There is a price I pay for all the expensive things Papa pays for in order to placate me. I didn’t need a degree in psychiatry to figure that out when I was twelve. Instead of doing what the other kids did, I had to go home, and there would be a bribe.
Laura is engaged to Marco, a man who works under her father, so I know it won’t be long before I will be too. In fact, I’m surprised Papa hasn’t already arranged something.
With our large breasts and curvaceous hips, I’m the same size as Laura but our days of sharing a wardrobe ended when I went off to college. And the days of dressing chic to go to the movies or a concert in Rome are infrequent. We’re not kids anymore even though we are young. We tend to mature faster in our world.
I will admit I love the Jonas Brothers, and who can resist Adam Levine? Sure, I love Italian pop culture as well, but everyone follows the American trends. For the past twenty years, English has been taught in our schools so many Italians speak it perfectly, including myself.
In Rome, everyone wants to be so cosmopolitan. Even Germans who visit there would rather not speak their native tongue. I find it strange. Ironic that, with all of these cultural changes, rules that hold women back remain the same. Antiquated laws still govern our lives, and women still struggle for success in the business world dominated by men.
Once the sun dips below the horizon, I go inside and make my way down the marble staircase, my pink kitten heels clicking on each step. I make sure to hold on to the mahogany banister as these steps are endless and treacherous. There is an elevator, but I can always use the exercise.
The smell of fresh seafood greets my pert nose and my stomach grumbles in anticipation. Mama had the chef cook my favorite dinner tonight and I hope it isn’t to buffer bad news.
The table that seats up to twenty guests sits atop Italian tile the color of chocolate pudding. The Versace china with the matching red velvet tablecloth and gold cloth napkins give the impression my mother has great taste, but an interior designer picked out everything.
She pretends it’s all her doing, but her friends know she paid the most sought-after decorating firm in Italy to redecorate the house, the dining room being her most recent upgrade.
“About time,” Giovi says as I make my appearance. My brother looks a lot like Papa. They are both tall and their broad shoulders carry the stature of their positions. Giovi is a made man and at thirty, Papa is grooming him in the business.
“Shut up,” I quip taking my seat beside him.
“Basta, you’re both too old for such nonsense.” Papa speaks as he pours the wine and we fall silent.
The guards don’t bark as much as Papa, but then again, everything is routine. Get in the car, get out, go here, go there. I want to go away and run my own practice and call my own shots. But I’d have to go where no one knows my lineage. Even though it’s for my own safety, I abhor the idea of being some made man’s wife. I’ll always have to walk a step behind him. I pray that he will treat me well because I have no say in the matter.
I should be grateful for what I have, but I can only imagine all the bad things my family does to make the amount of money it takes to live our fancy lifestyle with our own jet and numerous properties.
There was a famous crime boss in New York who said he never trusted a man who didn’t serve time. For Sicilians, it’s the same attitude towards those who aren’t made men. The soldiers know that few of them will move up the ranks with its limited positions and the greed of those who run the organization want that money for themselves. Our influence and power extend well past our small island and the ‘family’ grows larger with each passing year.
I’ve seen Giovi become more mature when he’s not out fucking off with his friends. Papa is giving him more responsibility, and he has to pass the tests or there won’t be anyone left in the family to run the business if something should happen to Papa.
When the leader dies unexpectedly, there is usually a power grab. Internal fighting transpires and maybe another boss of one of the families will rise to power. In reality, one never knows how it will unfold. Depending on the situation, there can be a smooth transition to power. This is why Papa is grooming Giovi, not so much for today but for the future. One day this will all belong to my brother and he’ll need to lead. Which means that papa probably won’t be here anymore.
The damp air blowing through the open windows has a chill to it and soon the shutters will be closed for the night.
I place a cloth napkin in my lap and lament that I’m still living at home even after graduating from Oxford. Many would say it’s a blessing and not a curse, and things could be worse.
“What’s the matter, Valentina? Your nose is out of joint again. It’s nothing new. Sit, eat.” Papa fills his plate and the food is passed around.
“Luciano, please,” Mama pleads with him to be nice. She of all people should know it’s not in his psyche to behave any better.
Her hair is dark enough to look almost dark blue. Her eyes are dark too, giving her an exotic Mesopotamian look.
“It’s fine, Mama.” I offer her some solace as she can only do so much. I swallow my resentment for papa along with a mouthful of the antipasti.
Our wine glasses are refilled with only the best Chianti. There is no need to save money or drink the less expensive red table wine that is commonplace for everyday use.
“Papa, did you think about my business plan?”
“Yes, and no, there’s no way you can see patients here, everyone knows you. It would be a security nightmare.”
I scoff, “What if I got plastic surgery and saw clients online? It’s the wave of the future. Better yet, dress up with wigs.”
“I want pictures of that. You should have gone into art. That you can do in a room like Rapunzel,” Giovi mocks me.
I turn my nose up at the suggestion and deliver a nice slap to his upper arm. We are close, he’s just not mature enough to see the rest of his life filled with social complications like I do.
No man on the island dares to date me, and I’m desperate to get laid. No doubt Papa will have me married off to a lieutenant, probably a Sicilian, as a way to keep me close to home where he can secure my safety.