Dante nodded slowly. “I hope Ines, Pietro and Samuel forgive me eventually.”
“You did what was right.”
“Did I?” His eyes flickered with doubt and worse with guilt. “I ripped Serafina away from her family. I allowed her to leave for an uncertain future. The Falcones are unpredictable at best. They are madmen. I only met their father Benedetto once and trust me, any child of his must be deranged.”
“She chose him, Dante. She isn’t a child.”
“I know, but it’s difficult to admit that eventually children outgrow the rules we set for them.”
“Why don’t you eat and lie down a bit afterward?”
Dante shook his head. “I invited your parents for dinner. I need to talk to your father. We need to make plans to ensure the Outfit’s power.”
I sighed and kissed his cheek. “At least, eat something.”
Dante took a slice of cheese and slid it into his mouth. I stood but Dante caught my hand. “I want you present when I talk to your father.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. He gave a terse nod. With an encouraging smile, I walked out, leaving him to his thoughts.
Leonas rushed my way. “Can Ricci and R.J. come over tomorrow?”
“R.J.?” I asked.
“That’s Rocco’s new name. It’s much cooler.”
I tousled Leonas’ hair.
“Mom!” he said indignantly, ducking away from my fingers. “My hair!”
I laughed. Did the vanity phase start this early nowadays? God, he was growing up so quickly, and Anna too. A deep longing filled me, for another baby, another small human to take care of and remind us of the beauty of life and our glowing future. Because I still believed in it: a good future.
“Of course, they can.” I’d been worried how the Rocco senior situation would affect Leonas’ friendship with the man’s sons, but luckily it hadn’t. His lack of fatherly compassion had something good after all. Leonas grinned, smoothed out his hair, and rushed away again. Almost nine. I needed to organize his birthday party even if it felt like we were stuck in a time of mourning. Life had to go on, especially for our children.
Dante and I had been trying to get pregnant for two years now. It hadn’t worked. I’d even considered doing hormone treatment but with everything else that had been going on, I didn’t want to push my body more than necessary. Maybe I had to accept that I was too old, even if many women got children well past forty and I was only thirty-six.
I went down into the basement, past our panic room, and picked up the box with Christmas decorations. I hadn’t found time to put them up yet, but now that we’d returned to Chicago for good, I wanted to create a Christmas spirit. After I’d sorted through the decoration, I called Anna and Leonas down. Anna had spent the last hour on the phone with Luisa and didn’t look as crushed anymore.
“But we don’t have a tree yet,” Anna said thoughtfully, as she lifted one of the delicate glass baubles.
“You’re right. We’ll get one tomorrow. Let’s decorate the rest of the house for now. How about you prettify all the fireplaces?”
Anna and Leonas grabbed a few items and dashed toward the fireplace in the living room where they began to brainstorm the best decoration. I watched them for a bit, my heart warming.
A few minutes later, the bell rang and Gabby hurried toward the front door. Zita wasn’t as mobile anymore—she was getting old—and so Gabby had been taking over more of her duties.
My parents stepped inside. Dad, too, had become completely gray and the wrinkles in his face had become deep furrows, but Mamma led a strict food regime and so he was still fit for mid-sixty. Mamma kept dying her hair brown, too vain to let a hint of gray show. She smiled when she spotted me, despite the anxiety in her eyes, and rushed toward me. We hugged longer than usual. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
Papa embraced me as well and kissed my forehead. “How’s everyone?”
“The kids are putting up the Christmas decoration, and Dante is in his office.”
Papa nodded with a solemn expression.
“Mamma, can you help Leonas and Anna? Papa and I need to talk to Dante.”
Mamma nodded and hurried into the living room.
Papa searched my face. “He puts a great deal of trust in you. And he’s absolutely right. You are clever and sensible.”
“I won’t become Consigliere,” I said firmly, surprising me but not Papa. I’d occasionally fantasized about the position, but after everything that had happened with the Camorra, I’d realized I didn’t want to be part of decisions like that. I didn’t want to be responsible for having teenage boys tortured, for all the other horrible things happening in this war. I’d still give Dante my opinion if he asked for it, and even if he didn’t, but that was all.