Destino (43 page)

“Giovanni is not stupid. You keep meddling he will catch on. Stop interfering. It’s not your damn business. You aren’t my mother!!” Catalina shouted at her, her eyes glistening with tears.

“Catalina? I’m sorry.”

“I am marrying Franco and that’s it!” she stormed out of the room and slammed the door.

****

The place was beautiful. Mira found the lower level decorated in yellow and blue flowers and trimmed in ribbons. The floors shined. Light poured in from every angle, and no door was closed. So many people moved about she recognized no one. In the left corner of the foyer was a string quartet playing a romantic melody that welcomed the guests and family members as they poured through the door. Mira glanced up to the top of the stairs, wondering where Giovanni was.

She decided to go to the outside terrace and try to locate a friendly face. Then a touch came to her hand. Her head turned. “Morning beautiful,” he whispered in her ear. His voice was just one of the things she loved about him. Inhaling his scent and feeling his strong presence envelope her, she smiled to herself once again.

Giovanni ran his hand across her lower tummy slowly then to her hip, turning her in his arms. She opened her eyes to see him dressed, shaven, and looking strikingly handsome. She also sensed the open stares of people. Some stopped their conversations to watch them.

“I think we have an audience,” she said about to lower her arms. He drew her even tighter into his embrace and kissed her softly on the lips. Mira’s eyes stretched. She felt her cheeks flame with a blush, but she didn’t turn away.

“This is Catalina’s day. Let’s not be a distraction.” She lowered her arms and gently pushed free of his hold. He glanced up and those staring looked away or walked off.

“You’re right. But you are mine, and I don’t care who knows it.”

A woman approached. Mira noticed her first. Tall, with dark flowing hair that feathered away from her pretty face. She had clear grey eyes and the body of a model, with a pair of perfect shaped breasts over a petite waist, curvy hips, and long slender legs. Her eyes locked with Mira’s. With dark hair, and olive skin, she wore a tightly fitted green skirt and matching silk blouse.

“
Gio, ciao, bello
,” she said in a seductively low voice. Mira waited for him to react, for him to give her the customary kiss on both of her cheeks as he did the others present. He didn’t. He glanced down at her and his face became a frozen mask of non-expression. The woman extended her hand to Mira. “Hello, I’m Gabriella.”

“I’m Mira, pleased to meet you.”

“Yes! Mira Ellison. I know who you are. I love your work.”

“Thank you.”

Gabriella glanced up at Giovanni who continued to stare at her. “You have a lovely home. After all these years, I finally get to see the great Battaglia place.”

The way he stared at the woman only made the awkwardness more unbearable.

“It was nice to meet you, Mira.” Gabriella said and moved on.

“Who was she?”

“No one.
Andiamo
.” They walked out toward the open terrace where most were gathered. Mira glanced back to see the woman glaring after them. The polite smile had completely drained from her face. Giovanni introduced her to family members. A barrage of uncles and aunts from Palermo, distant cousins that were considered family all smiled politely and most spoke to her in Italian. She struggled to communicate so he translated. The shock and curiosity in their eyes was hard to miss. Apparently Giovanni wasn’t one to parade any woman around them, let alone a black American woman. Giovanni either didn’t notice or simply didn’t care because he led her from one group to the next, making introductions. Mira was reminded of what he shared with her in regards to his mother and the way she was treated in Palermo while pregnant with him. Eve must have felt like she was all alone in the world.

She recovered in time to see Rocco and Zia Carlotta stepping up into view. The old man had abandoned his overalls for jeans and a pressed plaid shirt, his curly silver hair framing his wrinkled sun bleached skin.

“Ciao Bella.” Rocco kissed her left and right cheeks. Mira drew back in time to avoid a kiss to the lips. The conversation was brief. Mira didn’t feel the frost from Zia she had felt upstairs. She was sure the woman couldn’t decide on whether she liked Mira or not. And soon Giovanni was distracted from his little game of meet and greet. Men in his family constantly approached. Several kissed his ring. She tried not to stare, but she couldn’t help but see the mixture of fear and respect in several of their faces.

