La Famiglia (42 page)

“You say all of this with so much pride,” Marietta said without judgment. “How does your faith fit in with this?”

Catalina smiled. “Everyone is given a path in life. God chose mine at birth. I have no problem with my faith or my lifestyle. To me one can’t exist without the other.”

“Well that doesn’t make me feel better. In fact it only confirms that we are in danger in here,” Marietta whispered.

Catalina laughed. “Possibly. There is always danger. But we don’t live our lives according to it. I’ve made this trip many times with no trouble. We’re safe. Trust me.”

For some reason Marietta doubted Princess’ confidence. It seemed like she purposefully walked into the lion’s den. Possibly to make sure her Prince learned of her actions and would react with concern. Hell Marietta has played those games before with men she wanted to tame. She knew how to piss a man off, or at the very least get a reaction. Maybe staying at Villa Mare Blu was the best.

Food arrived. Marietta’s mouth watered.

“
Focaccia
is the very best here. Belina makes it so it melts in your mouth.” Catalina pointed at the hot bread roll filled with meat, cheese and onions. “Because it’s close to summer she’s given us a taste of
alfresco
too. Yummy!”

Marietta chuckled.  After three glasses of wine all flavors exploded on her tongue. She ate voraciously. Stopping to comment on one thing then another. Swallowing and stuffing her face some more.

“Hungry?” Catalina asked amused.

“It’s good,” she said with an embarrassed smile.

Catalina nodded her head in agreement. “I told you!”

Marietta learned a lot from Catalina about the young girl’s life in the family of men. She also learned about Lorenzo’s likes and dislikes. Especially when it came to cooking. For instance Marietta never knew that he hated fruity dishes. She hadn’t made any and couldn’t recall him ever eating any fruit when around her.

“I’m allergic to mushrooms,” Marietta volunteered.

“Really!” Catalina exclaimed. “So is the
Donna
. They make her ill. She told me once she got really sick as a child when she ate a pizza with them on it.”

“Oh my God! I gag as soon as they come in my mouth.” Marietta shivered. “Guess she and I have more in common than I thought.” Marietta smiled. She downed the last of the wine. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Downstairs, to the back of the restaurant. And dn’t be alarmed but Leonardo will go with you.”  Catalina shrugged. “You get used to him after a while.”

“What about you, up here alone? With them?” Marietta looked over to a few men now drinking and laughing.

Catalina smiled. “Trust me. I’m
la picolletta
.” She tossed a challenging look toward a table of men. “They wouldn’t dare.” 

Marietta liked her style. Catalina had an edge to her that reminded her of some of the hard chicks she used to run the streets of the south side of Chicago with before she ran away for good. She pushed back her chair and stood. When she did, so did the tall brooding bodyguard that shadowed them. Marietta picked up her purse and started to walk toward the exit. A man to the left said her pussy smelled like chocolate. He thought because he said it in his native tongue she wouldn’t understand.

She leveled her glare. “Your breath reminds me of shit!” She shot back in Italian.

The others at his table roared with laughter. The man’s stare darkened and his face flushed pink with rage. When Marietta looked back Catalina raised her glass in a mock toast. Marietta descended the stairs and headed to the back of the restaurant with a bit more confidence. Hell Lorenzo was her man. She had nothing to be afraid of.

She found the bathroom to be more than just a private one. There were several stalls and a separate room for changing. Odd to see such a layout in such a quaint place. She wasted no time locating an empty stall to go in and relieve herself. She wiped and flushed. The manic urge to release had now passed. When she left the stall she found herself alone in the bathroom. So she took the time to adjust her skirt and her halter-top. She then washed her hands.

The door opened behind her.

Marietta turned off the tap and lifted her eyes to the mirror. “Gemma? What the hell are you doing here?”

Gemma grabbed her by the hand and dragged her to the closest stall. She forced her inside and closed the door. She looked frazzled, her cinnamon hair loose about her face, perspiration dotting the top of her brow and lip. She wore a green dress and sweater which didn’t really suit the warm summer weather.

