Page 40 of Forbidden Surrogate

“Not even my father trusts Maury,” I respond encouragingly.

“He wants Carmine’s money, he wants revenge for the way Carmine forced him to go along with a truce he never wanted a part in. Worst of all, he’s angry about Mallory.”

Mallory Corsini disappeared years ago after her father attempted to marry her off to a man twice her age when she was eighteen. She was Carmine’s first daughter with Nora after their marriage and her disappearance shook the Pittsburgh family. My father was always surprised that we weren’t somehow blamed for her disappearance, even if Uncle Pino would have dragged her back to Carmine himself had she somehow made it to our neck of the woods.

“No one has heard from Mallory in years,” Mikey says. “For all we know, she could be dead.”

“She’s not dead. That’s where the boys are — bringing her back. I don’t know if they want to follow through with Maury’s wishes or somehow use her against him.”

Viviana’s face slackens momentarily. I swear I can see her emotions for that split second of vulnerability. Loss and grief have followed her throughout her entire life. She spent her entire life between Pittsburgh and Buffalo, trying to hold her pieces of the family together.

Anyone with sense knows that a threat to the truce puts us all at risk. The old men have nothing to lose and frankly, neither do we.

“What do you think of them?” Michael asks. “Do you trust them to follow in their father’s footsteps or do we stand a chance at convincing them that trouble with our family means war?”

Viviana’s face visibly displays her worry, but not much else. I wouldn’t put it past her to conceal more troubling emotions like the deeper fears that might come with a mafia war.

“I think they’re young men. Unpredictable. Violent. Persuaded by vices.”

Peter chuckles. “We’re older than they are. More experienced. If they’re successful at bringing back their sister, then I’ll worry about my cousins.”

“Why do you say that?” I ask him.

Even Mikey chuckles. “Because you don’t know Mallory Corsini.”

As long as their disappearance doesn’t result in another Buffalo nightclub bombing while we’re away, I’ll trust Viviana’s word and keep this information about the Corsini family rift for later. Carmine left a mess behind — but how much of it will be ours to clean up?

Pittsburgh, 5 weeks after leaving Delphine

Delphine doesn’t return my emails. I wish she wouldrespond. I feel desperate to hear her voice, or at least read her words.

I told myself there would be no feelings between us, but knowing that Delphine is pregnant, trapped with my sister Angela, and I haven’t seen her or held her in weeks bothers me deeply. I try to rationalize my emotions, but nothing works to suppress them or wish them away.

Even if some foolish part of me develops an emotional connection to Delphine, I’ll have to break it after she has the baby.

Late after the meeting with Dario and Vito, I call my father to give him a thorough report and to answer all his detailed questions, sometimes asking about parts of the conversation or situation that I would have never deemed important. What does it matter if Vito Corsini smokes? How should I know if Dario’s voice “changed significantly” as I forced him to give me more information about the Gravina who bombed the nightclub.

We have enough answers to know who planted the bomb, but not why and we don’t know if there might be more bombs in the future. The whole situation is a damn mess.

I hoped my father would call us back home, but he’s not finished with us yet. Michael and Peter’s idiotic first cousins returned from Boston empty-handed, but it seems they arrived empty-brained as well. They can’t tell us anything about Maury Gravina, what he wants, or more about the bombing.

All we know is that three members of the Pittsburgh mob family followed Maury’s orders to plant a bomb at 9th Circle in Buffalo. Like us, the younger men in the family were taught not to question the motives of their superiors. Carmine’s death clearly affected both Dario and Vito, their numb absence of emotions particularly apparent during our meeting.

They didn’t just lose their father, and I reported at least one piece of news to my father that I knew he would want to hear.

The member of the Corsini mob family who planted the bomb died in Boston — shot by a redneck biker while staking out Mallory’s house. Her brothers still haven't convinced Mallory to return to Pittsburgh, and when I inquire about the outlaw bikers involved in thwarting their efforts to bring their sister home, both Dario and Vito reassure me that the bikers have nothingto do with Mallory except circumstances — so they have no involvement in the bombing.

When I press Dario and Vito about Maury’spossiblemotives, I truly question their intelligence. The best they can tell me is that the “Doukas branch” of their family will have more answers for them, and their half-brothers are slated to return in three months.

I feel for the confusion that accompanies young men at this age. They crave some intense purpose greater than the daily, basic routines of life that seem unimportant. Only time will give a man some sense of purpose and stability in his life.

Dario and Vito are little help with speculating on Maury’s motives, but I sense they don’t trust him, an instinct my father agrees with.

“Carmine had a sense of honor. Maury doesn’t,” is all I can get from Don Taviani on the subject.

Their explanation for why they want their sister back seems plausible, but my father doesn’t trust anybody in Pittsburgh and neither do I. Except Aunt Viviana. She might have chosen to live on this side of the truce line, but you would be foolish to think she forgives Carmine for what he did to her sister. Her loyalty is to herself — which is a wise way for a woman to live.

Dad isn’t satisfied with what we learned from the meeting enough to call us back home. So we’re stuck in Pittsburgh while I miss more of Delphine’s physical and emotional changes. By the time I return, her hatred for me could be completely solidified, especially since I left Angela as her primary companion.

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