Page 25 of Second in Command
Gestation = 11 weeks
Closing her eyes, she instantly thought of Enzo. How he would never know his child, and what to do next.
She started to panic a little knowing she would be an unwed mother. Walking around with the shame of getting pregnant out of wedlock. No wife or daughter, niece or cousin within the Familyeverhad a child out of wedlock—she would be the first. She was the daughter of a high-ranking member, second in command of theMontagna Mafia family, Vincenzio would never allow this disgrace to happen or be condoned. Never.
Looking up at the doctor now, she asked him about having an abortion. Then he reminded her that she was also Catholic, and that adoption was the better option.
Ending the last chance of life for Enzo … or giving up Enzo’s child?
She rolled her eyes—she felt sick. A fear spread through to her skin. How was she going to rectify this?
* * *
Francesca stoodoutside her father’s study. Hesitating upon entering, she contemplated on how to start up the conversation.
Knock, knock, knock
She heard her father’s voice behind the door call out. “Who is it?”
“Papa? It’s me, papa, it’s Francesca. Can I come in?”
She was startled when the door cracked open wide.
“My dear, come in, come in, you know you never need to knock,” he said, waiving his hand out in front of him, ushering her inside.
He closes the door behind him and asks her to take a seat on the couch, make herself comfortable. “Now, what’s so important that you have to visit me during the day?”
Francesca fiddled with her skirt’s hem, her spirits were still low. “I have something to tell you.”
Alberto gazed down at his daughter sitting on the couch, nervous for some reason. She was always a spoiled child growing up, when she wanted a puppy, he bought her a Maltese, when she wanted a car, he bought her a Fleetwood Eldorado Convertible, when she wanted to work, he bought her a bakery, when she wanted a husband … he said yes to a trigger-happy soldier who got himself killed. He shifts in his chair, “What is it?”
Francesca now looks up from her hem and tries to solicit compassion from him. With watery eyes, she confesses, “I’m pregnant.”
Alberto stiffens up in his chair. “Enzo?”
Francesca nods her head in shame. Whiny, she cries, “All would be okay if he hadn’t gone and got himself killed! I would have been Mrs. Andonetto by now!”
Alberto watches his beautiful daughter cry into one of the couch pillows. “Who else knows?”
Francesca doesn’t bother looking up, and continues to cry, “I dunno…”
Alberto stands up from his seated position, “Francesca who the hell else knows!”
She now looks up from her grief, “I dunno…”
Alberto now walks around his desk and stands over her seated position on the couch. “Tell me the truth, who else besides the doctor knows of your condition? Did you confide in anyone else? Did you tell one of your girlfriends?”
Francesca stiffens up now, and wipes the tears away from her eyes. “No, papa … no one else knows.”
Alberto claps his hands. The loud clap jolts Francesca on the couch. “Good! You will still get married—all will be well.”
Francesca closes her mouth, “Married? Papa, I want to give the baby up for adoption. I never wanted to marry anyone else but Enzo!”
Alberto pretends he doesn’t hear her pleading, and walks away from her to stand by the window. Down below, soldiers are gathering for their smoke break. Four tall, healthy young men muster together to talk about the day. He eyes the first, and immediately scratches him off the list—too dull. Then eyes the second, he came from a good Italian family—a jokester, too unpredictable. Then the third and watches him pick his nose and wipe the mess on his pants—definitely,nothim. Then finally, lays eyes on the final contender, Anthony Romano.Ah, yes.The Romano’s were good soldiers, all of them, dating back from their great-grandfather who immigrated from Sicily to America in 1910.Yes—yes, he will do.“You will marry Anthony Romano.”
Francesca’s tears came to a complete halt. She sat up straight, “What? No, never papa, never!”
Alberto watches Anthony pat Gabriele Caldarelli, one of the other soldiers on the back, then crush his cigarette under his shoe on the pavement. The four soldiers all glance up towards a Cadillac entering his driveway. It was theCapo—what blasted timing! “Go to your room Francesca, wait for me there.”