“We don’t have much time,” Gemma said, or rather panted.

“What’s wrong—” Marietta was silenced when Gemma’s hand went up abruptly over her mouth. Startled her eyes stretched. Gemma leaned in close to whisper her words.

“You married him. How could you? After I told you not to trust him.”

Marietta forced her hand off her mouth. “How did you know I was here? What are you doing in Sicily?” she demanded.

“I can’t believe you married him!” Gemma said in a hushed angry tone.

“I wanted to call you. I couldn’t find you. I love Lorenzo. You’re wrong about him.” Marietta hugged her neck.

“Listen to me.” She brought down Marietta’s arms. Her eyes bordered with tears, her nose was red as if she had indeed been crying. “You’re in danger. This is my fault. Forgive me,” Gemma wept.

“Okay you’re scaring me,” Marietta said.

“It’s time you know the truth about the Battaglias,” Gemma said.

“What is the truth?” Marietta asked.

“Lorenzo lies to you. He knows who your father is and what happened to your mother. All the lies are connected to Giovanni’s wife.”

“His wife?” Marietta couldn’t digest the information. “Mirabella?”

“Yes! Mirabella. She’s your sister!”

Marietta double blinked. She wasn’t sure she heard her right. “Are you insane?”

“Dammit, Marietta! Damn it! I can’t explain it to you here.” Gemma opened her purse. She forced a letter into Marietta’s hand. “Take this. Read this. It has everything in it. My number is in there. Promise you will call me tonight? So I can help you get out of there.”

“I don’t believe you,” Marietta said. She pushed the letter hard on Gemma.

“Take the letter damn it! Have I ever lied to you? Ever?” Gemma asked.

“Yes you have. By saying Capriccio was my father when it’s evident you knew more! And I’ve met Giovanni Battaglia’s wife. She’s not my sister. It’s not possible.” Marietta said. She found it hard to breathe and speak at the same time. And then the deepening despair deadened all of her faculties. She couldn’t speak, move, or do anything to defend the attack on her heart. She stood there like stone as Gemma berated her.

“Yes. She. Is.” Gemma said again, slow and precisely. “You two are twins. You were separated and then kept apart by a conspiracy that traces all the way back to here. Sicily. The letter explains it. And the proof of what I’m telling you is at Villa Mare Blu. Mirabella should have it. Read the damn letter.” Once again the letter was placed in Marietta’s hand. She didn’t reject it this time. How could she? Gemma left her like that in the bathroom. Staring at the letter she felt a strange almost melancholy type of emotion and then an ineffable sense of sadness descended on her. Marietta walked out of the bathroom stall in a trance. She forced the letter into her purse with shaky hands.

The walk back to Catalina was the hardest of her life. With every step she processed the truth from the fiction that had been her life. Marietta was never one for restraint or discipline. She had to employ both to keep from bolting out of the restaurant doors to run down Gemma and demand a reason for the hurtful lies. Lorenzo betrayed her?
Bullshit!
Mirabella Battaglia is her long lost twin?
Bullshit!
Bullshit! Bullshit!
What was Gemma’s angle with all of this?

“You okay? I thought you had fell in?” Catalina asked.

“I’m fine.” Marietta sat. She hoped her smile was convincing. It was hard to maintain it with bile rising in her throat. Marietta tried to steady her breathing. “On second thought I don’t feel well. Do you mind if we leave? Besides Lo is supposed to call me to tell me he arrived.”

“Aww… and I was just having some fun with you,” Catalina said. She winked. “I’m kidding.” She scooted from the table and rose. Marietta did the same. She barely saw or heard anything on their way out. Catalina stopped a few times to speak to people as if she were a celebrity. Marietta kept her hand on her purse and her eyes on the door.

Outside of the restaurant she took down deep breaths to fill her lungs with air. Still she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She bit hard on her lip to keep her tears of doubt at bay.

