Page 6 of Blood and Penance
“How is she doing?”
He blows out a breath. “As to be expected. She’s weak, but she’s hanging in there. Would you like to start, or would you like a few minutes alone?”
“Give me a few minutes.”
He nods, grips my shoulder, then steps out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Incense hangs heavy in the darkened room. I assume to mask the smell of sickness. The heavy burgundy drapes are closed. The only light in the room that’s shining is from the Tiffany lamps sitting on both nightstands beside the bed. It’s clear some effort has been made to create a more homelike atmosphere in the room to make it less sterile and clinical. Except for the IV drip that’s administering pain medication through her veins, all the medical equipment has been pushed against the far wall. More than likely, Lorenzo’s doing. I can’t see my father caring one way or the other.
As I blow out a breath, I walk toward her king-size mahogany four-poster bed fit for a queen, then sit where Father Giraldi had been seated.
Unsure if she can even hear me, I call out to her, grasping her hand. Although it feels warm to the touch, it also has a clammy, unpleasant feel.
Her eyes flutter open and focus on me, then a weak smile crosses her face.
“Gianni, you came,” she says, her voice no louder than a whispered breath.
“Hi, Mama. Of course, I did. How are you feeling?”
She chuckles. “I’ve felt better. How are you? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, my son. I’ve missed you.”
“I’m doing alright. I’ve missed you too. I would have come by if I could have.”
“I know,” she says, sadness clouding her eyes.
“Are you ready to get started?”
Tears fill her eyes. “No. Not yet. There are some things I need to say to you first. I need to apologize.”
I shake my head. “There’s nothing for you to apologize for, Mama. What’s done is done.”
“No, son. I love your father, but I should have stood up to him more than I did when it came to you boys, especially you. I’ve known for a long time you didn’t want to take his place, and I didn’t fight him hard enough for you, and because of that you lost Phoenix.”
Hearing her name causes my heart to clench inside my chest.
“I’m where I’m supposed to be,” I say, pushing down the pain of hearing her name.
“But are you happy, my son?”
It’s a question I’ve asked myself over and over again since becoming a priest. Some days I’m not happy at all and wish I’m somewhere else and in another lifetime with her. While on other days, I’m in tune with who God wants me to be and what he wants me to do.
When I have those good days, it’s like I’m floating on cloud nine, like nothing can go wrong. And on the hard days, temptation takes over, and I have to do penance and ask God for forgiveness for my thoughts and my actions. Father Giraldi has given me guidance on how to curb my urges, my temptations for Phoenix, but I’ve had to come up with other ways like the cage.
“By the look in your eyes, I can see you still love her.”
“I will always love her,” I confess. “That will never change.”
I don’t deny that my feelings for Phoenix will always be there, but we aren’t meant to be together. She’s living her life and I’m living mine.
“I know.” My mother sighs. “Not helping you fight for her is my greatest failure as a mother, Gianni. I hope you can forgive me, my son.”
“I forgave you a long time ago.”
I bring my hand up to her face, and she leans into my touch. When her tears fall down her hollow cheeks, I brush them away. She blows out a breath like she’s relieved that I forgave her, but I’ve never put the blame for what happened on my mother. Of course, I wish she had fought harder for me. But I know this world, especially how women have to navigate within it. And I know my father. There’s no room for disagreement about his demands. And she’s always tried to keep the peace.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but thank you. However, I’m still pissed you didn’t give me any grandchildren to spoil.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “You have four grandchildren.”
