Page 9

NINE

giovanni

Z ina is standing in front of Guido with an expression of pure anger on her face. She looks like she wants to launch at me and tear me apart.

Behind her Guido is shaking - with anger - or shock. I don’t know.

My heart is heavy in my chest.

“If the boy stole he needs to make it right.” I say, without much conviction. I just want to put an end to this.

Zina glances back over her shoulder talking gently, but firmly.

“Guido , you can go. I’ll bring your dinner to you. Go clean up.” She says, overruling my request.

I glare at her with my jaw tight.

Santino huffs and storms out of the dining room as well.

Romeo runs to follow him, and Dante stands frozen, looking from Zina to me and back to Zina.

“Dad, that wasn’t?—”

“Get out.” I say to Dante. “Make sure Santino and Guido don’t get into it again.”

He pulls his face tight, but then leaves.

Zina continues to shoot deadly arrows at me with her gaze.

“You didn’t even try to defend him.” She says coldly.

“My son said he stole from him.”

“Your son?” she says, rich with accusation. “ Your son? ”

“You know what I mean.” I mutter, the guilt in my chest swelling and spreading.

“I don’t know what you mean, Giovanni. But it sounds like you need a massive wake up call. How can you treat your own blood like that? You didn’t even give him a chance to defend himself. You just assumed Santino was right and Guido didn’t have a chance to say a single word before you sided with the other boy.”

I press my lips together, not able to say a word before I know she’s right.

“You’re going to have to think long and hard about what it means to be a father. Whether you like it or not that boy is yours. You can hate me. You can treat me however you want - and you can allow your sons to continue to treat me like shit too - but don’t you dare, ever again, dismiss Guido like that.”

I glance around the empty dining room because I’m struggling to look at Zina. My heart is breaking over what I’ve done. I don’t know how to handle any of this. They are all my sons.

“Let’s just eat.” I say gesturing towards the food.

“I’m not hungry anymore. It turns out that being treated like nothing ruins a person’s appetite.” She snaps.

She storms from the dining room in a rage and I standalone, looking at the empty space, wondering how I stop all of this from tearing my family apart.

This entire thing is a shit show. A disaster. I wish she’d never come back. I wish she’s rather blackmailed me and taken a huge amount of money instead of making me deal with these emotions. I don’t fucking know how to deal with this level of conflict within my own home.

I’m ruthless with my enemies. I tear people apart when they cross me.

How to I stop my sons from fighting each other?

My thoughts drift to Guido .

My son. My son who I just betrayed in so many ways. He will grow to hate me if he doesn’t already. Santino was violent, far too violent - even if there was an issue between the two of them that is not how he should have solved it. And the strange thing is that Santino is the oldest, and usually the rational one. He’s losing his mind since his mother died. Since this mess started.

But it doesn’t give him a right to inflict such damage.

Guido didn’t deserve that and I know it.

I realize that Zina never took a plate of food for him.

The roast lamb smells incredible as I dish up thick slices of it for Guido and pour a generous amount of gravy over the vegetables and the meat on his plate.

It’s the least I can do. I sigh.

I carry the plate upstairs, wondering what I need to do to make this right. To fix all of this. Is it something I’m supposed to just lay the law down on? Or do I need to let them sort it out between themselves?

Zina is right though - I should have stayed neutral this evening.

I’m about to reach up and knock on Guido ’s open door when I hear them whispering.

Zina is sitting on his bed with her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Guido is sitting stiffly, looking utterly miserable.

“I know, honey.” She says softly.

“You know me, mom. Please tell me you don’t believe I would steal from him.”

“I do know you, honey. I know you wouldn’t steal. I’m so sorry about all of this. I thought coming here was the right thing.”

“I don’t care what they think of me, mom. I just need you to believe me.” His voice is thick with emotion.

She takes his face in her hands and forces him to look into her eyes. His face is still coated in blood.

“Guido , I know who you are. I know you have a good, kind and strong heart. Don’t let them bring you down.” She says sternly.

I clear my throat and both of them jump.

Zina stands up, spinning to face me with shock in her eyes.

“What is this?” She snaps.

“Guido , wanted to bring you some food. Can I get you anything else? Pain killers or - uh - anything?” I step inside, oddly uncertain of myself. This is the first time I’m really talking to my son.

“I’ll be in my room.” Zina says quickly, glancing at Guido . He nods tightly. She walks past me and her scent brushes over me.

When she’s gone, I set his food down on the bedside table.

“Let me get a look at you.” I say, standing in front of him.