Rocco and Zia Carlotta left Mira to stand at Giovanni’s side. Her gaze drifted across the room, and she saw Fabiana in a corner talking to Lorenzo. The swelling to Lorenzo’s jaw and eye was ghastly. How he managed to smile at Fabiana and the other guests with all the bruising was beyond her.

“Bella,
Prego
. Have something to eat. I’ll come find you.” Giovanni kissed her hand and walked off.

Alone. She glanced around and found herself again being stared at from every corner of the room. She walked toward the buffet. Fruit, pastries, and sliced meats and cheese were arranged in a colorful display. All she wanted was coffee.

“Looks great doesn’t it?” A soft voice drifted through to the left of her.

Mira looked over to the woman she’d noticed earlier sipping on cappuccino. Gabriella had a thick accent but spoke English well enough.

“Yes, it does.”

They remained next to each other in shared uncomfortable silence. “The place is decorated beautifully. I’ve never actually been inside
Melanzana.
You know how Giovanni is about bringing women here.”

“Actually, I don’t. I’ve stayed here for the past week, by his request of course.”

“Ah yes!” Gabriella exclaimed. “He brought you here to design the wedding dress. I heard all about it.”

Mira cut her eyes and didn’t bother responding. She knew Gabriella was fishing for something, and she had no intention of giving it to her.

“Are you enjoying your stay in Italia?” she pressed. “How long are you here? In Italia I mean.”

“For as long as he likes.” Mira smirked. “Excuse me.”

“Of course.”

Mira walked straight for Fabiana and Lorenzo.

“Hi!” Fabiana said.

“Lorenzo. How are you?”

He chuckled. “I’ve had better days.”

Fabiana touched his arm. “He’s much better than he looks.”

“What happened?”

Lorenzo sipped his juice and placed it back on the table. “I fell. Clumsy in this big ole place in the dark.” Mira glanced to Fabiana who pleaded with her eyes to drop it. She looked away. Giovanni was with Catalina now. He had her in his arms laughing. She considered Catalina’s secret. Her fear that Giovanni would kill his surrogate brother if their affair was ever revealed seemed like a real danger.

Catalina held his hand. They walked across the lawn toward the garden path. Two tents were erected for the family but most crowded the terrace. He glanced once more to Mira who sat at a table with Fabiana and Lorenzo. He had the boys teach Lorenzo a lesson but forgot to remind them not to make it so damn obvious by pounding on his face. The Minettis were present. He could see Franco with his brothers laughing and talking. Franco wasn’t allowed to speak to his bride, so they were kept separated, heavily monitored by Signora Clara, but Giovanni could see Catalina and Franco exchanging shy smiles and glancing to each other often. His father had chosen well. Franco would be a good husband for his sister.

“How are you Catalina?” Giovanni asked her during the stroll.

“A little nervous.” She rested her head in the crook of his arm, sliding her arm around his waist.

“I want to talk to you.” Giovanni began. He stopped and turned her to face him. “You know I love you.
La mia principessa
.”

“I love you too, Giovanni. You have taken such good care of me since Mama and Papa died. I’m happy.”

The love he had for her consumed him. She was his mother’s daughter. Had her beauty, and spirit. She made his ache for his sweet Mama lessen each day. He could never let her go, and he spoiled her rotten to ensure her love for him remained unchanged. “Are you sure you’re ready for this step?”

Catalina nodded. “I trust you Giovanni, I understand why Papa wanted me to marry Franco. He’s nice and I like him. This is what I want.” She rose on her toes and kissed him sweetly on the lips.

Giovanni stared at her in amazement. His kid sister was a woman now. He saw it in her eyes and heard it in her voice. She was barely a teen when they lost their parents. Other than Zia, Catalina had no women in the family really willing to take her in and teach her tradition and their ways. Yet she bloomed into the belladonna that she was supposed to be, and he couldn’t’ be more happy. He had at least got one thing right, protecting and preserving her innocence, keeping her untouched from his world.

