Page 75 of Forbidden Pregnancy

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Correct,” Leandro says, moving away from me and smiling.

This will make my position in the mob more dangerous. In some ways, Myra might be more vulnerable. This is the trade off I’ll have to make.

“I accept your offer, uncle.”

He takes my hand in an old-fashioned handshake.

“Good luck, Michael. If this is the girl you’re willing to fight for, I trust your judgment. From what I’ve heard, she’s a smart cookie and a good girl.”

“Yes.”

“We’ll meet after the honeymoon and talk business.”

He hugs me and kisses me on the cheek. “You’re more like your father than you realize,” he says. “Don’t let his bad traits screw up your memories.”

“I won’t.”

A few minutes after Leandro leaves, I have another visitor. I’m out of alcohol, so I don’t mind seeing someone who owes me walking through the door.

“You smell like liquor. Mint?” CC reaches into her tiny bag for three white mints, which I eagerly stuff into my mouth.

“Thanks.”

“Myra is totally freaking out. She wants me to check on you.”

“I’m fine and I don’t need to be checked on.”

“That’s what I said,” CC says. “You don’t look bad. For a grumpy monster with one eye.”

“Careful.”

“Fine,” CC says, rolling her eyes. “You look good.”

I grunt and give CC a once over. She looks a lot cleaner than I’ve ever seen her. Seeing CC wearing something other than sweatpants, dungarees or weird trendy clothing makes this wedding seem more real.

The clock in my dressing room seems to go slower than regular time. I need to see Myra. I have no interest in an Italian Catholic wedding. It’s just what my mother wants for me and I owe her this last wish. She believes the cops’ public story about what happened to dad, so her grief over losing my father has been genuine.

I hurt her badly enough with what I’ve done, the least I could do is put up with a Catholic mafia wedding. The priest, Father Barzini, performs all the masses for our family.

“Is the priest here?”

“Yes,” CC says, approaching me and straightening my tie. “You’re almost ready to marry my former tutor… all thanks to me.”

“Remorse would be a more appropriate response.”

“I’m sorry I hurt Myra,” CC says. “Don’t get me wrong. But I always wanted her to be a part of my family.”

“You’re very strange.”

“Whose fault is that?” CC asks, her face falling momentarily. “It doesn’t matter. I came here to tell you something. I can’t let you get married without telling you.”

“That’s worrying.”

CC pulls away and sighs as if she had to work up courage to get to this moment. I wait for her to unveil whatever future problem she plans on causing for me.

“It won’t be,” she says. “I’m going to Canada.”