Page 69 of The Killer Cupcake
"Hello?"
"Debs?" Matteo said.
"Hey? How are things going?" she asked.
He could hear Junior crying in the background. "What's wrong with my son?"
"He wants José's food instead of his own. Stubborn like his father," she chuckled.
“Oh? He misses me,” Matteo relaxed.
“Yes, he cries when he misses you, when he’s hungry, when he’s wet, or just when he feels like it, Matteo. I told you it’s what kids do. So stop stressing,” Debbie sighed.
“You are right. I am always worried,” he confessed.
“How’s Kathy? Is she there? I want you to tell her to call,” she said.
"Debs, things aren't good," Matteo cut in.
"What?" Debbie asked.
"Somehow, Boanno found out about Maria and the babies. Can't get the whole story out of Carmelo, but that aunt you told me about? Janey? I think she knows. Which means?—"
"Kathy." Debbie's voice went faint. "You promised this wouldn't happen. You swore we'd get to Vegas, that Carmelo would explain everything before—Matteo, please God tell me she doesn't know!"
"What the fuck could I do? I don't know how Carmine found out! I did everything?—"
"You made me lie to her!" Debbie's voice cracked. "She'll never forgive me. Never! I should have told her!"
"I'm sorry. Christ, I'm so sorry. But Carmelo's falling apart. If he doesn't get in that ring, he's dead. These fuckers have seriousmoney on him. We don't deliver; they hand us over to the Klan. He has to fight. Then I swear I'll fix this."
"Fix it? How? Why are you calling me? I can't—" Debbie was crying now.
"I'm gonna find Kathy. Try to get her to talk to you. Please, Debs. She can hate him, punish him, whatever. But she has to forgive him long enough for me to get him out of Tennessee."
"She'll never forgive any of us." Debbie's voice was hollow. "I told you when they made him marry that girl. You said it was like me and José—all for show. Then the babies came, and you said they were an accident, that he didn't remember. I knew you were lying. I knew, but I was too scared to tell her. Now I’ve lost my cousin forever. I told you this day would come."
"Debs, please?—"
The line went dead.
CHAPTER 28
QUEBEC, CANADA - 1978
Present.After thirty years, Kathy's body knew Carmelo's absence before her mind caught up. The sheets beside her had surrendered their warmth.
"Melo?" She sat up, pressed her palms hard against her eyes. "What is it now?"
The real problem wasn't what drove him from their bed—it was that they'd never learned the art of true forgiveness. They only knew how to bind themselves together with beautiful lies, pretending at healing while their old wounds festered. She remembered that first betrayal of trust, how she'd faked forgiveness to get him through the Memphis fight, only to gut him afterward with the truth: they were done. That innocence they'd shared in their love was ash, just like her heart.
Three decades later, the dance continued. Still pretending, still bleeding, still blaming. Even sex had become just another performance, another way to avoid looking at what they'd become.
She slipped from the bed, removed her nightie, and found his linen shirt, and pulled it on over her nakedness. Knowing he preferred to see her wearing it. She buttoned it, removed the scarf from her hair as she moved through the villa's darkness.Strange how this Quebec sanctuary mimicked their old Italian dreams, echoing every safe house he'd ever built for them. Different addresses, same gilded cage.
The house listened to her breathing. She aimed for the stairs—he'd be at the poolhouse, drowning in vino and regret. But then: a sliver of light bleeding from beneath a door she'd never noticed.
These upper rooms had held no interest before tonight. Now something pulled her forward. Jazz leaked through the wood—Coltrane, maybe, mournful and raw. Better than Springsteen. She pressed against the door, first her ear, then her whole body, as if it were Carmelo himself—all that beautiful defiance keeping her.