“Do you know that Mama and Papa would be so proud of you?” He touched her cheek.

“Yes, I do, and Papa would be proud of you too, Giovanni. You have taken care of us all, and I know it mustn’t have been easy. Now it's time for you to take care of yourself. After I’m gone, I want you to start a family of your own. You love her, don’t you?” she asked.

Giovanni looked past her to the dining area and thought of Mira. Looking back into his sister’s eyes, “I believe I do.”

“She’s great. A little pushy, but I think she’s great.” Catalina chuckled.

“Enough about me. Today is your day. It’s time I give you your wedding gift,” he said. “I’ve also spoken to Franco, and he has accepted on your behalf.”

Catalina grinned. “What is it?”

“My gift to you and him is your own villa here in Sorrento, plus your dowry will provide for him to expand his father’s bottling business in Napoli. You won’t be going to Palermo.”

Catalina leapt at him, and he caught her in his arms. She hugged his neck tightly.
“Grazie amore di I esso!
”

Giovanni lowered her to the ground. “I couldn’t let you go to Palermo if you wanted so desperately to stay.” He kissed her on her cheeks. Yes, he indeed did this for selfish reasons. His anxiety lessened at the thought of keeping his sweet Catalina near, so he could protect her always.

“I am so happy!” she wept. “Does Lorenzo know? Did you tell him?”

“He knows.”

“I must see him. I love you both so much!”

Before he could stop her she bolted for the terrace. Giovanni walked behind her. She found Lorenzo seated with the ladies and plopped into his lap. Hugging and squealing, it took a moment before she noticed how he winced, and the bruises on his face. Giovanni approached as she removed Lorenzo’s sunglasses from his face. “Who did this?” Catalina shouted.

“It’s nothing.” Lorenzo said.

Catalina rose from his lap. She whirled on her brother with her bottom lip trembling. A hush fell over those gathered. “Did you see what they’ve done to him? Do you see? You punish who ever hurt him, Giovanni. You punish them good!” she said angrily.

“That’s enough, Catalina.” Zia marched over and took her by the hand. She shot Lorenzo and Giovanni a withering glare before dragging a weeping Catalina away.

“Drama Queen! That’s what we called her as a bambina,” Lorenzo chuckled and the men all laughed. Mira stared at Giovanni, and he made a point to not return her stare. Lorenzo rose.

Lorenzo kissed Fabiana. Without a word he walked off the terrace and Giovanni followed, as they circled the building they fell in step with each other. It was his cousin who spoke first.

“How can we get past this?”

“I don’t trust you.” Giovanni said. “I haven’t heard one single reason from you why I should.”

“I’m your blood, your brother.”

“You’re a fucking stain. The only reason why you’re still breathing is out of respect for our fathers. Don’t push me Lo, because I’m not stupid. It makes no sense that you would become Giuseppe’s pawn against my wishes. He either has something on you or you’re guilty of more than you confessed. I struggle with how to not cut your lying tongue from your mouth with every breath you take.” Giovanni stopped. They were far enough from earshot.

“I fucked this up royally. I’m done with the lies Gio. I’m standing here exposed. I respect you, the family, the honor we share. Enemies are circling. Angelo Calderone wants blood, and the Nigerians aren’t going to sit back and be bystanders. You need to trust me again. I will earn it. But don’t cut off my balls. I am the last of your blood.
La vostra famiglia
. Flavio is not! He will never love you like I do, protect you as I would. You can’t shut me out. Not when we are destined for war.”

Shaking his head sadly in response to Giovanni’s silence he looked away, “It can’t come to this.”

“It has. After the wedding I want you out of my sight. Domi will work with you to see my plans through. But you and I, our brotherhood, it’s done.”

Lorenzo smirked. “So I report to Domi? He’s finally got to be at your side.”

“He’s more loyal than you’ve ever been. I can trust Domi. He may be the only man I can trust.”