Two months later…
Pa sits at the head of the table. We’re at the family home, and everyone is here.
All the men and their wives.
My father sits with my mother, then there are all my uncles with their wives to his left, and at the right of the table it curves to seat Georgiou and his wife. I look at my brothers for a moment, just to focus and think about how far they’ve all come.
Nick and Mia, Gabe and Charlotte, Salvatore and Mimi.
My brothers have been men for a very long time now, but it’s now that they look all grown up to me. We’re here, and they look happy. They look happy with their dolls, as they should be.
Christian is sitting next to me and sees me looking. It’s probably clear what I’m thinking about. He gives me a curt nod, and I do the same. We’re the only single guys at the table.
This is a rare day to get everyone together like this. The last time it happened in a similar fashion was when Pa announced the restructure. That was the meeting room. We’re in the dining room now, sharing one last meal with my parents before they leave tomorrow.
It’s been a good day, and I’m still trying to keep the mask on that I’m fine.
I’m ready now to take over. I got myself there, to that point where I can look at the big picture and know I can do it. It’s a job, and I’ll give it my all to be in charge of the family and the business.
My heart’s not here though.
It’s somewhere else. It’s stuck on the last time I saw Ava. It’s stuck at the place where I told her I loved her then let her go.
I’m stuck there like I’m in limbo, my thoughts still with the girl, the second woman in my life to have my heart, mind, body, and soul. She owns them all, and now she exists in my mind. In my memories. Like Sorcha.
I’ve stayed out of her life since that night, becoming a ghost. It was exactly like we never happened, except she’s always on my mind.
Me and her. I have that fantasy of us being those people who meet at the coffee shop, and sometimes I allow myself to think about what would have happened to them next.
She’ll still be in Florida working with one month left to go. I hope she’s happy. That’s what I hope. I hope she gets to live her dreams and be safe.
I hope she forgets me.
Pa stands up and raises his glass of wine. I focus my attention on him, just like the others.
He looks around the table at everyone. “It’s time. It’s been a great day. It’s been great having everyone here,” Pa says. It’s the most emotion I’ve ever seen him show. “Even better to be in good spirits. Angela and I fly back to Sicily in the morning. We’re going to miss you all a great deal. I know you are in good hands though. Very good hands.”
His gaze turns to me, and his smile widens.
“Thank you, Pa,” I say. “I’ll try to be half the man you are.”
“My boy, you’ll be more than the man I am. You will not be half or any part of me. You’ll just be you, and it will be more than enough. I can rest in our homeland knowing you’re all safe and well taken care of.”
I stare at him, lost for words. That’s the best thing he’s ever said about me.
He reaches out his hand to mine, and I stand, but I don’t shake his hand. I hug him, and he chuckles.
“Thank you, Pa,” I breathe. It’s strange. I feel like a boy again. Like that boy I was when I knew I would have to take charge one day.
“You are more than welcome.”
When we pull apart, he holds up his hand for everyone to see the ring my grandfather gave to him when he became boss of the family. He takes it off and holds it out to me.
“For you, Capo Familia,” he says as I take it.
I place it on my finger, and everyone claps.
Pa places a hand on my shoulder and nods his final approval.
I smile back feeling the accomplishment.
***
I stare at the display of ballerinas in the case in the room I devoted to Sorcha. They are the last to be packed away.
All the other trinkets have been boxed up and the photos placed in albums. The painting has been wrapped up too. That was the hardest thing to take down.
As I did, however, something lifted from my shoulders. The weight of guilt freed itself from me. It was as if the memory of Sorcha sealed to my heart instead of the visual reminder of the painting I wanted to see every day.
I arranged a nice area in the attic for her things. All that’s left in the room now is this case with the ballerinas.
Yesterday, when I went to see her at the cemetery, I got the strong impression that I should do this. Like she wanted me to do it. Pack her things away and keep her in my heart instead.
When I got back, I started packing up.
I stopped here because it reminded me of Ava. Not so much of that night when she came up here and was looking around. The ballerinas just reminded me of her in general.
The little ballerinas all look so delicate and pure. Unbroken and angelic. Just like her.
She’ll be back in Chicago next week. Back to her life as it was before me.
She’s been out of my life for the last three months, and I’m sure she’s… moved on. I want her to. I want her to have met someone else, and I hope whoever it is will treat her right. Treat her the way she deserves.
Footsteps sound behind me, and I turn to see Marguerite coming in.
When I came back yesterday, she saw me up here but didn’t say anything.
I think it was because she probably wanted me to do this a long time ago.
“Are you okay, Vinny?” she asks, crossing the distance between us.
“No,” I answer with the truth, and she taps my cheeks in that habitual way.
“You did a lot in here, Boss,” she muses, looking around the room.
“Yeah. It’s just these to go. But …I… I don’t know...”
“Do they remind you of someone else?” she asks, giving me a knowing look.
“Yeah…. Um… Ava. She liked them.”
“You know you don’t have to get rid of everything, but if it helps, it helps. If you’re having trouble letting it go, maybe it’s okay to keep them, since they both liked the dancers.” She nods her head.
“I don’t know, Marguerite. I feel like I need to get rid of all of it. Get them both out of my head. Out of my mind. You know, out of sight, out of mind.”
“Will it help? Will it get them out of your head?” she asks with a pensive stare.
I shake my head and draw in a breath. Focusing on her, I try to guess what she’s thinking.
She hasn’t said anything about Ava, but I know she has an opinion on what’s happened. Apart from that day months ago when she told me I needed to move on, she hasn’t given me her opinion since.
“What?” I ask because I can see a million things racing through that very wise head of hers.
“Do you really want to know?”
I dip my head, gearing myself up to hear it. “I want to know, Marguerite. What are you thinking?”
“I think you loved Ava, and you were lucky to have love twice. I think that she loved you too, and I know the real reason you aren’t with her is because you’re afraid.”
I press my lips together and rivet my gaze to hers. There’s little point in trying to tell her she’s wrong when she’s right.
“Don’t you think it’s wise for me to be afraid? It’s dangerous. My world is dangerous, Marguerite.”
“Vincent Giordano, you are the boss of this family. You stare danger in the face and laugh. It is not danger you are worried about. If it were, you’d send your boy away to live in some kind of high security fortress with metal around it. He is still here with you because you know that the best person to protect him is you. You’re not worried about danger. Your fear is to do with your heart. You’re scared to have it broken again the way it did when you found Sorcha dead.”
I hang my head down, holding it there as truth molds to my heart. My cold, dead heart, which only started beating again when I was with Ava.
Marguerite struck a nerve deep inside me. One I never knew anyone could see. She saw straight through me, saw straight through the mask I wore and showed to others.
She lifts my head and cups my face with a smile.
“You shouldn’t be afraid of heartbreak. Not in the way you are.” Her smile widens, and she looks at me with warmth emitting from her eyes.
“I can’t help it.”
“You can. It’s far better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. It’s better to love and not allow fear to rule your heart. It’s better to live your life in love and love each other than be without it. Danger is everywhere, Vincent. It’s everywhere. People can drop dead from anything. You can die from anything. Do not hide behind that excuse.” She releases me and nods.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Do what your heart tells you. Whatever that is will be the right thing to do.”
She bows her head with reverence and takes her leave.
She walks out of the room, but her words stick in my mind.
Do what my heart tells me…
My heart has been screaming at me. It’s so loud it’s deafening.
I already know what it wants me to do.
The question is, can I do it?
Can I move past the fear in my soul and do what my heart needs me to do?
I wish I could.