceal his shame. He continued to stare at the sea.
“You are not him. You do believe that. Right?”
“I’m not a rapist. I would never hurt a woman, intentionally. But I have hurt women unintentionally, you, and Catalina... what I did to her—”
“You’re not a monster. To either of us, Gio. I can’t excuse what you’ve done, but I know you could never be them.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“I—” she began.
“From here on out I must be the bad man, Bella. It’s over. The truce, the safety net, the power, it all dies if I don’t become the monster.”
“And kill your brother?” she asked.
“Lorenzo is not my brother.”
“Here, Gio! What does he feel like here?” she put her hand to his chest.
“Do you want the truth?”
“Yes, what does he feel like in your heart.”
“He feels like my enemy.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“You can’t ask me a question and then dismiss my answer. I lost you once. I lost the ability to be there when you needed me the most. I almost lost you again with the china man. And Tacchini. Only an enemy would make me hate and regret so much.”
“Deep down you know who Lorenzo is, you’ve always known.”
“I just told you—”
“And yes, I believe you. I’m not asking you to forgive or trust him.”
“Then what are you asking of me?”
“Hate and love are too close of emotions for you not to feel them both. I want you to feel safe enough to feel them both with me.”
“I feel safe with you.”
“Not the way you used too. I... I can tell.”
“Look at me.”
She lifted her gaze to his face.
“You’re mine. You were mine the first night in Bellagio. Nothing has changed.”
She looked away again.
“I’m not talking about me,” she said.
“Yes, you are. You think if I can’t forgive Lorenzo, I won’t forgive you.”
“I don’t need forgiveness. I told you. I did nothing wrong.”
Giovanni smiled. “Do you believe your excuses?”
She nodded instead of answering. Again, she kept her gaze averted. “We just have to stay focused Gio. Finish the story. Find out if Rocco told us the truth. And then... we punish Lorenzo.”
“And after?”
“We bury the past.”
“Not punish.”
“What?”
“We kill him,” Giovanni corrected her plan. “I kill Lorenzo. Do you understand?”
Again, she nodded with her gaze averted. He pinched her chin and forced her to look at him. “Because you and I both know that if Lorenzo ever learns or suspects that he is Tomosino’s son he will take that to my enemies and use it to destroy us all.”
“I understand,” she said.
“Prove it,” he pulled her seductively close and his men observing knew to look away.
She pressed her open lips to his and slipped him some tongue. There was a dreamy soul rendering drain of their shared anxiety of the day in the kiss. The kiss lingered as she held on to him and renewed her commitments.
“I. Am. Convinced.” Between each word he planted a kiss on her brow, nose, and cheek. She smiled when he hugged her tightly. “I love you so much, Bella.”
“I love you too, baby.”
Giovanni let her go. They started toward the motor vehicle waiting for them. “What do you think Lorenzo is going to do now that he knows Carlo has Marietta? How far will he go, Gio?”
“The distance.”
“What does that mean?” she asked.
Giovanni paused. He looked back. “See that over there.” He pointed west.
“A sea buoy?” she asked.
“A wave buoy, it marks where the sea gets deepest, at least that’s what we thought as boys. It’s about a mile out. The only person who could swim to it and back without needing rescue was Lorenzo. Each and every time he’d make the swim like a fish. Daredevil jumps from the highest cliff was my thing, but endurance and fearlessness was Lorenzo’s.”
“You endure and you’re fearless,” she said.
“Maybe, but in this war endurance and fearlessness is the end game. I’m about to strip Lorenzo of everything and taking everything from a man leaves him with nothing to lose. That makes him more dangerous than any of our enemies. If Armando is dead Lorenzo will need his money and power. I think he’s going to use Catalina to claim it.”
“Catalina can’t give him Armando’s empire.”
“A missing person report has been filed for your brother in Catalina’s name, as his wife. Soon Catalina will be before the courts asking to be recognized as his beneficiary.”
“She wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t want that. She knows if she stands before the Mafia as his wife and they recognize her then she will lose Domi. Catalina loves Domi. He’s everything to her.”
“Lorenzo will force her,” Giovanni said. “And once he has the Mafiosi’s backing and Armando declared dead he will wage war against me. You weren’t here when I went to battle with the Calderones. It was a bloody time. For everyone.”
Mirabella struggled to process the news that Catalina would drift even further from them both.
“You haven’t once asked about her, or the baby? Do you need to know what I’ve done to Marietta?” he pressed her.
“I, ah, uhm, needed to bury Rocco first. Maybe when this war between you and Lorenzo is over we’ll have that talk.”
“That will be too late. We’ll have it much sooner Bella. Trust me.”
“All I need now is to take you home and feed you with our children.”
She kissed him one last time and then took his hand. There were so many people at the main house because of the funeral. She wished for a place to escape too. She walked him from the shore across the sand to the waiting four-wheeler. Giovanni was strong, but too much time without the aid of his cane weakened him, she could tell.
“I miss Mondello.”
“Then I’ll take you. Tonight.”
“What? No. We can’t go tonight what about the danger.”
“You’re safe with me. Remember?”
“The kids?”
He pointed from the vehicle. In the distance they saw Eve and the twins running and squealing as they played with their little cousins. Belinda blew bubbles for the kids.
“I want to be alone with you,” he whispered in her ear, so his words wouldn’t be captured by the wind.
Jostled in her seat she looked over at him and smiled.
“Mondello?”
He nodded.
“We’ll miss our flight home.”
“I own the plane.”
“You’re the boss. But first I want you to shower and rest. Let me see to the family.”
“You’re the boss,” Giovanni chuckled.