Chapter 11: Convenient Mafia Wife: Chapter 11

New York City, New York Five Families CATALINA Our lunch with Aria De Luca, Giulia Mancini and Zia Lora is more like a war council.

Apparently Don De Luca expects a full Sicilian wedding in three months. Three!

His mother informs us that she will be his voice in the wedding plans. As her maid of honor, Carlotta insists on me being present for everything. So, I’m glad the don isn’t going to be underfoot.

If I could go without seeing him again until the day of the wedding, that would be great. My vagina disagrees, but she’s a lazy twit who has spent two and half decades dormant. She doesn’t get a vote now.

However, between my sister’s unenthusiastic response to her engagement and the groom’s lack of interest in the wedding, I can’t help worrying their marriage is a disaster in the making.

~ ~ ~

I chew on my bottom lip and watch my sister as the car eats up the miles between Long Island and Manhattan.

The last week and a half have been a whirlwind of activity.

Yesterday, Carlotta picked out her wedding gown. As much as my sister loves fashion, she reacted to picking out the dress she’s going to be married in like she was choosing a flavor of ice cream. But with less excitement.

Right now, we are on our way into the city for a consultation with the catering company. We’ll be meeting Aria De Luca and her daughter again. Not the don.

Zia Lora won’t be able to make all the trips into the city because it’s all so rushed, but she’s convinced Papa to give us a car and a driver. Even with a second soldier acting as bodyguard, it is freedom unlike anything either of us have ever known.

‘I’m so excited to try this tasting menu,’ Carlotta says with her first spark of real enthusiasm. ‘The head chef said I could tour the kitchens and watch different preparations.’

‘Does it matter how they make the food, so long as you like how it tastes?’ I ask.

My sister’s lovely face is flushed, her eyes fever bright. ‘Oh yes. I can’t wait to see how they make the chilled dessert. The chef does it in individual portions with liquid nitrogen.’

‘That sounds dangerous.’ Not to mention challenging for the number of guests expected to attend.

Even with the short notice, there are nearly two-thousand people on the guest list. At least a thousand of them, or their representatives, will definitely be there.

It is not every day a don gets married. Guests are coming from all over the country and even Italy. There will be dons, or their underbosses, from all Five Families in New York and the other Cosa Nostra territories, as well as the Camorra we count as allies.

Carlotta shrugs. ‘It’s molecular gastronomy,’ she says with reverence.

‘I could barely get you to give an opinion about the flowers.’ She’d agreed that having mom’s favorite white camelias included in the arrangements would be nice, though Carlotta hadn’t actually shown a preference for anything herself.

‘Flowers are boring.’

‘And the dress?’

‘Aria has impeccable taste. The dress she picked out is fine.’

‘I don’t think your future mother-in-law should pick out your wedding dress,’ I admonish.

‘Why not? She’s got experience being a don’s wife. She knows what’s expected. I don’t. You know what Zio Giovi says…’

‘Go with the experts and you won’t go wrong,’ we say together and then burst out laughing.

‘She may be an expert on being a don’s wife, but she is not an expert on you, Carlotta. And this is your wedding.’

‘That’s why you’re here, to be the expert on me,’ Carlotta says.

It’s disturbing that Signora De Luca and even her daughter have had more input on the wedding plans than the bride-to-be, but I don’t say anything. I can tell my little sister is overwhelmed by the prospect of becoming the don’s wife.

She doesn’t find him even remotely sexy. She told me so and I had to bite my tongue to keep back my astonishment. ‘He’s nearly twice my age and you’ve seen how cold his eyes are.’

I don’t tell her how a simple look from those dark eyes warms up my insides faster than a shot of whiskey.

‘Well, I’m glad you’re excited about the food,’ I say now.

Only I realize later that it’s not choosing the food for the wedding menu that excites my sister.

She’s happy to leave the final choices for each course up to the rest of us, but Carlotta peppers the caterer with questions about how each dish is prepared and she’s transfixed when we are taken on a tour of the kitchens.

I see cooking as a means to an end, a way to avoid my father. He wouldn’t step foot in the kitchen. However, Carlotta enjoys our time learning how to prepare our family’s signature dishes from Zia Lora. I mean, I don’t dislike cooking, but given a choice between doing it and listening to a lecture on ancient history, I’ll go for the lecture every time.

Carlotta is busy trying to guess the ingredients of a soup she’s been invited to taste by one of the sous chefs when Signora De Luca touches my arm.

I turn to face her.

‘Carlotta is very lucky to have you as her older sister. I worried she would struggle with the wedding plans without a mother to help, but you stepped in and are doing a wonderful job.’

I feel my face heat at the compliment. ‘Zia Lora would be doing more if the plans were not so rushed.’

‘When Severu makes up his mind about something, there’s no changing it,’ his sister, Giulia, says, with a look toward Carlotta that could be construed as worried.

She has the most adorable three year old son, Neri. She’s brought him with her when she could, but right now he’s at the De Luca’s taking a nap.

‘Carlotta is young.’ There is something in the don’s mother’s voice and she’s looking at my sister with an identical expression to her daughter’s. ‘Beautiful, but young.’

‘She is smart and she’s good with people. She’ll learn what she needs to,’ I say loyally, though in my heart I agree with Signora De Luca. I hate that my sister is being pressured into marrying at such a young age.

‘Let us hope that she does not lose herself in the process.’

Surprised by the older woman’s sentiments, I admit, ‘If it were my choice, she wouldn’t have been pushed into marriage at nineteen.’

‘I was eighteen when I married Enzo.’

I cannot tell from Aria De Luca’s tone if she thinks that was a good, or a bad, thing.

‘Do you wish you had been older?’ As soon as I ask the question, I wish I could take it back. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. It’s much too personal.’

‘We are becoming friends, are we not, Catalina?’

Are we? We’ve known each other less than two weeks, but I like Aria De Luca very much. And her daughter, Giulia. They are both very easy to be around and neither lords their position over others.

Huh. The don’s mother and I are becoming friends. I smile.

Aria returns my smile. ‘In answer to your question. I had many good years with Enzo. We were never in love, but we grew to love each other. We respected each other. He was good to me.’

‘That’s not actually an answer to my question.’ Which is another thing I probably shouldn’t say, but it is something I would say to a friend.

‘No, it isn’t, is it? I’m so used to being circumspect. Yes.’ She expels a breath like a sigh. ‘I wish I had been older. I spent the first few years of my marriage feeling like a fraud, terrified of doing or saying the wrong thing. I believe I would have been more confident and less afraid if I had been older when I got married.’

Giulia doesn’t look like this is news to her. Maybe that’s why she was allowed to attend university before marrying the underboss in Las Vegas.

‘I’m glad you will be there to help Carlotta navigate her life as a don’s wife,’ I say to Aria.

Aria gives a smile tinged with something else. Sadness? Concern? I’m not sure.

She says, ‘I will do my best, but I’m sure she will continue to rely on you.’

Only I am not going to be there. Even if I didn’t have these totally inappropriate cravings for my sister’s future husband, I must get away from our father.

My plans are set. I will be leaving New York after the wedding.