Page 92 of Bitter Poetry
I need to stay focused. We’re closing in. Leon’s right, better if Ettore thinks I’ve resigned myself to my position. My agreement to marry Helena was the right one. While Ettore will still be watching me, it won’t be as closely as before. My continuing agreeableness will, over time, further relax his guard.
We hope.
Am I unaffected? Hell no. The whole time I was talking to him, watching him paw my woman, all I could think about was pummeling the shit out of him.
My hands grip the steering wheel so tight it’s a wonder I don’t rip it off as I drive across the city to see Cedro.
And that will be another minefield.
It was a hunch this morning. A ball I played into Ettore’s court. Testing the waters for how much he trusts me. Perhaps he was feeling magnanimous now he’s about to dump his sister on me.
At least he’s not under any delusions as to why I’m marrying her. Before Carmela interrupted us, I made it clear I saw this as a favorable political match, one where I would take good care of his sister and her child with a mind to stronger ties between us.
It was the truth… in a manner, and that probably helped me carry it off.
My rumination is curtailed when I pull up outside the brownstone that appears far too ordinary for a man once so extraordinary. I guess even our enemies don’t see him as a threat or target anymore. He's just an old man in a wheelchair. From what Christian tells me, other than Carmela, he gets very few visits from anybody in the family. Ettore himself hasn’t visited him in months. Cedro has just faded away.
I don’t know why I’m visiting him today or what I’m hoping to glean from it beyond a test of Ettore’s trust. I suppose I should tell Cedro about Helena, and I’m curious about his reaction.
Nina greets me with a smile in the doorway. “Mr. Barone. Such a pleasant surprise. Come in. Come in! He’s in the drawing room upstairs. Let me take your coat and show you up.”
“Thank you.” I shrug out of my coat and hand it over.
The house is nice inside. The hallway has a black and white tiled floor with off-white walls and black internal doors, presenting a tasteful, classically modern decor.
“You still take your coffee black?” she asks as she hangs my coat up.
“I do.” She escorts me up the stairs. “Is Jessica home?”
“No. She has classes today. She seems to be enjoying school.”
That’s a relief. Jesscia was always free with her opinions, and I have every reason to believe she would give me shit.
“Can you believe she is already planning for college.”
“No, I really can’t.” Carmela should have been going to college. That she didn’t is just another bitter blow.
“It will do Mr. Accardi good to see you,” Nina continues. “He doesn’t get many visitors anymore…”
She trails off almost like she’s said too much—she probably has—and opens a door to show me into the first-floor drawing room.
I thought seeing Carmela was a shock. Seeing Cedro is a bigger one. He’s aged. Dramatically. Lost weight. The last time I spoke to him alone he was still in the convalescent home. The last time I saw him in person was at the wedding.
“Dante, it’s been a while. You look different.”
I smile. “I could say the same thing about you.”
“True, true…” He indicates the seat opposite him, and I sit down, undoing the button of my suit jacket.
“How is the life of a capo treating you?” he asks.
“Good. It was a little bumpy at the start. But” —I shrug— “Better now. Much of which should be credited to Leon’s return.”
“I heard he was working for you,” he says. “How is he? How’s his mother, younger brother and sister?”
I don’t correct his assumption that Leon is working for me. “His mother’s good. Mine is staying with her. Nathan and Gia are doing well, too. Enjoying the climate and lifestyle.”
His smile is filled with genuine warmth. Maybe he should have joined them there… “Yes,” he says. His smile fades and his eyes turn distant. “I expect they are.”
