Page 77 of Forbidden Pregnancy
Father Barzini drops his gaze to the audience, glancing from my side of the backyard pews to Michael’s side slowly. My side of the family is just as big as Michael’s. He was surprised there were so many people in my family, but just because I’m not close to the Brent family doesn’t mean they’re not plentiful.
More Italians show up to the wedding than we can allow inside. Those who can’t fit into the church linger outside for the reception so they can pay their respects and drop off gifts for Michael. I’ve been suspicious for a few weeks that his position within the family might shift significantly, but he hasn’t revealed anything new. He wants me to focus on our daughter and my plans to re-enter the workforce once our little girl is a bit older, and as long as I’m safe, I don’t want to know more than necessary about Michael’s family business.
I find it strangely… triggering. I don’t want the past to cling to me and rip away my sanity, so I have to let it go. Right now,that means putting up a wall between my life and Michael’s. This seems to work for us. I don’t need to know the details and Michael has the strength to handle his business without my support. It feels strange to have a man who I can lean on emotionally – who doesn’t need to steal my strength.
All I want is to live in peace. Michael brings me the peace I want.
Once Father Barzini has the room quiet, he speaks authoritatively. “This is no ordinary vow. This is a promise before God and before both of your families. These two have chosen to speak words from the heart, and have departed from the liturgy to share their own thoughts on God’s eternal love. Michael Corsini, you may state your vows to Myra Brent, before God and the entire world.”
Michael isn’t often nervous and when he is, I’m not often able to tell how nervous he truly feels. This time, he’s so transparent that I wonder if he’s going to throw the vows away and run out of the church. I must be just as nervous to think something so damn crazy. We’re going home to our child tonight. Of course Michael wants to go through with this.
“I fell in love with you the first day you visited our home. I knew from the second I saw you that you were too good for me in every sense of the word.”
My heart skips a beat. I didn’t know Michael felt that way from the moment he saw me.
“I regret every minute of my life I didn’t spend by your side, Myra. I promise never to leave you again,” he says. “Until death. I promise to be the best man that I can, to always fight for you, and to love you each day of my life. I love you, Myra.”
He repeats those words. “I love you. I might not always know the right words to express it, but I will always do right by you and our daughter. I promise.”
Father Barzini nods, but his lips don’t move to indicate approval or disapproval. This moment belongs to me and Michael, anyway. I don’t care what he even thinks because it makes my heart so happy to hear Michael proclaim his love for me in front of everyone. I feel so safe with a man who has proven that he will burn the whole world for me and force his world to change just so I will be accepted and happy.
I’m sure it won’t be the last time we face hardships for our relationship, but Michael has shown me exactly where he stands.
“Myra,” Father Barzini says. “I call upon you to state your wedding vows in front of the Lord, and all of us here today. Your bridesmaids may now remove your veil so that your husband can look upon your face for the first time as you exchange these powerful words.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Renzo
One week after Michael’s wedding…
Dad isn’t pleased with me for how everything went down. I thought I was doing the right thing, but the situation with Myra got completely out of control. Now, I have the privilege of a one-on-one meeting with my pissed-off father. He invites me to dinner at his favorite steakhouse –Il Macellaio – the best steakhouse in his neighborhood with discreet booths that keep private conversations just that.
I choose a light blue linen suit for dinner with dad so he doesn’t interpret a sloppy appearance as disrespect. I finally allowed my natural hair color to grow out. We used false names during our college years in Italy, and I kept my copper hair dyed jet black to maintain the distance from my true identity as Leandro Taviani’s son.
Beneath the linen jacket, I wear a white linen shirt to keep cool and my lucky golden cross, a gift from my grandmother after my First Holy Communion. Uncle Pino gave me my watch – a solid gold vintage Prada men’s watch from the early 00’s. Hetold me that he chopped it off a Greek man’s wrist, but I don’t know if he was fucking around about that.
I walk into the restaurant and recognize the hostess as a guy I went to high school with. Ian Pirrone grins when he sees me.
“Renzo! I heard you were back. What’s good, man?”
It feels good to be well-known around this city. I don’t miss the anonymity we had in Italy. My twin brother and I disguised our identities, but even if we hadn’t, we were strangers in a strange land with ‘different’ accents.
“Not much. Dinner with the old man,” I answer Ian with a smile. He’s a good guy, but not a part of our family business.
“He’s at his usual table. Yo, this job is great man, but rent has gone up in this city.”
It’s a common complaint these days. I’ve always had enough money to support myself since I was quite young, but dad always taught us to listen to the problems of our community and to use our power to help make all Italian’s stronger. Sure, we demand loyalty and kickbacks for protecting our own, but we provide the protection and support that we all need to survive any new frontier.
“I’ve heard how hard it gets.”
“If you’re hiring for anything, or your pops, reach out to me bro.”
Ian knows what type of work would come from an affiliation with my family, but he’s not a wise guy, so I can’t confirm or deny my connection to my father’s business.
“I’ll let you know if dad has any positions at the car wash.”
“Sure thing, man,” Ian says, his gaze flickering to me desperately. “Any work you got, I’ll do.”
