Chapter 9 Terrible News
SANCIA
I could hear the boisterous voices of Papa and his soldiers, all the way from the living room to the kitchen. Mama had ordered Isabella, Christina, and me to greet them with some bite-sized pastries when they arrived, before dinner was ready.
My parents, my Uncle Romero, and his wife, Aunt Lorena, their kids, and several of Papa's soldiers arrived in Vegas two days, just as Paolo had said they would. Isabella and I had gone with Zia Francesca and Zio Paolo to the private airport to receive them.
Mama had taken one look at me and Isabella and started to tear up instantly. When I'd asked why she had tears in her eyes, she'd told me she missed us so much and was being emotional.
Something had seemed off to me-maybe it was the way Mama's eyes flickered to Papa, or the tension in the air- as we drove back to our Vegas mansion that made me feel uneasy, but I couldn't quite put my finger on why.
Right now, all the women are in the kitchen. Zia Francesca was stirring the tortellini in brodo (chicken soup with stuffed pasta) on the low flame while she caught up with Aunt Lorena, who was busy munching on chocolate chip cookies. She'd opened the whole jar and had demolished half of the cookies all by herself.
Mama had gone upstairs to freshen up after being in the kitchen for almost five hours straight. They've been cooking up a storm in preparation for Papa's underbosses' arrival, with her and Aunt Francesca, with the help of the maids.
We've also helped with the little things, like chopping the vegetables and fruits, and mixing the dough. Finally, we were done.
I was helping Mari, Mama’s trusted maid, reduce the workload by rinsing and drying the utensils and pots used for all the cooking while she washed them. At the same time, I kept thinking about what I’ve heard from Zia Lorena and Zia Francesca.
My stomach has been in a knot since then. I wanted to talk to Isabella. But both she and Tina were tasked with setting the table with Aunt Francesca's guidance; they'd finished and were now hauling all the food to the dining room.
So there wasn’t time for me to talk to her. Besides, I don’t even know what’s going on; I didn’t hear enough to make sense of it.
It wasn’t almost dinner time, Mama will be back any minute now, that's when we'll let the men know the food is ready, and we will all dine together at the big dining table.
It was especially custom-made for this reason; it could seat 24 people, and the one back at home could seat forty.
Just as I was thinking of her, Mama came down looking beautiful in a red flowy dress, her ears and slim neck adorned with glittering diamonds. Her long blonde hair was brushed straight and shiny. Looking at Mama, you would never guess she had three children, the eldest of which is twenty-three.
“You look beautiful as always, Arianna,” Aunt Lorena said. Aunt Francesca nodded her agreement.
“Always the perfect host.”
“Thank you, Lorena, and you too, Francesca. Shall we head to the dining room? I'll let the gentlemen know dinner is ready,” Mama said, walking towards the door in her high heels.
“Sancia, leave Maria to finish cleaning up and join us, you too, Christina,” she said to Tina, who came back from changing into a dress per her mom's order. Mama twines her hands with Isabella and drags her with her.
Christina and I walked together to dinner right behind her mom and Aunt Lorena. Papa and Mama had filed into the dining room holding hands, our uncle Romero, his oldest Leonardo(Lenny), Isabella, and the rest of the men behind them.
Being the perfect host, Mama had guided everyone to their rightful seats; we, the children, waited respectfully, as is tradition, for the older people to take their seats. My Papa had pulled the chair for Mama to sit on before he sat down. So did Uncle Romero to his pregnant wife.
I smirked; Christina scoffed when her dad, Paolo, did the same for her mom, Aunt Francesca. He wouldn’t dare treat Zia Francesca badly in front of her brothers. I almost wish he would, so Papa would deal with his pompous ass.
Only when everyone was seated did we take our seats. My ass was about to touch my seat when Papa called my name. “Come over here, my darling.”
Papa's face was blank, but his eyes were soft. I smiled nervously as I stood up and walked to him, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on me. There was an empty chair beside him to his left, which I didn't notice was unoccupied until now.
That's where he pointed for me to sit. Mama was to his right, Isabella beside her. Tina and I had chosen a seat as far away from our parents' eyes as possible so we could gossip, giggle, and do whatever without censure, and Mama had left us to our vices.
But now I'm here right in Papa's eyeballs. Don't get me wrong, I love my papa, especially because he adores me in his way, despite who and what he is. But that also means I have to act like his little clueless princess.
Knowing him, I didn't move to serve myself. Papa always dished me food when we ate together. He knows all my favorites, as is evident by the food on my plate.
“Thank you, Papa,” I said, smiling widely. He patted my hand as he resumed his conversation with Uncle Romero and his men.
I tuck my hair behind my ear and concentrate on my plate, eating slowly and pretending I wasn't listening to everything being said.
For the next hour or so, the clattering of plates, screeching of silverware, clicking of glasses, low timbre of men's voices, and women giggling were the only sounds you could hear in the big dining room.
Until Papa picks up his wine glass and clicks on it with a spoon. “Can I have your attention?” he raised his deep voice, silencing everyone as they all focused on him.
“Today we've gathered here in honor and celebration of my daughter’s getting engaged soon to the Capo of the Marchetti Famiglia.”
Papa's words sent a ripple of voices rising, and the sound of my heart pounding along with it.