Page 27 of Forbidden Pregnancy
Forbidden fruit. It feels fucked up to even think of Myra as something dark, forbidden and unwanted. I always wanted her. I found her curves both soft and alluring, deeply feminine in the way she walked and leaned over the table to teach my sister. I’m attracted to her thick, long hair. Her lips and warm brown eyes are some of her most attractive features.
The only reason she’s forbidden is foolish, backwards thinking. But previously, it was easy to stay away from black women. On the football team, the best way to make enemies outof your fellow players was messing around with the black women on campus. You didn’t cross those lines unless you wanted your ass beat.
Myra was my first opportunity to lay my hands on the type of woman that always got my dick hard and my heart racing. I pounced on her the first chance I got and to this day, I’ve never been able to get her out of my head.
“I didn’t just touch her,” I say to Luigi in a low voice to ensure our conversation remains private. “She might be pregnant.”
Luigi’s next question shows that he understands my father.
“How many people know about her?”
“Me. Cosima.”
“I see.”
I don’t know what he sees. Luigi touches his beard and loses himself in thought for a few seconds before he looks me dead in the eyes and gives me his advice.
“Get her out of Buffalo and make sure nobody finds out about her until the baby comes. My advice.”
“Peter doesn’t know.”
“Keep it that way.”
“How can I leave for almost a year without anyone finding out?” I ask him.
“Can you afford for Pino Corsini to find out you knocked up a black woman that you aren’t even married to?”
“Would it be better if I married her?”
“No,” Luigi responds, shaking his head. “He’ll kill her if you marry her and we both know it.”
I kept her away from my family for good reason.
“So that’s it? I disappear from Buffalo with barely a word and expect my father to just go along with it?”
“If you care about this woman at all, you’ll get her out of here. I’ll lend you some money and put you in touch with someone who can get you a place to live.”
“She won’t agree to leave the city.”
“Don’t give her a choice,” Luigi says sternly. “She’s a black woman carrying your father’s first grandchild. Her life is in peril.”
Chapter Eleven
Renzo Taviani
Present
Uncle Pino: Meeting 1745. Job offer. Down payment $4,500 with monthly stipend.
Iarrive at Uncle Pino’s office downtown fifteen minutes early, leaving my brother Gino to get up to whatever the fuck he does during the day. Nothing, I’m guessing.
Ever since we got back to Buffalo, the desire to cut him up and throw him into Old Harbor grows exponentially. I thought owning a home and running a business together would change our constant need to compete with each other into an opportunity for us to work together, but I’m just dragging Gino around forcing him to give a fuck.
If this meeting with Uncle Pino goes well, maybe I can inspire him to help me out and get on his feet.
Uncle Pino messagedmeand not my twin brother, which brings me a sense of pride. I learned our family traditionsin Italy and why they’re so important to maintain as America transforms around us into a vicious hellhole. Throughout history, Italians have avoided brutal fascism and endless efforts by other peoples to beat us into physical or cultural submission.
Yet, we endure. The Taviani bloodline traces all the way back to the Roman Empire. Our blood is both ancient and strong. Our blood should be kept pure. My brother might have manipulated my father’s desire for a grandchild into submission over his deviation from our family values, but I notice thedegradationhe allows into his life by having a child who doesn’t share our heritage entirely.
