His: Tony (The Sabatini Family 2)

“Anytime that works for you. I’m just here in this big house by myself. I don’t have anything to do, so whenever you have the time, I’m good.” Her loneliness is recognizable.

“Tuesdays and Thursdays are my lighter days. Tomorrow is Tuesday, that work for you?”

“It would be wonderful. Thank you so much, Tony.”

“It’s nothing. I’ll see you at three.”

The next day, with Cesare’s home being so far outside of the city, I take my own car and tell Vito to keep an eye on things for me. Whenever we go to Cesare’s or spend time with my nephews both Dominic and I go alone, without men. Even though going without security was more dangerous for my nephews, I believe it best to keep our world separate from theirs.

When she answers the door, excitement has her brown eyes glowing like sherry. “I’m so glad you’re here. This house feels so big sometimes.”

I look around as I follow her into the kitchen. The place is a two-story ten thousand square feet mansion with an elevator. “It is a big house.”

She lets out a sad sigh. “And it feels like it’s the middle of nowhere. I can’t complain. This is what I told Cesare I wanted.” Tilting her head, “Not this exactly. I said I wanted a house that wasn’t in the city. When I started looking, it was for a house like yours. Cesare laughed and said, no way, too small, and we needed more land for security.”

“Talk to your husband. He only wants what will make you happy.” I urge her as I set a pot on the stove to boil.

“I thought this is what would make me happy. For me to say I've changed my mind, it feels like I'm a brat.” Lines appear on her forehead as she shakes her head.

Leaning against the counter, I wonder if I should have a talk with Cesare, since it’s clear she won’t. “There's nothing wrong with changing your mind.”

She begins unpacking the bags I carried in. “Cesare already has so much he feels he needs to fix. I don’t want this to be another thing. Please let it go. I’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s just settling in. I don’t want to sound like I’m whining. Besides, I have news. It’s a part of why I called you.”

I can’t help smiling at the way she clutches her hands in front of her with anticipation. “What’s your news?”

“I’m pregnant!” Her happiness shines from her.

The pang of envy is pushed down as I open my arms to give her a hug. She hugs me tight. “Congratulations. I’m happy for you and Cesare. You’re going to be an amazing mother. You did a great job raising your little sister, the first ones are the ones you get all the mistakes out on.”

Stepping back, she kisses me on my cheek. “Thank you, that’s what Dante said. We just found out. I wanted to wait until we got to twelve weeks, but I’m too excited. It’s a part of why I wanted to get this recipe. I know I need to start learning Italian. Cesare is on me about the baby’s first language being Italian.”

I nod, glad. “I’m happy to hear it. It’s been important for Sabatinis through the years to carry on the tradition.”

“At first, I resented it—Cesare wanting to raise the baby speaking Italian. Then I realized it was stupid, and maybe there was a little jealousy. That you have a family tradition. That you had a family. For years it’s just been my sister and me. We didn’t really have anything special to us.” Her eyes dim slightly.

“I want to learn all the things your family did. And I would so love to hear about your parents. With Cesare’s father not allowing Cesare and his brothers to know them, there’s so much it feels like I don’t know.”

Over the next few hours, I’m surprised by how easy it is to talk with Alicia and about the memories of my parents and grandparents. I leave her with the lasagna and an invitation to call me again if she wants more recipes and stories.

I’m not really surprised when she calls the next week. I am grateful in a way I hadn’t expected. This time I teach her how to make gnocchi.

It isn’t until I’m about to leave she finally says what I had seen hovering in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I will say she didn’t deserve you. And that’s all.”

I shake my head and kiss her cheek. She blinks, and her eyes glisten with tears. “Ah, no tears, please. I do not deserve them.”

“You do. Only you won’t cry them, so I have to do it for you. I’m sorry, Tony.” She hugs me tight.

Her calls keep coming over the next few weeks until it becomes a habit to visit her every Tuesday and Thursday. We cook together, practice her Italian and we manage to keep the loneliness at bay for the both of us.

But that’s during the day. At night, I still burn for Christy. For months, I wish I had just killed her so I would never know this need. Gradually, the hate dies, but the longing never does.

***

Christy

The first eight days away from Tony, every minute of every day all I wanted to do was run back to him and beg forgiveness for leaving him. I’m sure it will get easier, except as the days go by, it never does. I’m in Austin, Texas. It’s sunny and the people are nice. And I hate everything about it because it isn’t Chicago and Tony isn’t here.

I had taken a train to Indianapolis. From there, I flew to a small town in Mexico where I got the identification I knew I needed to live without Tony finding me. When the man handed me the paperwork and called me Christy Sabatini for the first time, I wondered what the hell I was doing daring to take the name I would have freely been given, if I had stayed.