Page 108 of Urgent Vows
I take Catalina's hand and walk with her to the elevator. Before we step on, I lean down. "You do not need to pretend a grief you do not feel."
I will not have her feeling obligated to mourn the death of the man who caused her so much harm.
CATALINA
I spend most of the mass chewing over the problem of Zio Giovi. He is sitting next to Zia Lora, his arm around her shaking shoulders. She sobs quietly throughout the service.
She adored my father. Carlotta is sitting next to her and she's crying too. They both expected me to sit with them, but I am next to Severu, his mother on my other side. Exactly where I want to be.
My eyes are dry, my expression as stoic as I can make it.
It remains that way as Severu speaks about my father. His words are appropriate, but he does not lie once. He says things like, "Francesco Jilani served as consigliere for my father and myself." But without a modifier. No loyally, or well, or even to the best of his abilities. Severu mentions loyalty only once, saying that Francesco was loyal to his ideals, not the Costra Nostra's ideals, much less his don's.
My aunt and sister do not seem to notice, but I see the grim looks on the faces of the capos. They know my father betrayed their don. They are here for appearance's sake. There can be no question that my father died in an accident. No hint that he was not in good standing withla famiglia.
Not today.
Closure. That is what I feel when I throw a handful of dirt onto my father's casket at the cemetery. My sister falls to her knees and cries after tossing hers. My aunt leans heavily against my uncle.
I just feel closure. That time in my life is over. Francesco Jilani can never hurt me again. My husband made sure of it.
I take his hand and squeeze it in thanks. He does not look down at me. Public displays of affection are not at all the thing for the Don of New York. But he doesn't pull his hand away and he returns my pressure briefly.
Comforted, I manage to hold onto my emotionless mask.
~ ~ ~
I'm trying to figure out how to get Zio Giovi alone so I can talk to him, when Zia Lora grabs my arm. "You could show a little grief, Catalina. I know you aren't an emotional girl, but people are starting to talk."
Turning to face my aunt, the shifting of my body pulls my arm from her hold. "I know today is very hard for you, Zia Lora."
"Yes." Her chin wobbles but she takes in a breath and manages not to start crying. "He was my brother. I should have made the funeral arrangements."
I didn't realize she hadn't.
She doesn't need me to respond, going on to say, "Your husband shut me out. He had no right. It's shameful."
"My husband is also your don," I remind her, looking around to make sure no one overheard her disrespect.
Aldo is near but he's talking to someone on the phone, his eyes are trained on me though and he raises his brows like questioning if I'm okay. I give him a small nod to say everything is fine.
"And Francesco, was your father. Did you even pick out the flowers?" my aunt demands, like that should have been the least I did.
Fifteen years of pretense drops away in a moment.
"He was my jailer and my tormentor," I say bluntly, done completely with my family's attempt to pretend ignorance of how Francesco Jilani treated me.
He was my biological father, but he never earned the title, much less Papà. Why do I still give it to him? From now on, I won't.
Zia Lora's face pales, her expression scandalized. "You should not speak ill of the dead. Your father was a good man."
"Then I cannot speak of him at all," I tell my aunt.
I don't want to argue with her because I recognize that sheishurting and I do not want to add to that, but neither will I ever agree that my father was a good man. He was a wife and child beater. A murderer.
Zia Lora sighs. "You know I love you, Catalina."
I always thought she did. She adored my father though. She was kind to me, but never at the expense of her relationship with her brother.
