Page 12 of La Dolce Vita

"But again, Don Giovanni, you will do nothing to earn it," the priest remarked.

"I am here. I will try. And soon, once all debts are paid, I will cleanse my business. But only after I find my enemies and make sure no one will hurt the people I love again. That is the truth."

The priest sighed. Giovanni sensed he wanted to say or even do something about the defiant spirit Giovanni guarded. But the priest could not. No one could. That was another unspoken truth.

"For your penance pray three Hail Marys and make an Act of Contrition. For your soul there is no mercy," the priest said. "God bless you and your family, son."

Giovanni began to do as instructed in Sicilian. "My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do well, I have sinned against you, whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with the help of your grace, to sin no more against the innocent, my family. Our savior, Jesus Christ, suffered and died for us. In his name I pray."

Giovanni reached inside his blazer and pulled out an envelope so thick with money it could not be sealed. He set it on the bench seat.

"For the church," he said and tapped the envelope with his trigger finger. He then left the booth.

"Grazie, Don Giovanni," The priest said with not a hint of sincere appreciation.

And it was done.

***

There is a little village by the name ofConca dei Marininestled in the cliffs along the Amalfi coast. And a church, hundreds of years old that faced the sea. There, on a beautiful clear day, she married her prince. She could still remember how the townspeople cheered and dropped blue petals plucked from roses. She relived every sweet memory of that day when she touched her wedding ring.

Mirabella glanced down to her wedding band, encased in diamonds. She didn't wear the large solitaire unless she left the gates. But every day she wore her wedding band with pride. Each time she touched it or her gaze fell upon it, she saw his love for her, and heard the vows he spoke when he slipped it on her finger. Each time she remembered she felt stronger.

Today that memory was dulled by the ache that spread through the joints in her fingers to the nail beds, and radiated out of her palm. She clenched her fingers into a fist and sucked in a deep breath. Her gut churned as if the contents from breakfast boiled inside of her stomach walls. And her throat went dry. The worst was the perspiring. Like the hot flashes a middle-aged woman would suffer, her inner temperature would spike without warning, and she'd find herself desperate for a breeze. Often she swallowed several times, unable to quench an unnatural thirst. If she closed her eyes when these spells came down on her, she'd see flashes of the past. And the past was unforgiving. Sometimes it would be the fiery car death with Fabiana trapped behind the wheel, begging for her life. Other times it would be her running from the woods to the sea with Kei stalking her down, and his iron hand gleaming in the moonlight. And even worse she'd see a future, with Giovanni lying in his own blood, his death so real she'd wake in the middle of the night choking on her screams.

Whether in a nightmare or a waking dream, these memories, premonitions, terrors, made her want to put her hands to her ears and scream and scream and scream.

"Mama!Guardami!" Eve said.

The bubble around her consciousness popped. Mirabella blinked and looked up from her hand to her daughter. The instructor lifted Eve and brought her down again. Eve went to the barre and raised her little leg imitating the instructor. Today her daughter wore a black leotard, tights, and tutu. Her curly, naturally sandy blonde and brown tresses were smoothed into a ponytail and pinned to the crown of her head as a little ball of hair.

Mirabella smiled. It was a false smile. She hadn't had a genuine smile in over two weeks. She nodded at her daughter to continue. The ballet lessons were held in Melanzana now. As was Eve's schooling. She and her children never ventured beyond the gates.

"Little Rabbit is growing to be beautiful like her mama."

Mirabella gasped and leapt to her feet. She knocked the chair behind her over. The instructor and Eve paused. She turned. She expected to see Kei. She had heard him. His voice was real. She felt his breath against her ear. It had to be real. But there was no one else in the room.

"What's wrong, Mommy? You don't feel good again?" Eve ran over to her and hugged her legs.

"Donna? Is everything okay?" the instructor asked. Mirabella’s breath was seizing in her chest, but she forced herself to breathe through the anxiety and speak.

"Uh yes, it was... was... was a spider. It was on me. I'm fine."

"Eeeew! Kill it, Mommy, I don't like spiders! Kill it! Kill it!"

"It's gone, baby. Go back and practice. Mommy is watching. Go on."

There was a knock at the door.

Mirabella glanced over and the door opened. Catalina stuck her head in and smiled at her. She nodded to her sister-in-law to enter.

"Brava, bambina!Go on," she passed Eve over to the instructor. "One more time for Mommy before I have to go to my meeting. Okay?"

"Va bene!"Eve giggled. The instructor took her hand and Catalina stepped to Mirabella's side. They watched Eve perform ajetéfor her mother. The leap from one leg to the other sent the four-year-old higher than Mirabella had seen her daughter reach before. Mirabella blew her baby a kiss, and nodded to the young woman she'd hired fromScuola di Ballo del Teatro alla Scalaout ofMilano. Typically, a request to have a four-year-old tutored by a trained ballerina, to accomplish her tinker bell dreams, would seem ridiculous. However, when it came to Mirabella's wishes, no matter how small or unorthodox, they were never declined throughout Italy.

She glanced at her watch and realized her sons would be up from their naps soon. Mirabella eased her left hand into her pants pocket. She prayed the spasms would stop. As for the whisper in her ear, it was her mind again. And she had control over her mind.

"It's time," Catalina said.

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