"He called you ‘The Iceman’ because I called you ‘The Godfather’. I'm sorry," I rush out, staring my father in the eyes, unable to stand the silence and Michael's fidgeting. My father nods his head.
"You see, Michael, your sister—a girl—has the guts to be honest with me. Right now, this little girl is being more of a man than you are. I know you want to show me that you're ready to be a man and all, so start showing me now. What did you say right before I came into this room?" His tone is light, but I know better than to assume that means all’s well. Michael stands up and faces our father, squaring his shoulders.
"Sir, I called you ‘The Iceman’," Michael says without a hint of nervousness. My father stands and walks toward him. Before I can shield myself from it, he’s got Michael by his throat. Michael doesn't move a muscle; his eyes don't waiver. I know my father's grip around his neck isn't very tight. He’s making a point. My father leans in and touches his nose to Michael's.
"As your father, inside of this house, I find the childish jokes funny. I enjoy your sense of humor. But outside of this house, if you come to work for me, that can't happen. If you want me to teach you what I know, if you want me to guide you so that one day your own smart ass kid can call you bullshit names while you're trying to show him the ropes, then you need to watch your tongue. I want to leave this to you, son, but in order to do that, you have to want it. I'll always be your father, but that won't matter if you join my family. I just want you to be prepared for that."
He lets go of Michael’s neck and takes a step back. I keep my eyes trained on my paisley bedspread, rattled that my father has let me be witness to this conversation. He’s always very careful to skirt the lines around me, never saying too much.
"It's time you learn about this side of the family, Alexandra. One day you'll have a husband and you'll have his children. You need to know what you're getting into. I just wish your mother were here to help guide you." He trails off at the end. I nod. He wants me to know my place as a wife and mother so I’ll know what I’m marrying into. The problem is he’s overlooked the fact that I was born in it. It doesn't matter who I marry. I’m already in the life, and there’s no changing that.
"Hey, Dad?" Michael says, relaxing to his normal self. For a moment I think he’s going to keep up the tough guy look in front of our father, and I worry that means he will always keep the tough guy look when he’s around. Staring at my father and brother, so much alike and growing more alike every day, my heart aches. It’s like being faced with Michael turning into somebody he isn't before my eyes.
My father smiles at him. "Hey, Mike."
"Tony's having a party tonight. Am I clear to go?" I wait for it—the moment where my father tells Michael he can take off. The verbal acknowledgement of the disparity in treatment between me and my brother. Maybe I should be more excited about being married off. I wouldn't have to deal with my father's gross injustices any longer. No, then I'll have to deal with my husband's—a husband I didn't even get the chance to pick.
"You know the rules," my father says, pointing his finger at my brother with a proud smile on his face. We’re not kids anymore, both nineteen now, but with me being a girl I don’t step a toe out the door without permission. Michael, however, unofficially works for our father. He’s on call 24/7 and not really confident enough to stop asking for permission to go out and do stuff.
"I'll do you proud, Old Man," Michael says. He smirks and blocks the playful punches my father throws at him, while throwing out a few of his own.
"Okay, have fun, ragazzone. Avvolgere tuo uccello," my father says as he walks out of the door. He turns around and looks at me and rubs his neck. I know what he said, and the expression on his face tells me he’d forgotten I was still in the room He wouldn't have told my brother to use a condom had he remembered I was sitting right here.
"Why don't you go check on your Aunt Gloria, and lock up the liquor while you're at it. It's about time all those sciocchi go home anyway." It’s not a request. My father disappears down the hall, and the moment I know he’s out of earshot, I turn on my brother.
"Yeah, ragazzone," I say in frustration. "Wrap your fucking dick." I turn away from Michael's grin and flip him the bird as I stand up and leave the room.
Chapter 2
Alex
This life of ours, this is a wonderful life. If you can get through life like this and get away with it, hey that's great. But it's very unpredictable. There's so many ways you can screw it up.
Michael Castellano, suspected Colombo family associate