I quickly realized that Dante slamming me against the door was not his idea of punishment. This occurred over the next few days. Dante treated me even more coldly than before and I could barely see him because he was too busy looking for Frank and his accomplices. He no longer even sought me out at night, and although I was too proud to admit it in front of him, my body longed for him to touch me again.
*** One afternoon, about a week after my messy meeting with Frank, I met Rocco Scuderi in the lobby of our house. “Valentina, it’s good to see you,” he said as he headed for the front door.
I smiled, even though I was surprised. Scuderi always treated me with kindness and respect, but I did not have a personal relationship with him as I did with his wife, or with Aria.
“I have a favor to ask you,” he said.
“Of course.” It was unusual for a Councilor to approach his Chief’s wife and ask her for a favor, but he was also my uncle, so maybe that changed things.
“You know my daughter Gianna is supposed to marry Matteo Vitiello, but she’s still a little hesitant about marriage.”
From what I heard, the hesitation didn’t even hide Gianna’s feelings about her marriage to Matteo, but I nodded anyway.
“I thought maybe you could talk to her?”
I had never been very close to Gianna so the request surprised me. “Wouldn’t it be better if Aria talked to Gianna? After all, she is married to another Vitiello?” “Gianna doesn’t listen to her sister. I think someone who is not a close relative might have a better chance of getting in touch with her. I was Gianna’s cousin, but of course he was right.
“I can try, of course, but I can’t promise that she will listen to what I have to say.”
“Trying is all you can do,” he said, with an almost resigned air.
“Is there anything in particular you’d like me to talk to you about?”
“Maybe you can tell her that marriage doesn’t mean she’ll be trapped in a gilded cage? I mean, look at you, you’re even allowed to work.”
I did, but I was the huge exemption.
Even Gianna would know that . And even if Dante started pushing his men to make their wives work, that would not help Gianna. She would live under the rule of the Vitiellos in New York. “I will do my best.”
“Thank you.”
“Why don’t you and your family come over for dinner tomorrow?”
“That’s a great idea. That way Gianna won’t get suspicious and you can speak on the subject casually.” We kissed for a while before he bowed his head once more in thanks and left.
I closed the door and headed for the kitchen. Zita was preparing dinner – canneloni filled with ricotta cheese apparently – when I entered. Gaby was ironing Dante’s shirts in a corner of the kitchen, far enough away from the stove so that there was no risk of the fabric absorbing the ‘smell.
“Zita, I invited the Scuderi family for dinner tomorrow.”
Zita tightened her lips. “A little more time to prepare would have been nice. I have to go shopping, work out a menu and then cook everything.
“I know, but you’re not going to cook.”
Zita’s lips parted but no words came out. Gaby had also stopped ironing to stare at me.
“I will take care of everything. I used to cook a lot in my first marriage and I want to make dinner for our guests.
“Are you sure that’s wise? They expect a certain standard.”
“Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
“And what are you going to cook?” asked Zita skeptically.
I smiled. “It’s a surprise. Now I’ll let you get back to your work.” Winking at Gaby who was openly staring at me, I left the kitchen and headed for Dante’s office and knocked.
“Have a seat.”
I slipped inside. Dante was intent on cleaning his weapons. They were laid out on a towel on his desk. “I have invited Rocco Scuderi and his family for dinner tomorrow night. I hope that’s okay with you?”
He barely gave me a glance. Evidently he was still angry with me. “I assume that’s how you can talk to his daughter Gianna?”
“He asked you first, didn’t he?” “I’m your husband. Rocco wanted to make sure it was okay to approach you.
Sometimes their unwritten rules and traditions drove me crazy. “Of course.”
“Don’t forget to tell Zita and Gaby so they can prepare everything for our guests.” He rubbed a grease spot on the gun barrel.
“I’ve already done that. But I’ll prepare dinner myself.”
This made him roll his eyes as surprise flashed across his face. “Can you cook?”
“YES. I used to cook a lot during my first marriage,” I said, and of course it was the wrong thing to say because Dante’s expression darkened again. “You haven’t found Frank yet?”
“NO. We haven’t. He’s probably hiding, if he has any sense.” I nodded, then stood by the door. I could tell the discussion was over for Dante, but I hated how tense things had become between us. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but then I lost my courage and left without adding anything else.
*** I didn’t even realize how much I missed cooking until I got behind the stove again. Zita was a constant presence behind me, with hawk eyes watching my every move, but I was confident in what I was doing. I had cooked every part of today’s meal countless times. To start, Veal Tonnato, followed by Saltimbocca with homemade gnocchi and green salad, and finally, Tiramisu. As I worked quietly alongside Gaby and Zita, I could occasionally glimpse a hint of approval in the older woman’s expression. I mixed it all together for the sauce that accompanied the cooked veal for appetizer before turning my attention to Zita. “Would you try it? I’d like to know if it’s good.”
I knew it was as it should be, but I wanted to show Zita that I appreciated her input. She stopped cutting the endive for the salad and walked over to me drying her hands on her apron. I stepped back as she dipped a spoon into the tuna sauce. She nodded slowly before turning her brown eyes on me. “Good.” I knew then that things would be good between us. I smiled and took a quick glance at the clock. “I have to change. I can’t welcome our guests with stained clothes.
“We’ll take care of the rest,” Gaby assured me.
“Thank you,” I said as I ran upstairs, feeling better than I had in a while.
