Page 116 of The Killer Cupcake
The meal continued in strained conversation. Nino sat silent and pale, understanding more than any man of his intellect would with the loss of his brother, along with his mother. When dessert was cleared, Don Cosimo and his entourage left, his wife in tow, leaving the younger generation to their own devices.
Maria supervised the twins' bedtime routine while Carmelo escorted the guests out and put Nino to bed. He waited in their living room, studying the family photos she'd arranged on the mantel. Happy fictions, all of them. When she returned, her face glowed with anticipation.
"They missed their papa tonight," she said, settling beside him on the sofa. “Your son asked if you'd read to them tomorrow."
"Did he?" Carmelo's voice held no inflection.
"I'm glad Matteo's gone." The words tumbled out in a rush. "I mean, I'll miss him, but now... now maybe we can be a real family. The twins need their father, and I?—"
"You've been patient." His gaze dropped over to her, and he stared directly into her eyes. "Two years of patience. That's admirable, Maria."
She flushed, pleased by what she took as praise. "I knew you needed time. After everything... I understood."
"Did you?" he asked and moved her hair gently to tuck behind her ear so he could see her fully. "Tell me, Maria. What understanding is it you have now?"
"That you blamed yourself. For that night, we conceived our babies. For... forcing things." She reached for his knee. "But I forgave you long ago. You were drunk and upset?—"
"Interesting." He didn't pull away from her touch, but didn't return it either. “That’s very noble of you.”
A flicker of uncertainty crossed her features. "Carmelo?"
"I have a proposition." He cut her off. "Tomorrow night. Dinner at my club. Just the two of us. We'll discuss our future properly. Make some... decisions about the future."
Her face lit up like Christmas morning. "Really? Oh, Carmelo, I've hoped—I mean, yes. Yes, of course."
"Good. Wear something nice. Red, perhaps. You look beautiful in red."
She launched herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck, lips seeking his. For a moment, he remained still as marble. Then his hands came up, cupping her face, returning the kiss with passion he’d never given her.
"Carmelo," she breathed against his mouth. "Stay tonight. Please. The kids would love to wake up with you here, and I?—"
"All right. I’ll stay.”
She pulled back, shocked. "Really?"
"Why not?" His smile didn't reach his eyes. "As you said, we're a family."
She led him to the bedroom with eagerness she could barely suppress, hardly believing this sudden change. He was gentle, attentive, everything she'd dreamed of for two years. When she curled against him afterward, tears of joy on her cheeks, she whispered, "I love you. I've always loved you. I’ve done everything in my power to have you.”
"I know," he said to the darkness.
She fell asleep smiling, unaware that her husband lay awake calculating exactly how tomorrow night would unfold. In his mind, he could see Caesar's face when he revealed what he knew.
But not yet. Let her have this night, this illusion of happiness. Tomorrow would bring truth, consequences, and the settling of all accounts.
The recruitment officein Bay Ridge buzzed with nervous energy. Young men filled out papers, took physicals, swore oaths. Matteo stood among them in plain clothes, his leather jacket left in Caesar's car.
Patrick Donovan appeared at his elbow, clipboard in hand, smile too bright. "Mr. Ricci! So glad you decided to serve. Yourpaperwork's been expedited—you'll ship out to Fort Dix this evening."
"This evening?" Matteo asked.
"Special circumstances," Donovan continued smoothly. "You yourself mentioned your enthusiasm to begin training. The Army appreciates such dedication."
Matteo nodded once, then walked through the processing door without looking back. If he looked back, he could never see it through.
A knock interruptedthe rhythm of packing. Debbie paused, wearing Matteo's old button-down shirt that hung loose enough to hide her growing belly, and a pair of his pants with his belt tied around the waist. Not because she didn’t have her own pants and shirt, but because they were his. She wanted his smell on her. She needed it.
Her eyes, swollen nearly shut from crying, lifted toward the door.
