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I tensed, about to tell Elio he could shove that idea right up his stupid Sicilian ass. Because the last time Valentina talked to her Mamma, she got so twisted up in Titone lies that we willingly walked right into the range of Vinny’s gun. But Valentina was already answering.
“I’m not ready for that right now,” she replied in a clipped tone.
“She won’t want to miss her only child’s wedding,” Elio said.
“She lied to me,” Valentina exclaimed. “She said she was at home! So I came, because I thought she needed me! I thought Papà was dead!”
“You lied to her, too. To all of us.” From beyond him, on the other end of the line, I heard a woman’s voice cut in.
“I’m not guilt tripping her,” Elio replied, speaking to someone else. “I’m getting fucking scolded by my wife over here,” he said to Valentina this time. Despite the complaint in his words, his voice had descended into an obnoxiously gooey, affectionate octave that I would have laughed at once.
Not anymore.
“Look,” Elio said, “I’m not going to force you to talk to Zizi. And I won’t drag you to Uncle Vinny’s funeral, either. But after you’re married, and after I get Curse out of Montréal, we need to meet. You, me, and Darragh.”
My hackles rose, snapping to wary attention.
“And Darragh, if you’re listening, which I’m pretty sure you fucking are,” he went on, “then you can fucking relax about what I just said, because I want to talk terms, not traps. You sent a note to me once, calling me your friend in Irish. And while I fully believe that you were just trying to fuck with my head at the time, and that the two of us will never actually be anything close to friends, for better or worse, you’ll be part of the famiglia now. Valentina’s the closest thing I have to a sister, and I don’t want to live my life wondering when my own brother-in-law is going to put a bomb under my car. So when the dust settles a bit, let’s sit down and talk like normal fucking human beings.”
“Neither one of us,” I pointed out darkly, “is a normal human being.”
“Maybe not,” Elio admitted. “But let’s at least do our best to pretend. For Valentina.”
For Valentina. The only one I’d do anything for.
“Congratulazioni to you both,” is the last thing he said before he hung up.
I draw my fingertips up and down the pearls of my wife’s bare spine as she snoozes in the big Dublin house I’m renting. She’s not ready to wake up yet, and I suppose that I can’t blame her. I kept her up half the night.
I have to get up soon, though. I’ve got a meeting with Amos later. I’m going to build my own empire in Ireland, and he will be part of the process. And then, I’m going to investigate the feasibility of buying back some of Grandda’s properties and businesses from the trust. I am officially married and no longer the heir, but maybe I can use the wealth I’ve already acquired in Toronto to find a way to purchase back what I want in Dublin.
Or maybe not. Ultimately, it doesn’t really matter anymore. Because I’ve got everything I need right here in my bed, in my arms, in my dreams.
And my heart is within her.