Sofia, Anna, and Luisa were flower girls and looked adorable in their matching pink dresses. It wasn’t a big feast, only about one hundred guests and a celebration in the garden of Bibi’s mansion. To many people’s surprise, Dario had agreed to move into the house. His own penthouse wasn’t a good place for a family and his older brother had inherited the family mansion.
I tried to entertain Leonas, rocking him and singing his favorite song as I watched Bibi and Dario accept the congratulations of the crowd. Even Bibi’s parents seemed mollified by her second marriage. Not that those two had any business to shove their noses into Bibi’s life ever again.
Leonas squirmed in my hold, unhappy with being carried. It was early August and he was already quite mobile at eight months, pulling himself up all the time. He wanted to explore the garden on his own but with so many people around I couldn’t let him crawl over the lawn.
My eyes found Maria who was trying to calm down her crying two-months-old baby boy. Rocco was talking to Dante and my father near the bar, obviously unconcerned about his young wife’s distress. The girl was twenty and had not only been forced into a marriage with Rocco but also gotten pregnant almost immediately. It was obvious that she was overwhelmed. In the few times, I’d seen her since she’d given birth, she’d always looked close to tears.
I headed over to her with the still squirming Leonas and gave her an encouraging smile when I arrived at her side. “Hey Maria, are you all right?”
She nodded quickly. “Hello Mrs. Ca—”
“Please call me Val. No need for formalities. I’m not that much older than you.”
Rocco Jr. had quieted down in his mother’s arm, obviously fascinated by Leonas’ antics. An idea crossed my mind. “Why don’t you come over now and then so our boys can play together? Once they grow older the six months between them won’t be as obvious.”
Her face lit up. “Of course, if Rocco allows it.”
Already now I found it incredibly weird that both her husband and her son were called Rocco. This had been a common practice in the mob in the past but it just showed how obnoxious Rocco Scuderi was, and he really didn’t have the slightest reason to be.
“I can’t imagine him having anything against you meeting with the Capo’s wife and son,” I said with a smile. Fabiano headed our way. He had grown and was as tall as me. His boyish features had become harsher, vigilant and as I’d noticed before he walked as if his ribs hurt him. I’d have to have another talk to Dante about this. Making the boy strong for his future tasks was one thing, but abusing him was another.
“Do you want me to take him a bit?” he asked Maria.
She bit her lip. “You know your dad doesn’t like that.”
Fabiano’s mouth tightened but he nodded.
“How about you hold Leonas, Fabiano? Then I can cuddle with Rocco for a bit.”
Fabiano nodded and took Leonas from me. It was obvious that he’d held his little brother often in the last two months because he made sure to support my son the right way, even though Leonas was already way more mobile than Rocco.
“Can I?” I asked Maria who nodded, a look of gratefulness passing her face. I cradled her son in my arms and his eyes zeroed in on me. “Is it okay if I freshen up and grab a drink while you take care of him?”
“Of course,” I said.
Maria left quickly, not looking back. I felt pity for her.
“How are things with your initiation?”
Fabiano looked up, startled. “Good, I suppose?” Caution filled his eyes. “Am I allowed to talk to you about it?”
I let out a small laugh at his confusion. He was such a teenager. “Well, I’m the Capo’s wife.”
“Yeah…” He shrugged. “My father expects a lot from me before he wants to allow me to become a Made Man and take the tattoo.”
It was so typical of the Outfit to keep up the tattoo rumors among initiates and people who weren’t Made Men when Fiore had stopped the tradition a long time ago. The Capo in the Outfit had never taken a tattoo, only his soldiers, but even that had been small in comparison to the ones from the Famiglia and Camorra, only a tiny chrysanthemum at their neck hidden by their hairline. It was supposed to show that the man had already been marked by death and didn’t fear it because chrysanthemum were funeral flowers in our tradition. Fiore then decided that it was better not to show their association with the mob in any way, which was also why insisted in calling himself Boss, not Capo. Many people still called Dante the Boss even though he’d switched back to Capo.