Catherinelle by Diane Portman-Ray

23

 

It might have been the longest fucking day recorded.

Holidays, what a waste of my fucking time. The spirit, the joy, the singing, everything was outlandish to me. I felt nothing. Simona Nucci was very determined to keep Roman and I there the entire day, which hadn’t happened in the last ten years. The last time this happened was before my first conviction. After that, I knew there was no place at the table for a filthy-blooded Albanian. No one said it, but there was no need to.

I was a disposable tool, after all; that was the whole reason I was thrown behind bars in the first place. Gino, Roman and I, we were young and rebellious, running jobs above our pay grade. Roman left so he laid low that year; he was too preoccupied with law school and that brunette, sexy shrew that drove him mad to this day, but Gino and I had just started to feel the taste of victory on our lips. There was no stopping after that. But we were young, and our minds were weak, more concentrated on chasing skirts, and our heads were not in the game like they were today. I was just a soldier, and he was a caporegime, and we got tangled into a trafficking job down in Coney Island. A gang of Russians from Brighton Beach needed a secure route to push their products through Manhattan, and we gave it to them. It was easy money until the cops sniffed out one of our meetings and crushed it. We made it out fine, but there was a gun left behind. Gino’s. I noticed only after we left, and I was the one to tell Umberto about it. We all knew sooner or later, they’d trace that gun back to Gino, so his father looked me dead in the eyes and told me I had a choice to make – do the duty he raised me to do, or hide like a coward. The next day, I met with a dirty cop that was able to plant my prints on the gun handle while it was locked up in evidence, and I took the fall for the one that was meant to be my Don.

Above the debt I held to his father for gathering me from the streets and not letting me die like a rat, he was my sworn brother. I gave him a Besa – a vow of loyalty – I’d take a bullet for him without blinking, but that day marked into my brain that we may be brothers but never equals.

Today was different; it didn’t feel like any other party. Maybe because Catherinelle was so close, and every time she passed by me, my chest would constrict, squeezing my lungs and cutting my breath. All this family time made me feel edgy, like I couldn’t find my place, but every time I looked at Cat, she would feel my eyes on her and look up. She made me feel needed, and that settled me down.

When dinner was ready to serve, Muse helped everyone find a place while Simona carried enough food out to feed an army, way more than the fourteen people around the table could eat. Roasted veal, a traditional Christmas course, Christmas salad, Neapolitan stewed eel, and Sicilian cheese pie with olives, were lined up on the table that Cat had decorated with candles, golden napkins and fresh Christmas tree branches. This was very different from my past Christmases: order Chinese takeout, hit the bar, get laid.

I looked the table up and down, trying to figure out where the fuck I should sit. Gino was sitting at one end of the table, the seat at the other end reserved for his mother. Muse was on his right, next to Lola and Vincenzo, followed by Ignazio and the two Nucci twins, Freddy and Marco. Roman was on the opposite side of the table, next to Simona; after him, there was an empty seat and then Freddy Sr., his wife, their daughter, Bianca, and then another seat that was saved for Cat. Right when I was ready to go and squeeze between Roman and Freddy, Catherinelle tugged my arm and made me follow her to the other end of the table.

“Go sit next to your dad,” she whispered sharply in Bianca’s ear.

Her cousin looked up, confused, then looked at me and smiled. When did I became so damn entertaining to high school girls?

“On second thought,” Bianca smiled at me sweeter than she ever had before. “I’ll go sit next to daddy. He’s spent so much time away from home lately. Here, Hugo, take my seat.”

She smiled again, and I gave back a sarcastic `thank you` while settling at Catherinelle’s side. I’d heard Simona making puffing and slapping Freddy Sr. on the shoulder.

“Nothing is more important than family, Freddy. Don’t let your daughter miss you.” We all knew she was speaking from experience. Umberto was known for living his life like an outdoor cat, coming home only when he remembered.

“Now, don’t frown at me, Simona. My daughter has expensive taste. Someone needs to work. You know, this reminds me, Gino…” He didn’t get to finish because Simona slapped him again, this time with a wooden spoon over his knuckles. “Damn woman, that hurt.”

“It’s Christmas, no shop talk. Not at my table. Gino was about to bless the food. Go on, son.”

Ah, they still do that?

Freddy’s wife gave me her hand to hold, and I felt weird again, like a piece of the puzzle that was the wrong shape, but someone forced it in anyway. I was too fucked up. I felt more in my element pulling guys’ teeth out or cutting off someone’s ears, than around a big table with people that should be friends. Roman, Hugo, Freddy, Ignazio, they were all men of the macabre, gangsters ruling the streets, but I was different. I lacked that refinement. I reeked of death.