He tilts his head up, not saying a word. He won’t make eye contact.

I take his jaw in my hand and examine the bruises and the cut on his lip.

“Give me a second. I’ll get the med kit. We’ll disinfect for you.”

“Don’t bother yourself.” Guido says, calm but angry.

I pause and let out a heavy breath.

“I’m sorry, Guido . What I did downstairs was not fair.”

For the first time since I walk in he looks directly at me.

His eyes are filled with curiosity.

I shake my head. “I was wrong.” I say again. “And I will have a word with Santino.”

Guido stares at me for a long time, then simply says, “thank you.” With a tight smile.

I smile as well. He is a man of few words, much like me. And staring at him now - I can see myself in him again. A quiet strength that people might underestimate.

“Do you want the first aid kit?” I ask.

“No, it’s alright. There’s one in my bathroom cabinet. It’s not as bad as it looks.” He gestures over his face.

“Alright then.”

“Alright then.”

We watch each other for a moment and things shift slightly.

He smiles.

I smile and step back.

“Goodnight, son.” I murmur.

“Goodnight.” He turns his face away but not before I catch the massive smile that spreads over his face.

Outside his room, with my back against the wall, I’m smiling too.

It’s a small, seemingly insignificant step - but it’s a step in the right direction and for the first time in a long time I can smile about something.

But he’s not the only one who deserves an apology over what happened tonight, so I walk towards her bedroom.

She’s standing at the window, waiting for me.

“What happened?” She asks, nervous.

“It went well.”

Her shoulders drop slightly as she lets go of the tension she was holding.

“Thank you.” She says softly.

“You don’t have to thank me, Zina. I owe you an apology. I should have stayed neutral. I should have given both of them a chance to talk.”

She nods. “I appreciate you saying that.”

Sitting down on her sofa I push my hands back through my hair and let out a dry chuckle.

“Being a parent is so fucking hard sometimes.” I muse.

She grins and sits down next to me. “Oh, don’t worry, I know. And it’s even more difficult now because every time I look at Guido I see the little baby boy I held in my arms and rocked to sleep - but he’s a man now. He’s a grown, strong, individual with his own dreams and thoughts and ideas.” She sighs wistfully.

“I keep calling mine ‘kid’, even though they’re not even teenagers anymore. I keep waiting for one of them to call me out on it.”

She giggles again.

“And all the boys are taller than me.” She laughs louder this time. “It’s so hard pulling rank when they’re all taller than me.”

I start laughing to and as it rolls from my belly and out into the air it feels so good to be letting go and giving myself permission not to grieve for a moment.

Zina wipes her eyes, brushing away the watering tear that escaped in her amusement. She sighs loudly and leans over to rest her head on my shoulder.

“It’s not that long ago that we were their age.” She says.

“It’s not that long ago. And I still have all that same energy, the same yearning for a life of adventure and freedom.”

“Adult life steals a lot of that away from you.” She nods.

“It does. But why should we let it?”

Zina grins, turning to look at me, her body still leaning against mine. “It’s been a long time since I expressed my freedom or let go and had a little fun.”

The glitter in her eyes is impossible to misread. She looks exquisite as she stares up at me.

She bites her lip and turns away, comfortable against me. I wrap my arm around her shoulder, trying to ignore the pulsing need growing thicker by the second.

“It’s nice to have someone to talk to about it.” I say, resting my cheek against her hair.

“It is. I’ve been a single mom the entire time. All I wanted was someone to do it all with. You know. The hard times and the good times. To raise a family. To be together.”

My heart breaks for her realizing that I had all of that, but she had none.

“I wish you’d told me about him sooner.” I say quietly.

“You know I couldn’t do that, Gio. But now - from now on - I want him to at least experience what it’s like to have a family that isn’t just me.”

I nod, finally understanding why she’s here. Understanding that as a parent she was fighting for something for her son. Our son. And I would have fought for the same thing in her position.

We sit for a long time on her sofa, with my arm wrapped around her shoulders and her leaning into me.

Zina falls asleep and I gently lift her into my arms and carry her to her bed.

I want to climb in next to her so that I can carry on holding her. But I know better than that. Instead I lean down, brushing my lips over her cheek I whisper. “Sleep well, little firefly.” Then with all the effort I can muster inside me - I leave her and walk back to my own room, spinning with thoughts of her and what happened between us tonight.

She’s so much softer and warmer when she’s not fighting me.

She lets me close. And I understand it’s because I made her feel like she had to fight me. I made her defensive and cautious of me.

I need to do better by her so that I can do better for my son.