Marietta had known Gemma since she was a baby. A family friend who always helped her endure the smothering love of her adoptive mother and physical and verbal abuse of her adoptive father. Gemma was family. When Marietta was a teen Gemma shared that she met her mother, only briefly. She gave her the baby bracelet and told her of Capriccio. Gemma had been the true constant in her life. She wouldn’t lie to her. But she had to be. Because what she said made no sense.

“You’re quiet,” Catalina said, as they drove out of Palermo.

“Am I?” Marietta tossed back with casual ease. The truth was her body was tensed all over to read the letter inside her purse. It was a physical pain.

“You sure you okay?” Catalina asked.

“I am. I have a question. Ah, is Mir, uh, the
Donna
, is she adopted?” Marietta asked.

“Adopted? No. She was raised by her grandparents.”

“Really?” Marietta’s voice cracked with emotion. Repressed tears kept clouding her vision. She put on her sunglasses to cover them. “Where is her mother, her father?”

Catalina dropped her head back and her brow furrowed as if she were thinking it over. “Her father? Hmm? I never heard her speak of him. I think Gio said he was dead. I think. But she told me her mother died when she was a baby. Her mother was a drug addict.”

“What?” Marietta’s fist clenched. “Dead? Drugs? You sure?”

“Yes.” Catalina nodded. “She doesn’t talk of them. But she has this bracelet. A really sweet baby bracelet that her mother gave her and it has her name on it.”

“No. That’s not true.” Marietta said. “It’s not!”

“Huh?” Catalina frowned. “What’s not true?”

“Nothing. Sorry, my head hurts.” Marietta put her forehead in her palm with her elbow resting on the door. “Tell me about this bracelet? What did she say about it?”

“She didn’t say anything about it. I was the one that told her about the weirdness.”

“What’s weird?” Marietta asked.

“It has a stamp of Del Stavio’s signature on the clasp. But it couldn’t be his insignia.” Catalina waved it off.

“Why is that?” Marietta mumbled with concealed restraint.

“Oh, just because. Remember what I told you about the
Mafioso
? How each
Don
has
famiglia
rule? Well there were five
dons
of
Sicilia
. They pretty much lorded over this island from coast to coast. Like a five-point-star. Mancini is one of them. Del Stavio was the jeweler to the
Dons
. He would not have made the bracelet for an American child. A non-Sicilian. And Mira says America is known for counterfeits.”

It was the last straw. The innocent truth stripped her raw. Marietta broke down in tears. Alarmed Catalina reached out and touched her. “Are you well?”

“Get your fucking hands off me!” she shouted at Catalina. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

Shocked Catalina obliged. Marietta slammed the side of her fist against the door.
She had to keep it together. She had to. There was an explanation. A reasonable one. There had to be.
She wiped at her tears. Biting her lip to control her sob she managed to gain a sliver of control over her heartache, enough to speak. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I’m so sorry. I… when I…” she couldn’t find the words to explain any of her conflict.

Catalina braved another touch. She grabbed Marietta’s hand. This time Marietta held hers in return. She squeezed it. Even if they wore the same bracelet, or were both American, they weren’t sisters let alone twins. If she had a twin she would have known it. Felt it.
Wouldn’t she?
After a long scenic drive they returned to Villa Mare Blu. The women travelled the entire trip in silence while holding hands.

“Are you sure you will be okay? If you aren’t—”

“I’m good,” Marietta said. She glanced over to Catalina and squeezed her hand. She was thankful for the friendship. Surprised by it. And heartsick over what she struggled to accept as truth. “I had a bit of anxiety. I have it sometimes.”

“So does the
Donna
. Another thing you two have in common,” Catalina smiled.

Marietta shook her head, unable to stand it much longer. She flung the car door open and grabbed her bags to hurry away. She had to get to her room. Calm down. Think it through. Find out what was truth and what was coincidence. She fast walked through the front of the house and was surprised that Catalina caught up. They turned the corner and started down the hall. Marietta wasn’t sure if Catalina followed her or not. All she knew was that she had to escape.