Chapter Two
Terra
Seeing Michael sitting at my father’s desk filled me with mixed emotions. On one hand, I felt proud that he’d been placed in the position he was in. On the other, I felt that he was undoubtedly next on the ATF’s list of criminals to be arrested.
As I stepped in front of the desk, he remained immersed in his work, sitting with his nose buried in a ledger. I sat in the same chair I’d always chosen when I came to talk to my father, and although I knew that he was aware of my presence, he didn’t immediately acknowledge me. I looked around the room.
Other than Michael’s presence, nothing in the room had changed. The books, furniture, and artwork were just as they’d been for my entire life. A false impression of wellbeing lingered. In our lives, however, I realized everything was different. Resolving my father’s absence had consumed Michael. Finding a manner to accept his incarceration had consumed mine.
I gazed blankly around the room, hoping to find an answer. After a moment, he looked up. It seemed his mind was elsewhere. He forced a crooked smile. “Busy day, sorry.”
It bothered me that things had changed, but there was nothing I could do about it. We had all changed after my father was arrested. Changing back to the way things were wasn’t within the limits of my comprehension. At least not now.
“No complaints,” I said. “I just wondered if you had a minute to talk.”
His eyebrows rose. “Give me a few to get wrapped up?”
I smiled. “Sure.”
He lowered his eyes to the ledger.
Although I was several months away from marrying Michael, we had never sat down and had a serious discussion about business. His work and his private life were two separate entities, and my involvement with his work was nil.
I had found my separation from the reality of his criminal activity provided comfort, at least until now. I’d lived with my head buried in the sand regarding my father’s involvement with the Mafia, and I decided I wasn’t going to do so with Michael. I needed to mentally prepare myself for whatever might happen in the future, and doing so required full acceptance of his participation with the nonexistent mob.
As difficult as it may have been to do so, I intended to find a way to accept that he was taking over for my father, and support him in his endeavors.
“Alright.” He pushed his chair away from the desk. “I’ve reached a stopping point.”
I looked at him and smiled, not really knowing how to start the conversation. Discussing something that had been off-limits for a lifetime wasn’t easy. After an awkward moment of him looking at me like I was mentally unstable, I inhaled a shallow breath and began.
“I want to talk to you about the Mafia,” I said. “I know you’ve moved into my father’s role. It’s pretty easy to see that everyone’s answering to you.”
He leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh. “There is no Mafia.”
“Okay.” I gave a halfhearted nod. “Well. You’ve moved into my father’s role in ‘the business.’ True?”
He leaned forward. “Somewhat. I’m doing my best to take care of matters while he’s away.”
I felt like I’d moved a mountain. I rubbed my hands together and scooted my chair a little closer to the desk. “Alright. Well, the thought of you following in his footsteps bothers me. But I understand—”
“Terra, look. Someone must look after the business. There’s a lot more to it than you’ll ever know, and far more than I could ever take the time to explain.”
He hadn’t allowed me to finish. I had no intention of starting an argument or making him uncomfortable. All I wanted to do was let him know that whatever he was going to be involved in, I supported him wholeheartedly.
“Not those footsteps. I like it that he trusts you enough to put you in charge. I meant following him to prison. I don’t want that to happen. All I’m asking you to do is be careful. I know you will be.” I offered a smile of reassurance. “I just need to say it. So, be careful. And know that I support you. I do. I don’t want to know what it is that you do, but whatever it is, know I’ll support you. Now and always.”
It felt good to say it, but allowing the statement to become reality wasn’t going to be easy. Something was going on with the business, and it was easy to see. Michelle’s father had been missing for six weeks, there were two dead government agents that I knew of, and my father was in jail waiting to go on trial for murder.
Accepting that Michael was the man in charge wasn’t easy, but I needed to do my best to do so, regardless.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” he said. “Believe me.”
Bullshit.
According to my mother, it was the job of an understanding Italian wife to smile and say “thank you,” so that’s what I was going to do. I knew he was only saying, “There’s nothing to worry about,” so I wouldn’t worry, but I was going to worry no matter what.
I turned my palms up and forced a big grin. “Thank you.”
“Did you get the menus printed?” he asked.
I gazed down at the floor. “Not yet.”
“What about the cake?” he asked. “Did you sample the cake and make a decision?”
All the wedding planning had been set aside after they arrested my father. I was embarrassed by what I hadn’t done.
I looked up. “No, not yet.”
“You’ve got plenty to worry about without worrying about me. I’ll be just fine.” He stood. “You take care of the wedding, and I’ll take care of the business. How’s that?”
I smiled an honest smile and then stood. “Sounds good to me.”
He walked around the edge of the desk and spread his arms wide. “Come here.”
Michael was amazing. He had the ability to make me feel better without much effort at all. Whether he wanted to acknowledge that I was going to support him or not, at least I knew that I told him I would, and that he heard me.
For him to verbally accept my statement would be to admit his involvement, and he wasn’t going to do that any more than my father would.
We embraced in a hug.
Being in his arms made all my thoughts regarding the ATF, Michelle’s father, and even of my own father disappear. It may have only lasted for the short time that we stood there beside the desk, but for that moment, my mind was clear of worry.
And I clung to that feeling of cleanliness like my life depended on it.