Page 76 of The Consequence of You
Before I can offer another apology, the kitchen door swings open again. This time it is Luca.
“Let’s go.”
One of the family cars is idling outside, and as we approach, I realise Papa is in the driver’s seat. Luca holds the rear door open for me before he walks around the other side and gets into the passenger seat.
The two of them talk between themselves as I gaze out of the window at the passing countryside. Ten minutes into the journey, I realise where we’re headed. My fatherpulls into the cemetery and parks by the gate. I’m so used to coming here with Rossi, it didn’t occur to me that Papa and Luca would want us to come together.
Luca opens the boot of the car and retrieves a beautiful bouquet of white lilies. Papa stops and lights a cigarette.
“You two go ahead. I need a minute.”
Luca and I walk over to her grave in silence. He stoops down, and I watch as he opens the bouquet and arranges the flowers in the vase built into the gravestone. He takes a small bottle of water from his pocket and pours it in.
As he stands, he pushes his hair out of his eyes.
“Four years. Feels like yesterday, doesn’t it?” I realise with a pang of regret that this is the first time he’s been in this country on the anniversary of Mama’s death. Before I can say anything, he continues. “Do you remember that game we used to play? Where we’d dress up in Mama and Papa’s clothes and do impressions of our teachers? She’d be in fits of laughter. Fuck, I miss her laugh.” He chokes back a sob, and I can barely stand it.
“Luca…I…” The apology I’ve owed him for four long years sticks in my throat. The night she died, I told him over and over how sorry I was, but that was the last time I apologised. And he never demanded one from me again.
I don’t even know where to start, so I just mumble, “I remember. She’d say she was going to give us a score out of ten, but it was always ten.” He laughs, and for a few seconds, I’m back there, our beautiful mama watching us, the years falling away.
We spend the next few minutes talking about her, and it feels good. But when the conversation stops, the shame returns. How can he bear to be around the person who killed his mother? How can he bear to talk to me at all?
I turn to walk back to the car and give Luca some privacy, but I run straight into Papa.
“We need to talk, mia cara.”
My father doesn’t look angry, but his tone is solemn, and I wonder if he saw Asher dropping me off last night. I had already decided I need to explain to him about what’s been going on the last few months. I’d not lied about it, but lying by omission is just as bad.
“Papa. I need to tell you something. You asked me if I was friends with Asher Pennington. We have been seeing each other. I should have been more honest about it when you asked me a few weeks ago, but I was denying it even to myself. I just wanted to let you know I’ve ended it with him. I know in the next few years I will be expected to marry. I understand the expectations on me and our family, and I have already let you down enough. I promise I won’t let you down again.”
“Let me down? You’ve never let me down, sweet Calliope.”
“But isn’t that what you wanted to talk to me about? Me seeing Asher?”
My father shakes his head.
“No. I wanted to tell you, my beautiful daughter, I could not be prouder of you and the young lady you have become.”
“You’re not disappointed that I snuck around again, just like with Nico?”
“I wish you felt we had the type of relationship where you could share these things with me. Your mother and I had always hoped for that.”
“But, but… I will have an arranged marriage. Surely you don’t want me seeing other men?”
“Who said you’d have an arranged marriage, mia cara?”
“It’s the tradition. You and Mama had one, so did all our aunts and uncles, and our grandparents before them.”
“Yes, it was the tradition, but you’ve seen how we tried to create a more modern life for you and Luca. I’m working hard to legalise our businesses, to move away from the traditions of our families.” I shake my head in confusion.
“But you and Mama, you had the perfect marriage. Yours was arranged. Why would you want something different for Luca and me?”
My father walks over to Mama’s gravestone and places his hand on the cool marble. He smiles wistfully.
“We did have the perfect marriage. It would not have been possible for me to love her more. But we were extremely lucky. We fell in love almost the moment we met. It had nothing to do with the arrangement; maybe it was serendipity or fate, or just the stars aligning at the right time, but essentially, we were just two teenagers in love, and we created a wonderful family together. Your mother and I believed inlove, not arranged marriage.
That is what we want for you and Luca, wherever you find it.”