*** The Scuderi arrived forty minutes later. My Aunt Ludovica was in the front with her husband Rocco holding a hand on nine-year-old Fabiano’s shoulder. I greeted his parents before turning to him. “You’ve grown so tall.”
He smiled at me beaming, straightening his shoulders even more. His father gave him a look that made the smile slip from his face. Why did Made Men have to be so strict with their children? My father had always spoiled me, but my brother had never heard a word of praise from him. I let them in because it had started snowing again. I couldn’t wait for the winter to end. The darkness and cold made it even harder to be optimistic about my marriage.
“Girls, say hello to the Chief’s wife,” Ludovica said sternly.
“I am still their cousin. They should treat me no differently now that I am married to Dante. I hugged Gianna who was beautiful with her red hair sparkling with scattered snowflakes, then her younger sister Lily, who also became more and more adorable by the day.
Dante chose that moment to join us. He shook Rocco’s hand, then patted Fabiano’s shoulder with one of his kindest smiles before kissing the hands of Ludovica, Gianna and Lily. The latter blushed furiously while Gianna seemed to want to be anywhere but here. Dante moved on with Fabiano and Rocco. I stayed with the women of the family as we made our way to the dining room table.
One topic was not mentioned during dinner: Gianna’s marriage to Matteo. It should have been the center of attention under normal circumstances, since it was less than six months away, but I had the feeling that the Scuderi family was desperate to avoid a scene. After receiving my fair share of praise for the first two courses, I stood up and turned to Gianna, who was staring at the table with a frown.
“Can you help me with dessert, Gianna?”
She raised her head, suspicion written clearly on her face, but she knew that good manners dictated that she agreed. She rose from her chair, cast a sharp look at her mother, and then followed me through the door to our left. “Mother asked you to talk some sense into me, didn’t she?” she murmured as we headed toward the kitchen.
“No, it was your father.”
“Oh. Shouldn’t you have lied to me? That’s what most people do.
I shrugged. “I think it’s easier if you know the truth.”
We walked into the kitchen. Zita cut the tiramisu into squares and arranged them on plates while Gaby decorated them with fruit. “We’ll take over from here,” I told them. They seemed to understand. With a little bow to Gianna, they slipped away toward the staff room. I grabbed the spatula and put another piece of tiramisu on a plate, then motioned Gianna to spread raspberries, strawberries, mango slices, and starfruit around. “So talk,” Gianna said.
“I know you don’t want to marry Matteo.”
Gianna huffed. “I’d rather cut off my fingers and eat them .”
I glanced at her. “All women in our world face the same problem as you. Very few are lucky enough to choose their husbands. An arranged marriage need not be a bad thing.”
“Why? Because love can grow over time?” said Gianna in what I imagine was an imitation of her mother’s voice.
“Yes, that’s an option.”
Gianna looked at him truely. “Come on. I’m not blind. Don’t tell me there’s love between you and Dante. You act like fucking strangers.” He shut his mouth tightly. “That was rude.”
It was, but I couldn’t blame her for speaking her mind and the truth. “We haven’t been married long.”
“Shouldn’t two months be enough to know whether you can stand someone or not? I knew after my first meeting with Matteo that I didn’t like that arrogant asshole.
I put down the spatula and leaned against the counter.
“What about Aria and Luca? She seems happy with her arranged marriage.
“Aria is a pushover. If I had to marry Luca, either he or I would be dead by now. And Matteo is just as bad.”
“Aria made the best of a situation from which she could not escape.
This is all we can do.
“No it isn’t. She could have escaped if she had been braver.”
I paused. Was he saying what I think he was saying?
“No one escapes the crowd.”
Gianny shrugged. “Maybe no one really tried.”
“Oh, there have been enough people who have tried, but in the end your past always catches up with you.”
“I know,” he said softly, then pointed to the plates.
“Shouldn’t we serve dessert now?”
“Yes you’re right.” We loaded our arms with plates and returned to the dining room. Gianna’s parents cast hopeful glances at me. Dante looked at Gianna, then met my gaze. He seemed to know what the Scuderi didn’t know: no one could get in touch with Gianna. Her words about Dante and me continued to bother me for the rest of the evening. It made me realize how far my marriage to Dante was from the relationship I desired.
That evening I decided to help Gaby and Zita wash dishes in a desperate attempt to keep myself busy. We were almost finished when Dante came in, staring blankly at the scene before him without any emotion. I was in dishwater up to my elbows. ” You can go home,” he told Zita and Gaby, who didn’t need to say it twice. They quickly took their leave. I removed my arms from the washboard and took the dishcloth Dante handed me. “Thank you.”
“You are an excellent cook.”
I ventured a glance at him, wondering if he would come over to tell me. “I’m glad you enjoyed the dinner.”
He nodded. I brushed a lock of hair out of my face, then stretched my tired muscles. Dante’s eyes scanned my body.
I became acutely aware of how close we were and how long it had been since we had last had sex. Had he changed his mind?
“I guess your conversation with Gianna didn’t go well.”
I sighed. “Of course not. How can I convince Gianna that an arranged marriage will not make her unhappy? I’m the last person who would listen.”
Dante smiled briefly. “You’re right.” He took a step. ” Then I’ll go back to work.” I didn’t try to stop him. Maybe a few weeks ago I would have made an attempt at seduction, but today I lacked energy. I slumped against the counter as I watched Dante striding out of the kitchen.