Page 37 of Tesoro: Mayhem Makers

Standing under the large oak tree, I tell him of how we ran into each other, of the electricity I feel when I touch her. I laugh as I share how she stood up to her coworker, defending a man she barely knew.

“She sounds lovely. Have you told her about Bellamia?”

“About that,” I paused, finding it difficult to select the right words. “Can I ask you a question, as my priest and not my Zio?”

“You can always ask me anything, Dante. You know I leave judgement for God.”

Glancing back at the house, its chipping paint and rotting wood somehow different than when I first saw it. Months ago I found the house useless and not worth the money it would cost to tear it down. Now, it was strong bones and resurrection, much like my soul.

“Do you think God grants do overs?”

“What do you mean, do overs? God only gives us one life.”

“Like in football, when there is a penalty and the referees have them repeat the play.”

“You mean second chances?”

“Yes,” I laugh, feeling stupid for not having the right terminology.

“Do you think Kate is your second chance?”

“When I came to you and asked for guidance in asking Bellamia to marry me, you said never rely on someone else for my happiness.”

“I also said the perfect partner will make you a better person.”

His words stung as much as they did the first time he said them. Bellamia wanted me to leave the family, yet she also wanted the benefits. She was the most indecisive person I knew, her desires changing by the minute. At first her erratic behavior was a turn on, but in the end, it was the subject of most of our arguments.

“Kate makes me want to do better, but still be myself.” A sharp gust of wind hit me from behind, as if a nudge from beyond. “Yes, Father, I think Kate is my second chance.”

Looking up at the oak tree, I watch as a cardinal leaps from a branch and flies away.

“Goodbye, Bellamia.” I whisper as I watch the bird disappear into a line of evergreens.

“Hey, Dante,” Zio’s voice brings me back to the conversation.

“I’m here.” Turning away from the treeline, I take several steps toward the tiny courtyard I imagine was a flourishing garden at one time. Now, it’s overgrown with dead weeds and sage brush, broken statues and empty flower pots.

“Good, Marcus, would like a word with you.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I wait for him to take the phone. When Joseph decided to groom Angelo and myself to take over, his decision was met with opposition, none more vocal than Marcus, who felt he should have been chosen. Once Joseph died, Marcus tried to have Angelo disqualified, claiming our mother wasn’t Italian. While her eyes may have been ice blue, she was as Italian as he is. Now, he takes every opportunity to try and weasel his way onto the throne. Given the chance, he’dcut the ring from Angelo’s finger with his own teeth in order to posses it.

“You must have news, Dante.”

“Angelo is awake, the doctor is with him now.” I knew better than to give Marcus any information about Kate until this blew over and Angelo’s place in the Family was secure.

“And the weather? Is it clear enough for travel?”

Glancing at the sky, “The snow stopped, but I haven't tried the roads yet.”

“Surely the city had salted the roads.”

“I’m sure they would if they could, Marcus. This is Texas, they are better equipped to handle brutal heat, not measurable snow.”

“Send one of the men to check. With your extended time there, you have created an enemy, one I’m having to deal with.”

Furrowing my brow, “What the fuck are you talking about?” I had my suspicions, however Joseph taught me long ago we have two ears and one mouth for a reason.

“Watch your tongue?—”

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