“It’s gorgeous.” Mira ran her hand over the top rail. “It looks old, handmade?”
Eve plopped down on her bottom, sucking hard on her pacifier watching them. Her daughter couldn’t decide on anger or curiosity over being placed in a crib. Mira preferred they sleep together. After Kei finally put the crib she’d ordered together, Mira never had the heart to place Eve in it.
“That’s my surprise. It’s Giovanni’s crib from when he was a baby. I had them drop the mattress so she couldn’t get out and hurt herself. Yes, I believe it was handmade.”
“Thank you for doing this. I don’t know what to say.”
“No need to do or say anything. We have a wedding to plan. After all you did for me and my wedding I can’t wait to help you plan yours.”
Mira’s smile dimmed. She wasn’t sure of how fast she could move with plans while the world thought she was dead. Catalina reached in the crib and picked up Eve. She put her on her hip.
“How is married life treating you?” Mira asked desperate to change the subject.
“Oh, it’s great. Just great.” Catalina said. She put Eve down and began to run in circles. Eve ran around the room chasing Catalina, laughing. Mira watched them with happiness in her heart. With each day she began to realize she had again found a family.
****
Catalina entered her bedroom and paused. Franco was dressed for the evening. He looked over at her with a familiar cold congested look of tolerance. “Ciao bella.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m needed in Piano di Sorrento. I will be late this evening.”
“No. No Franco. I was thinking we’d all have dinner tonight as a family. Giovanni and Mira have an announcement. You won’t believe it Franco. They’re getting married. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Bene. I’m happy to hear it. I’ll try to return early. It’s the best I can promise.”
He walked over and kissed her cheek. Catalina caught a whiff of his cologne and frowned. She took a long hard look at his attire. He wasn’t dressed for work. Franco opened a bottling factory with Giovanni’s backing and brought some of his friends from Sicily with their families to run it. None of them would put on an expensive suit for drinks at a pub. Three nights out of the week he spent out with the ‘men’ and each time she knew it was a lie. He never touched her and on the rare occasions they did make love it was as if neither were in the room. She knew the truth in her heart. He didn’t love her.
“Franco?”
Slipping on his leather ankle boots while sitting on the edge of the bed he looked up at her smiling “Yes?”
“You’re going to her aren’t you?”
Franco secured his boot, never taking his eyes off Catalina. Slowly he rose. Catalina gathered her courage to have the conversation she’d been avoiding for over a year. “Who is she? I know she exists so don’t deny it.”
Franco sucked in a breath grimacing with impatience. A snide smirk curled his lips. “You don’t know anything,” he said in a soft sympathetic tone. Catalina stood her ground. She folded her arms across her breasts and tossed her chin upward. He would not get away with treating her this way. After all he knew who her brother was.
“Oh, I know plenty.”
“So do I,” Franco chuckled.
“Mi scusi?” Catalina asked.
“You walk around here like some chaste little mafia princess when you’re nothing but a lying conniving slut!” he said. He might as well have struck her because his words left her recoiling back from him. Franco may be cheating on her, but in the two years they’ve been together he never disrespected her. She’d never seen him angry, and even now he behaved like it was all a game. That sly smile to his face, his dark olive black eyes dancing with amusement, he was taking pleasure in taunting her. “What did you call me?” she asked.
Franco sneered. “A whore just like your mother. You think I didn’t know on our wedding night? You think I still don’t know you’re fucking him!”