Page 19 of Married With Malice

By this time she was in tears. Trusting one of my father’s ghoulish manservants to take care of her was not an option. For once my father wouldn’t get his way and I braced for war.

But things took an unexpected turn when Luca heard all the commotion and decided to step in.

“We’re ALL going to the hospital right now,” he announced. Without waiting for anyone to agree, he started issuing orders.

Luca has a lot of flaws but he sure gets things done. My father didn’t even get a chance to sputter an objection. Within two minutes we were barreling through the night with Luca’s friend Monte behind the wheel. Luca sat in the passenger seat while Daisy and I comforted a sobbing Sabrina in the back.

Nobody could stop me from following Sabrina when she was wheeled into the sterile guts of the hospital. I’d left my shoes somewhere on the floor of the country club ballroom but I wasn’t about to go back and look for them. A kind nurse handed me a pair of paper thin blue socks so I wouldn’t need to walk around barefoot.

Things can move a glacial pace inside a hospital, even if you’re chasing after the staff every five minutes to demand test results. My father has the power to pull some strings and get quick answers but two hours have now passed since we arrived and he’s nowhere to be found. For all I know, he stayed behind at the reception to drink and stuff his jowls with booze and cake. Meanwhile, we sit here waiting for someone with a medical badge to check in with an update.

My mother, always prone to angst, is particularly bent out of shape. Sabrina is her baby and Sabrina has given her plenty to fret over from the day she learned to walk.

“How is that,cara?” My mother places her hand on Sabrina’s forehead right after fluffing her pillows for the sixth time in ten minutes.

“I’m okay, Mama,” Sabrina says. “You can go sit in a chair. Over there.”

The pleading expression my sister throws my way indicates she needs a break from being smothered by our mother’s attention.

“I have an idea,” I say as I pull my mother away from Sabrina’s bedside. “Mama, why don’t we go find Sabrina some more ice chips?”

“I’d love some more ice chips,” Sabrina mumbles with her hand over her eyes.

My mother sticks out her lower lip and makes a very theatrical gesture. “That Big Man Bowie person can do it.”

‘That Big Man Bowie person’ is currently stretched out between two chairs and taking a nap with his head in Daisy’s lap.

Daisy pauses in the middle of stroking his hair. “You guys don’t need to keep calling him Big Man Bowie. You can just call him Bowie. He doesn’t mind.”

Big Man Bowie snores and flinches awake. “Are we there yet?”

“No,” I tell him. “Go back to sleep.”

His crooked grin always reminds me of a large sloppy dog. He flashes it and then snuggles more deeply into Daisy’s lap.

“Mama really needs some air,” I say. “You stay here in case a doctor shows up.”

Daisy nods. “Sure.” She resumes petting her husband.

“But…” My mother flails her arms one final time as I lovingly use some muscle to push her out the door of the tiny room.

The corridor is harshly lit and empty. Around the corner there’s a single nurse fretting over a tablet screen behind a long counter. Her head turns at the sound of our footsteps. She openly sighs, expecting another interrogation from me even though she didn’t have any answers the first five times I asked.

“Can you please point to the ice machine?” I ask.

“Take a left,” she says, relaxing a little. “Then another left. You’ll see it straight ahead.”

“Thanks.” My bare arms prickle with gooseflesh. There’s probably some scientific reason why a hospital needs to be kept at refrigerator temps. If I’d known this is where I’d end up tonight I would have added a cardigan to my wedding ensemble.

Meanwhile, now that my mother has been momentarily distracted from her youngest child’s medical emergency, she has time to remember that she has a daughter she’s not too pleased with.

“Your real dress was lovely,” she says with a disapproving sniff. “And where is your husband? Have you forgotten about him?”

Husband.Wish I could forget but no, I haven’t forgotten him. I’ve just sort of mentally set him aside for now.

“Luca wasn’t needed here. Richie Amato ordered him to return to the reception and deal with the guests.”

Her head bobs with approval. “He listens to his uncle. He’s a son to Richie and he’ll be a good Don someday.”

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