Page 18 of Once Upon A Christmas Kiss
“No, he’s not Mamma! I didn’t get involved in the Mafia even though they asked me several times to become an associate, but I didn’t want to put you through that again, Mamma,” Jacob says, glaring at me.
He takes a pull of the beer, runs his arm over his mouth, and looks stone-faced at me. He has no fucking remorse that he’s fucking with my life.
“Ahole, you’re not my father! What difference would it be? You’re working on getting into that stupid motorcycle club,” I yell, closing my eyes, rubbing my temples.
I can’t fucking believe that my brother would do this to me.
Why would Nicola even listen to him?
Oh, my God!
“Mamma, please tell your son to get Nicola over here,” I say, pushing off the sofa. I pace around the room, chewing my lower lip.
“Jacob, call Nicola and take care of this. It’s not your decision; you have no business interfering; it’s Ella’s decision,” Mamma says, furrowing her forehead, shaking her head, leaning back into her chair.
“Fuck, I don’t think that’s a great idea, but I’ll think about it. I’ll be back tomorrow,” Jacob says, shaking his head walking out of the house.
Fucker, now I have to wait for Nicola to call me or show up.
I pray that he didn’t listen to Jacob.
“Mamma, call Jacob back, and I thought that he was going to spend Christmas eve with us,” I groan, blinking my eyes to stop the tears.
I can’t fucking cry.
“I’ll call him,” Mamma says, nodding.
She grabs her cell phone, slides her finger over the screen, pursing her lips, and presses the screen. She looks at me; she shakes her head, sighing.
“Jacob, get back home because we need to talk,” Mamma leaves the voice message.
“Oh my God! He didn’t answer the call; he’s being a jerk.”
“Calm down, Ella, everything will be okay,” Mamma says, placing the cell on the table.
Of fuckingcourse, I want to cry, but I don’t want Mamma to worry. So, I close my eyes, inhaling deeply, and exhaling to control these fucking hormones.
“Mamma, please tell me about my Papà. What happened,” I ask my mother, chewing my lower lip.
“You know that your Papà was part of the Mafia; he was a Soldati with the Cappola Crime Family and was killed. It’s so odd that your Papà and Nicola’s Papà were killed on the job. I don’t believe that anyone ever looked into it, and I think that’s why Jacob is so upset with his death. Your Papà saved most of the money that he earned, allowed me to raise both of you in this humble house,” Mamma says, closing her eyes, a tear rolls down her soft cheek.
“Oh, I didn’t know that. Is that why we were able to survive with the little money that you earned from working at the restaurant,” I ask, sitting at the end of the kitchen table, leaning my arms on the table.
“Yes, Ella, the Mafia, took care of us. You’re Papà was killed by being in the wrong place at the wrong time, that’s what we were told,” Mamma says, crossing her arms.
“Mamma, I don’t understand why Nicola is listening to Jacob because I know that he loves me. He promised that he would return last night from his meeting,” I say, biting my lip.
“Ella, Jacob has been telling him to leave you for a long time, and now that Nicola is a Made Man, Jacob must have demanded that he stay away,” Mamma says, taking a drink of chocolate.
“Mamma, I need to talk to Nicola. I was going to tell him tonight. But, Mamma, I’m pregnant,” I say, pushing off the chair.
I walk over to stand in front of her crossing my arms, blinking my eyes to clear the tears; my lip trembles.
The fucking bottled-up emotions inside of me erupt; they’re totally overwhelming, choking me, breaking me.
Mamma looks at me, closes her eyes, inhales, and exhales, pursing her lips. Then she opens her worried brown eyes, shaking her head.
“I don’t know what to say, Antonella, because I told you to wait for marriage or at the very least to take care of yourself. Now we don’t know if Nicola will return, but we will manage. You and the baby will be okay; I’m here for you,” Mamma says, pushing off the chair. She walks over to me and hugs me, stroking my back.
