Page 158 of Bad Bishop
“And your mama said nothing about it?” I asked.
My mother laughed humorlessly, eyes sparkling with tears. “It was hard for her to fight him, seeing as she was dead.” There was a pause. “My mother killed herself. Slashed her own wrists in her bed after years of my father’s abuse. He hit her a lot. And when he didn’t hit her, he cheated on her. She was still stupid enough to love him, anyway. He broke her heart every single day. I was the one who found her.”
I could see where this was going. My mother had never seen a Mafia marriage maturing into something other than a complete disaster, so she didn’t think the option existed.
“I’ll get to who your father is in a second.” She plucked a tissue from her purse, dabbing her sunken eyes. “Anyway, my father made me marry Vello. I did not like him at all. Wasn’t attracted to him, either. He was twelve years older and very rude. Neither he nor my papa cared one bit about what I wanted. On the night we got married, Luca was conceived.” Her mouth pressed into a grim line. “He raped me, and when I tried to fight him, he slapped me. The first four years of his life, every single time I looked at Luca, all I saw was that night I wished to forget.”
Something cracked inside my chest and a flood of sympathy rushed forth. I grabbed her hand, squeezing it. That didn’t take away all the mistakes she made with me, but I was starting to see that in her warped, twisted logic, living a life of social deprivation was better than marrying a man like Papa.
“Achilles’s conception was the same story. There was pain and there was blood. Vello had spared me for a while after Luca.He didn’t like my body after the pregnancy, anyway. So he took a mistress.”
“He raped you every time you had a child?”
Bile slithered up my throat. Even at our worst times—and God knew we started on the wrong foot—Tiernan never took me against my will. I couldn’t fathom the thought of sharing a roof, a table, abedroomwith the beast that raped me the night of Luca’s wedding.
“No, not all of them. Enzo was…a spontaneous event. We were both drunk and merry for a change, one summer in Ischia. And believe it or not, but sometimes I think this is why Enzo ended up the way he is—so warm and loving. Nothing like his brothers, who are rough around the edges.”
“Vello cheated on you throughout your marriage?” I didn’t know at what point in the conversation I stopped thinking of him as Papa and started thinking of him as Vello, but I knew once I crossed that mental barrier, there was no going back.
Mama burst into a bitter fit of laughter, blowing her nose. “Of course. He had a string of mistresses. Soon after I birthed Luca, he had a baby with one of them, too. He still sees his son often. I never met him. Don’t want to, either. Apparently, he truly loved the mother, though.”
I never felt so much disdain for Vello. I was actually relieved he wasn’t my father.
“After Enzo, I slipped into depression. I didn’t eat or sleep. Finally, a friend signed me up to an art class at our country club. Nude model painting. It was thrilling. I loved everything about it. The smell of paint, the blank canvases, the artists, the models…” She trailed off, biting her lower lip. “The teacher.”
Mama had an affair? I wanted to throw up and fist-pump the air simultaneously. Though I had a feeling I wasn’t going to love where this was going.
“Hugo was a Swedish painter. He didn’t have a dime to his name. But he was everything I looked for in a man. Quiet, kind, loving. I knew conducting an affair could get us both killed. But, please understand, Lila, I’d never done anything selfish in my life at this point. Always lived for other people. So when Hugo and I found out we were pregnant with you five months into our affair, I wanted to up and leave. Take Luca, Achilles, Enzo, and you and save you all from the awful life in the Camorra. Of course, once your father found out, he had other plans.”
Oh, I bet he gave her hell.
“Reasoning with him was out of the question. He’d never let me take his three healthy, strong boys. They were his future, his legacy. Instead, I planned to escape. I was going to smuggle your brothers out of the country. But one of his soldiers found out. Sent word to him. One night, when I snuck out to meet Hugo at his apartment, I found him stabbed to death in his own bed.” She drew a shaky breath. “Vello didn’t even close his eyes after he killed him.”
My father was dead.
Myrealfather was good and kind and caring and artistic, and Vello killed him.
I was reeling with so many emotions, I didn’t know what to do with myself.
“Vello let me keep you, but he never took to you. It didn’t matter, because I did. I clung to you like you were my last hope in this life. A proof that once upon a time, I was happy, even if for a short time. God was good to me in that sense. He sculpted you to be the spitting image of Hugo. You look so much like him, Lila. Same fair hair. Same blue eyes. These past eighteen years, the only thing keeping me from falling apart was you. I realize now how unfair it was to you, but you were my fondest memory of my lover. Truly a gift.” She burst into tears. “You were the perfect baby. Happy and low maintenance. And when we foundout you were deaf, I almost thought it was kismet. My way to keep you close and next to me.”
“Mama, you disowned me because I chose to show the world who I really am,” I reminded her.
But my expression was soft. I couldn’t muster any rage against a woman who suffered so thoroughly.
“I was so terrified for you.” She buried her face into the crinkled tissue, coming up for air only so I could read her lips. “Tiernan Callaghan’s name is synonymous with death and chaos. I didn’t want you to end up like me and my mother. Raped, abused, cheated on. It took almost losing you in a car crash for me to tell you all that’s been weighing on my chest for the past thirty years.”
“You could’ve told me all of this earlier.”
“You weren’t ready. I kept you younger than your years on purpose. It was only during my birthday dinner that I realized you weren’t my sweet, obedient girl anymore. That you somehow bloomed into a woman in a few months, and I wasn’t even there to witness it.”
She sniffled, patting her nose with the crumpled tissue. “Does he make you happy?”
“Yes, Mama. Very.”
“Has he ever forced himself on you?”
I shook my head. “Even on our wedding night, he didn’t touch me.”
