Page 32 of The Deadly Candies

Kathy, he wasn’t the mean, nasty Matteo I saw in East Harlem. He was broken. He got into a fight with a boy to save me. And then he gave me sixty dollars! He sent me to Mama Stewart’s to wait for him. Kathy, he told me the horrible story of what Don Ricci did to Carmelo.

When Carmelo was brought home, he refused to apologize. He told his ma and pa that he’d run away again, that they couldn’t stop him. That you were his wife. That he’d never, ever give you up, Kathy. His pa… he broke Carmelo’s jaw with a hammer for saying those words and smashed some of his teeth. Then he used the hammer on his hands to keep him from writing to you and broke his leg to keep him from running. Carmelo was in the hospital for four months, unable to speak. Even now, he walks with a crutch and has to have doctors to help him heal. Matteo said they had to get him fake teeth. Matteo said he hasn’t said a word. He sits in his room all day and writes in a journal. Matteo keeps throwing them away so his mother won’t find them, but Carmelo keeps finding paper and writing.

He won’t talk to any of them. And he can’t do a lot of things on his own. Matteo said he’ll recover, but it’ll take time, and he doesn’t know what Carmelo will do next. Carmelo knows you were sent to Mississippi. Matteo said he cried all day in his room when he told him.

I’m so sorry, Kathy. I know this is hard news to hear. But I had to let you know. Carmelo has never stopped loving you. He’s still out there, thinking of you.

If you want, write a letter and send it back to me. I can give it to Matteo to pass on to him. What do you think? As for Matteo, we are kind of sweet on each other. We got a room agreement with Mama Stewart. Can you believe it? We go there and lay in bed and just talk about the future and listen to the radio. Matteo got big plans. He gonna be someone important. He wants my cherry, but I ain’t giving it to him. I don’t know. I just think I should wait. Let me know what you think. I love you.

Debbie

Kathy sank back against her chair, her vision blurred with tears. The oven’s warmth felt distant, like a memory.

“Kathy?” Big Mama’s voice floated in from the hallway. “You alright, baby?”

Kathy wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Yes, ma’am. Just… just reading Debbie’s letter.”

She stared at the words, her heart breaking and mending all at once. Her Carmelo. Her sweet Carmelo. Broken but unyielding, still fighting for her in the only way he could. She’d done the same thing. Had Ely take her into town and spent a week’s salary on more paper and journals. She wrote so many letters to him to keep sane, but could never mail a single one.

Kathy folded the letter and put it neatly inside the envelope, smiling. She had hope. She got up, got her plate, and ate, thinking of everything she would write back. She would tell him to hold on, just like she was holding on.

Because love, she realized, was stronger than any hammer.

Mama Stewart’s Boarding House, Brooklyn, New York

The room was small but cozy, its floral wallpaper faded and peeling at the edges, the afternoon sunlight streaming through the thin curtains. Debbie sat on the edge of the bed, flipping through the pages ofSepiamagazine. She wasn’t really reading—her mind was elsewhere, racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness.Today was the day.She had decided. After weeks of Matteo’s kisses, his pleading whispers, his hands roaming but never crossing the line she’d drawn, she was ready.

She was eighteen now. Her birthday had been on Sunday, but she’d had to wait until Tuesday to sneak away under the pretense of working for Mrs. Esposito. Some of the girls in her senior class had already done it. They said it hurt at first and was over quickly, but then it got better. Debbie clung to that thought, trying to steady her nerves. She wanted this to be special, something that would show Matteo she was truly his.

The door creaked open, and Debbie looked up. Matteo stood there, his arms full of flowers—purple asters and pink peonies, their petals spilling over like a waterfall of color. Debbie squealed, leaping off the bed and into his arms before he could even step inside.

“You’re here!” she cried, burying her face in the blooms. “They’re beautiful, Matteo! Just like in the movies!”

He laughed, the sound warm and rough, and dropped his satchel of gifts to catch her. “Happy birthday,miobella,” he murmured into her hair.

Debbie pulled back, still clutching the flowers, and noticed the satchel on the floor. “What’s that?”

Matteo grinned, bending to pick it up. “Open it and see.”

She set the flowers carefully on the nightstand and took the satchel from him. Inside were several boxes, neatly wrapped in gold paper and tied with satin ribbons. Debbie’s eyes widened. “Matteo, what did you do?”

“It’s your birthday,” he said simply, leaning against the now-closed doorframe, his hands in his pockets. “You deserve something special.”

Debbie’s hands trembled as she pulled out the first box. It was fromLa Boutique de Brooklyn, a store she’d only read about inEbony. She tore into the wrapping, her breath catching as she lifted the lid. Inside, nestled in tissue paper, was a dress—emerald green, silk, cut on the bias so it would cling to her curves.

“Matteo, this is too much,” she whispered, holding it up to the light. The fabric shimmered, catching more of the sun, like liquid.

“Nothing’s too much for you,” he said, his voice low with appreciation.

Debbie set the dress aside and reached for the next box. Inside were stockings with delicate seams, a lace brassiere, and panties that made her cheeks flush. There were shoes too—black pumps with a modest heel—and a small velvet turquoise box containing a sapphire and diamond bracelet with matching earrings.

“Tiffany’s?” she gasped, holding up the bracelet. “Matteo, this must’ve cost a fortune!”

He shrugged, his grin wide. “Business is good. Besides, you’re worth it, baby.”

Debbie’s heart swelled. She held the dress against her body again, twirling in front of the window to catch her reflection in the glass. “It’s perfect,” she breathed.

“Put it on,” Matteo said, his voice deeper with anticipation.

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