Just when my unease was gripping my throat, making it hard to breathe, Catherinelle placed her hand over mine, delicate as a feather. She didn’t say anything, waiting for her brother to say grace, but it settled me. I was more animal than I was man. I had told her so many times, words didn’t work on me. She could talk about love until she was blue in the face; it still sounded empty to me. What was there to love about an empty carcass like me? But every time she touched me, the beast went dormant. She gave me quiet instead of chaos, bliss instead of turmoil. I never thought it was possible.

“God,” Gino started with his baritone voice. This was supposed to be a prayer, but he was talking to his God like they were equals, “bless this meal. I thank you for everything you gave us, for my mother, my family, cousins that gathered around my table. Thank you for someone as loyal as Ignazio, thank you for watching over Bianca and Catherinelle. Thank you for the beautiful woman on my right, my future wife.” He paused, probably giving his own private prayer to heavens. I was happy for my brother, but I never thought I’d see him kneeling in front of anyone, let alone a woman. “And thank you for my two sworn brothers.” Fuck! I stiffened in my chair. “I can close my eyes at night because I know they have my back, and I trust them with my life. Che Dio ci benedicta!” God bless, indeed.

An uproar started to vibrate in my chest, and the anguish came back. Cat tried to sneak a few touches on my leg – I didn’t know if she felt me tensing up or if she was just playing one of her games – but I didn’t even look in her direction. I couldn’t. Her brother was talking me up in his prayers, and under the table, I was digging a knife in his back.

Gino’s words kicked the appetite out of me, and I went through the entire dinner mechanically. Some food made its way onto my plate, and I ate some but didn’t taste anything. I felt suffocated, and I needed to get the hell out of there.

After several hours of sitting in my chair like I was made out of stone and only talking when I was asked something, the torture ended. Simona announced that she was turning in for the night, and with that, people started to say their goodbyes. It was fucking over. I could go home now and gather my fucking thoughts.

Right when I was about to mumble a goodbye and walk away, Gino tapped me on the shoulder.

“Boss?”

“Not today. I’m not the boss today.”

“I see. Something wrong, then, Gino?” I said his name with sarcasm.

“You tell me, big guy.” The fuck was that supposed to mean? “Muse seems to think something is wrong with you.”

“Muse?”

Did she see something? What the hell was this about?

“She told me to check on you. Something wrong, brother?”

Yes, brother, I’m fucking your sister, and you might not like that. Worst thing? I don’t plan on stopping because I can’t go a minute without thinking about her.

“No.”

“You barely spoke at dinner.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve offended Muse or your mother. This holiday shit doesn’t work for me. Where’s your woman anyways? I need to thank her for dinner.” It was the polite thing to do.

“She’s packing some left overs for you and Roman.”

“I’ll tell her I’m fine.” Lie. I was losing my fucking mind, and my dick was up twenty-four seven.

“Is that it?”

“Yes.”

“Mustafa, you know that if you’re in trouble, you can come to me, right?”

Not this time, brother.

“Business is good.”

“I wasn’t talking about business.”

Fuck, could this be over already?

“What else would it be?” I said vaguely and shrugged.

“I don’t know, but whatever it is, your family is behind you.”

I nodded even if this discussion made me feel even more like a cock eating son of a bitch. My family? I had no family. I had an organization, but Gino Nucci was a fair boss. He always took care of his people and was loyal to those who were loyal to him.

To make everything worse, Cat walked around the corner with a champagne glass in her hands that was halfway empty and came to us.

“Gino, can I borrow your gorilla?” She pointed at me with a pout.

“Shut it off, Catherinelle. It’s Christmas. Hugo’s off duty.” He dismissed her, but I ignored it.

“What do you need?” I asked, sharper than I intended.

“I have a few things in my closet that need to be moved, and the boxes are too heavy.”

Her brother intervened again.

“You decided to clean your closet on Christmas night?”

“I need to make some space for the Christmas present you and Muse gave me.” She shrugged and turned to me. “Gino gave me the new Burberry spring collection. The entire collection. I can’t leave them  in the boxes, they’ll wrinkle.”

“Fascinating.” The lack of interest in my voice was flagrant.

“Oh, come on, ogre, don’t be a jackass. Help me move it. I’m too short to reach the top shelf. Do that, and I’ll forgive you for manhandling me every time I refuse to do as you say.”

I frowned in her direction, but she only mirrored my grimace. She was quite an adversary.

“This is why the state doesn’t let you drink ‘till you’re twenty-one.” I grabbed the champagne glass from her hand and emptied it before putting it away. “You’re annoying as shit when you’re buzzed. Come on, show me what you need moved.”

She smiled, pleased with herself, and Gino shook his head.

“It can wait, Mustafa.”

“I’ll do anything to shut her up.”

“Just hang in there a week or two. I’m working on finding her new security detail. You’ll be free after that.”

Like hell I would. I was starting to think that I’d never be free again. Years from now, when she was her own woman, married off to some Capo, raising her kids and living her life, I’d be just a fucking shell, my spirit always trapped by her charm. Catherinelle Nucci was more permanent than the tattoos on my skin, and that was my fucking curse.