Page 40 of Cillian

“Sure baby, coming right up,” she declared, before I pulled her back for a kiss of appreciation.

“You're so sweet to me, Queenie.” As she turned from away from me, I gave her thick arse a slap before sending her on her way. “Sexy woman.” I sat patiently at the table watching her pretty legs and sexy curls prance around the kitchen floor.

My wife had these long-toned legs that if you've seen her in photographs, you would think she was 5’8” instead of her 5’1” stature, and these curved sexy foot arches that made watching her walk around barefoot a mindless struggle.

“I'm sorry, I didn't get home early enough to sit down and eat with you. I'm trying my best to work things around my schedule. Late nights never used to bother me, but now I'm just gonna have to figure some things out. Don't want to be spoiling your sleep every night.”

Vigorously stirring the contents of her pot, she peeked into the oven to check on her casserole, and she began filling a plate with contents of her cooking.

“I mean, I understand. It's just easy to get bored here by myself all day. With nowhere to go, I wait by the phone anxious for your phone calls. Otherwise there's nothing to do except cook.” I pressed my lips into a thin line wishing my brothers could have bought me a radio or something. Maybe if she liked books, I could surprise her with a bookcase with her favorite books or something.

“I promise to call more often, I promise.” I took her wrist in mine and pulled her into me. “I promise.” She laid a kiss on the side of my face, as she pranced back over to the stove, filling my plate with food. She laid it down in front of me, and before she could walk away, I pulled her on my lap and gave her a kiss.

“It smells good,” I snickered, taking the fork she set out for me and plunged it into what I was most curious about. It was some kind of noodle with cheese and the moment I brought it to my lips, I was definitely having an out of body experience. “Oh my god, Queenie. This is so bloody good.” I plunged my fork into another side. Something that reminded me of kale. As I let it coat my tongue, I couldn't help savoring the smoky flavor that I wasn’t expecting from a green, and when I bit into the chicken that accompanied it, I couldn't help feeling like it didn't taste reheated at all. It was just as tender and juicy as if it was fresh off the stove.

“I know I told you this before but my lord, you can really cook, darlin’. What am I eating cause I can't believe I've spent my whole life never trying another culture’s food before.” She shrugged like it was no big deal that her cooking was amazing.

“It's nothing out of the ordinary. Just some fried chicken, baked mac and cheese, collard greens and some candied yams. We eat stuff like this all the time so it makes me happy to see that you enjoy it.” I pointed to the plate with my fork.

“There's nothing like this with Irish food, but make no mistake, Irish food is just as good. It's just mmm…” I said taking another bite of the yams, pleasantly surprised that mixing the sweet with the hearty mac and cheese was a delectable combination. “This is so good, Queenie. I keep eating like this, I ain't gonna stay hard for long,” I said with a pat on my stomach.

“I promise you, wouldn't even be no racial segregation if we all sat down and had a proper go at each other's palates.” At that she laughed but I was being completely serious. Like my older brother, I should have been more curious about Black culture a whole hell of a lot sooner.

“I know you told me about some things you eat back home. But what are some of the dishes you make?” Honestly, I hadn't been back home in years and was probably one of my brothers that had had the least bond with the old country. Most of what I could recall about traditional Irish meals was what my mum cooked growing up and on occasion what my aunt and sister made.

“I know it's hard to believe, but I’ve lived in Boston nearly my whole life. I came here when I was six. So, the few things I do remember is because my mum's family ran a little farm out in the country.” She laughed, covering her mouth embarrassed when she noticed I didn’t join in.

“I'm sorry, it's just it is hard to believe. Your accent seems to be still intact and unchanged.”

“There you go making fun of my voice again. Even after you said you liked it.”

“I do baby, I do,” she said, wrapping her arms around my neck with a kiss to my cheek.

“But back to your question. Some common things are called colcannon. It's like mashed potatoes with fresh spring onions, kale and lots of milk and butter. It's kind of like a poor man's meal, but for a poor man's meal, it's an Irish staple. Another thing we have is boiled bacon and cabbage.” Her left brow cocked.

“Boiled bacon? That sounds questionable.”

“Well, it's not. It’s actually tasty. One thing about Irish food, it's either going to have one of three things. Potatoes, bacon or cabbage. We Irish love our cabbage.” She pursed her lips.

“The only time I make cabbage is fried cabbage.” I pointed my fork at her, remembering yet another Irish staple.

“Oh, that's another one. We have fried cabbage, too. Maybe it's nothing like yours but maybe one day you can make it, and I can compare and contrast.” She dusted a few light traces of crumbs off my beard, as she turned my face to hers and pressed her forehead to mine.

“I'm sorry if it seems like I'm changing the subject. But I think I'm ready to ask what is it that you do for a living?” I set down my fork, reaching for a glass of water. I wasn't sure if she was ever going to ask me that question. Most woman married to crime bosses were just content with not knowing and I hoped she might be too. But I could tell she was different, she just wanted the truth.

“I thought maybe you didn't want to know.” She released a deep sigh.

“Hours ago, I thought I didn't. But as I stayed up waiting for you, it just had me thinking. What if one night you don't walk through those doors? What if one night something goes wrong, and you don't make it back to me? I wouldn't even know why because I don't know what you do.” I held her waist tightly, hoping that I had if I held tight enough and I explained myself, she wouldn't just get up and walk away. She was such a sweet girl; a good girl and I was all wrong for her just because the family I came from.

“The problem really ain't you knowing, it's will you accept me after discovering what it is? I've made it clear that I don't have a traditional job I punch in and out from a time clock. And I don't have the pleasure of saying I’ve got degrees and diplomas, or anything like that. But I'm not sure I can handle the thought of you hating a part of me. And I don't mind keeping that part away from you because I just want you safe and cared for. You don't need the stress of worrying about me all day, because that's all you'll do once you know.” She tilted my chin to eye level, her sparkling dark stare gentle and honest.

“Cillian, you’re my husband, and I’d love it if you started trusting me more with hard stuff.”

“Listen to me now. I do trust you, I do.” I started, only to have her interrupt.

“Then you have to trust me to know everything about your world. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I'm already partly in, it's just, I'd like to understand you better. I don't like being kept in the dark.” I took a deep breath, lifting up to sit her up on the table as I adjusted in the chair in front of her.

“Okay. On the legitimate side of things, I run two nightclubs and a movie theater. In order to get around what we do, we need legitimate businesses to help us clean the money we make during dirty dealings. The dark side of it is that my family, well we’re the head family in the Boston organized crime scene, so we have a bit of our hands on everything. Gambling, fixing fights, shakedowns, smuggling, drug trafficking and some heavy gun trade. Once you get caught up with guns, you're dealing with some dangerous people. But I promise you, it's nothing me and my brothers can't handle. In Boston, we’re like royalty, and all the other families don't move an inch without our word or command. Although I'm told we got a lot of flack for cutting the Blacks in. It's not an issue now, but it'll likely be a problem later.” I took her hands in mine, placing a kiss on both at the sense of her worried expression.

---