67

Sophie
My new engagement ring catches the sunlight, sending a rainbow of sparkles across the dash of my car. It’s beautiful-a diamond nestled between two wide bands of blue opal set in yellow gold. It’s perfect-artsy, unique and exquisite. Joey wanted me to be with him to pick it out, but he was the one who spotted it, proving he paid attention.
I love that about him. I’ve never felt so seen with a man. So cared for.
It was too much at first. It contributed to the sensation of him coming on too strong. Of being too dominant. Too strong-willed. Too…everything.
But the truth is, he’s perfect. He is everything.
And while I hated the fact that he is a LaTorre, now I’m wondering if maybe that’s exactly why fate threw us together. He’s the antidote to the wounds I sustained growing up in the Family. Yes, he’s dangerous. Tough. A bulldozer when he wants something. But he’s also attuned to my needs, chivalrous, and protective.
I believe he’d do anything for me, and now that I’m pregnant, that’s important.
The baby changes everything. It’s not just about me anymore. I have to think about what’s best for our child. And while I wouldn’t have said I would want a child to grow up in the Family the way I did, I think Joey will make it work better.
Or maybe that’s just the story I’m selling to myself because I want Joey. I don’t want to have this baby on my own, nor do I even think a man like Joey would let me.
The last two weeks have been pure bliss. Joey’s spent the night every night. Brought me food or cooked. Pampered me. Made me a doctor’s appointment and got me on a better health insurance policy.
He wants me to move into his apartment, but I’ve resisted. Maybe I’m being stubborn, but I don’t want to fit into his life. I want him to fit into mine. He hasn’t argued, but I’m sure he’ll maneuver me into something else.
He’s very good at that.
We haven’t announced our engagement yet. I told Sereva, but I haven’t figured out how to tell my mom.
I know she will freak out about Joey. She will probably never, ever approve, which makes it hard. I asked Joey to hold off telling his family until I’ve talked to my mom, but since I keep putting it off, that hasn’t happened.
Which makes things awkward, since I’m on my way to Carmen’s for a baby shower for one of the wives, and chances are good someone will notice the ring, and then the news will be public.
I had sort of hoped Joey would be at my side when we announced things. But I can’t expect him to shield me. I’m back in the fold now, and I’ll have to make a place for myself with these women on my own.
I enter Carmen’s house to find the gathering of women in the kitchen. “Come on in, Sophie. We have mimosas and Bloody Mary’s or just juice in the kitchen.”
I set my gift down on the gift table and head into the kitchen for some juice. Summer and the twins, Janine and Juliana, are there, along with their dad’s fiance, Lexi.
Carmen notices the ring immediately and gasps, “Are you engaged?”
“Um. Yeah.”
“To whom?” Donna Teresa cut in.
I swear, every woman in the room turns to look at her. I shift on my feet. “To Joey,” I mumble.
Donna Teresa’s lips press together in a thin line.
The younger women are enthusiastic in their chorus of congratulations. The older women seem more reserved.
“Well, that was fast, wasn’t it?” his mother demands. “You’ve only been dating-what-a month?”
I nod. “Yes, just about a month.”
“What’s the rush?”
I have no intention of announcing my pregnancy to this room full of gossiping women. It’s not my baby shower-it’s not for me to steal the limelight.
I shrug and turn my attention to the visibly pregnant woman, Angela. “So when’s your due date?”
Angela rests her hand on her belly. “November 8th.”
“And when does Gerry get out?” another woman asks.
“A year from January. So the baby will just be walking by then.”
A wave of cold rolls through me, memories of my father’s incarceration making my stomach sick.
Don Alberto, Sr., Joey’s dad, was boss then, and he paid our mortgage, but still money was tight, and my mom had to get a job. She worked as a receptionist at a beauty salon to keep me at St. Mary’s Academy.
I remember Joey dropped off cash once. He was in his early twenties, and my mom had told me to ask him to wait until she arrived because her car had broken down, and she needed to talk to him about getting more cash than just for the mortgage. I made him coffee, feeling like a grown up playing hostess. When he grew restless from waiting, he said, “Just tell me what it’s about. Does your ma need more money?”
I’d loved the way he treated me like a grown up. Talked business with me. He was so good-looking, and I suddenly wished I didn’t have braces on my teeth or my school uniform on.
“Yeah, her car needs fixing. Eight hundred bucks, they told her.”
Joey nodded and stood up. He fished in his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. He handed them to me. “This should cover it.”
I realized it must be his own money. “Thanks. Thank you.”
“No problem.” He bent to give me a kiss on each cheek.
It was a terrible year. My mom was angry all the time, and when my dad got out, their fights only got worse. Mom refused to quit her receptionist job despite the fact my dad brought home plenty of cash, so that caused more fights. For my part, I held a grudge against my dad for abandoning us while he was in jail, acting out like a bratty teenager.
My nose burns and tears prickle. It’s a grudge we never resolved before he died.
And was this what I would be giving my baby? A daddy who might do time? A father with a high likelihood of dying a violent death?
I paste a smile on my face and suffer through the insipid baby shower games, the opening of presents, the brunch and the cake, all the while imagining this would soon be happening for me-the same guests, the same presents, the same food. What if my husband was in lock-up?
After the presents have been opened, I help the other ladies bring the food and dishes into Carmen’s kitchen where Donna Teresa corners me.
“Why do you want to marry Joey?” she demands.
I grind my teeth. No suitable response comes to my lips.
“I know you can make him happy-I’m not worried about that,” the older woman says.
“I can?”
“But will you be happy? With LaCosa Nostra?” Joey’s mother makes a grand gesture of her hand around the room. “Because your mother never was, and it caused misery for your father. You want that for Joey? Always having trouble with the other men over his wife?”
Trouble with the other men over his wife?
This was the first I’d heard of this, and it makes me want to lose my lunch.
“What do you mean trouble with the other men?”
Carmen winces. “I didn’t mean that.” She waves a dismissive hand.
I square my shoulders. “Well, you wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it. I need to understand. You said always having trouble with the other men over his wife. What does that mean?”
Carmen throws her hands in the air. “Well, the fights! There were fights over her. She was a liability because she disapproved. It was always a problem. I’m sorry, I guess you wouldn’t have known. You were just a girl.” She shakes her head. “Well, now you see. It doesn’t work that way. You’re either in or out, and I already suspect you’re out, Sophie.”
My face grows hot as different emotions wash over me. Confusion. Anger with the woman for talking about me and my parents. And then dread. Was the fight that ended my father’s life over my mom? Is that what Carmen is saying?
Pain lances through my chest. Was it my mom’s bias that ended my father’s life, took him from us forever? A sick sort of dread settles over me.
I’m not going to repeat history. That’s what Carmen is warning me of. I’m not going to demand Joey draw back from the family only to cause a major rift between him and his brother. Between him and the other men, who are his family.
This thing is his very identity. I can’t take that from him.
I won’t curse Joey to the life my father ledbeing caught between the woman he loves and the organization. I care about him too much.
“No,” I whisper and whirl, searching for my purse to escape.
I stumble out of the house, barely capable of making my goodbyes. My stomach is in knots, and I start crying the moment my car hits the road, tears blurring my vision so much I wish I had wipers for them.
As much as I hate it, I need to break things off with Joey.
I love him, and that’s why I won’t destroy him over my distaste for La Cosa Nostra.
Better to destroy us before we get any further.
Before he has to choose.