Chat With Nonno
Icaro was walking through the olive grove his heart aching at the thought of his wife hurting. He caught sight of his grandfather, his father’s father, walking towards him. Offering a small smile and a nod, he walked toward the older man.
He hugged him tight and kissed both his cheeks, “how are you, Nonno?”
“Good, good. Welcome home.”
“Thanks.”
“Zorah is home resting?”
“Yes.” He sighed. “She is upset from yesterday.”
“Your mother’s grandparents were influenced by the nurse.”
“Yes. She was hoping to discredit Zorah and then make her argument for a true Italian bride.”
“You found this out interrogating the other nurse?”
“Yes. Mom’s grandparents insist all of their nursing staff be either married or be completely chaste. It seems they’ve experienced issues with walking in on their nurses being inappropriate with the guards and so Nonna is extremely strict with who she hires to care for her parents. This particular nurse was apparently hopeful because she’d never had sex, she could get herself a Lucchesi husband.”
“She disrespected Zorah?”
“And then some.”
“She got what she deserved then. Zorah’s great-grandfather was my best friend. Emilio Grasso was a good man. His son moving away and changing his name to his wife’s broke his heart. Emilio felt so much pride in being my consigliere. When he passed away, his son didn’t even come home to pay respects. When they called me to ask for assistance with Zipporah’s lover, I almost denied them, but out of respect for Emilio, I sent you and your father. I wanted to see how they were living.”
“And I saw her,” he rubbed the back of his neck as they walked in the quiet of the morning. “I looked into her eyes, and I was done.”
“I feel if Emilio was alive, he’d be rejoicing to have her in his home country. He’d be demanding we throw her a celebration. He would want her revered.”
“He would have me by the balls,” Icaro admitted sadly. “I feel I keep fucking up but damn, Nonno, she is the most judgemental woman I have ever met. Her damn uncle raised her to be sanctimonious.” He gave a grunt, “she told Vodingo last night to go home and read his bible.”
“Any specific quote?”
“Husbands love your wives and do not be harsh with them.” He recited the one his cousin texted him last night with an eye roll as his grandfather laughed loudly. “Laugh it up. It is not you on bended knee begging your wife for forgiveness and understanding.”
“And did you actually get on bended knee and beg for forgiveness?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, his grandfather knowing him far too well. “Not on my knees, no.”
“Have you actually apologized for the shit from yesterday?”
“Nonno, the woman disrespected her and instead of demanding the respect she deserved, Zorah sat there taking it. I put an end to the bullshit, and she ran screaming from the room after telling mom’s grandparents to fuck off. She told us all to fuck off.”
“She told your mother’s grandparents to fuck off?”
“With panache.”
“I love her already. Those two old fools should have kicked the bucket decades ago. Zorah was right to call them on their bullshit.”
“She is pissed off at me for shooting the woman in the head.”
“You do know you could have simply taken her away and dealt with away from your sensitive wife’s eyes.”
“I was pissed off. The bitch stood there shooting her mouth off and calling my wife a whore and a bastard. A whore borne of a whore, to quote the stupid cow.”
“She deserved the bullet but perhaps you could have been more discrete.”
“In the moment I saw red.”
“And your wife who has never been exposed to even petty theft in her protected life is paying the price.”
“She has seen violence before,” his fists clenched as he recalled the stories he’d heard of her upbringing. “Giannone.”
“Your father called me. How do you want to deal with the priest?”
“First, I want all the money back he never gave to Zorah. Then I want to beat him to death with the paddle he used to spank my wife. Greasy fat bastard hiding behind his robes and cloaks as if he is heading for sainthood. I want to expose his sins for the world to see.”
“Then let’s focus our energy there. You have a rage in you which is going to need to be redirected while you suffer the blue balls all the men are talking about and laughing at you for.”
“Nice.” He shot his grandfather an annoyed glance as the man smirked at him. The man stepped down from his position only a decade ago following a diagnosis of lung cancer which weakened him. He was on the mend now and doing quite well and enjoying his retirement from being the Don of the Lucchesi family.
“Can I give you advice, Icaro? From one Lucchesi man to another?”
“Yes. I am all ears.”
“Apologize and learn to accept the bitter taste of the word sorry. Your wife isn’t weak. While she reacted poorly yesterday, your mother and father and your team are desensitized. We all agree the first time we saw such violence was shocking, all of us, grew up here. We know what happens in the Lucchesi family. We know what we’re walking into. You need to cut the girl some slack.”
“We know. We talked about its last night for some time, Mom, Dad, and me. We know we didn’t manage things well and agreed to give Zorah space today to process and then we’ll apologize and make amends. Zorah though is even angry with Mom.”
“Your mother pulled her first trigger when she was sixteen, Icaro. She has a strength because of her upbringing. Do not think because both women pray, they are cut of the same cloth. Your mother is a Lucchesi but before she was a Lucchesi, she was part of our family because her family are soldiers. She has been around such things her entire life. Her family was working in the New York circuit when she was born. They moved back here because her grandparents became ill. Your mother demanding Zorah to be tougher is wrong.”
“Mom is only worried about her getting hurt if she isn’t stronger.”
“I understand.”
“Dad was the only one to move to comfort her and then Mom gave him hell and told him she needs to be stronger.”
The older man stopped and faced Icaro and tapped his chest, “what is it telling you to do in here? Forget this,” he tapped Icaro on the side of the head. “In here, what does this tell you?”
“To hold her,” he admitted quietly. “I like her soft. I don’t want her hardened and angry. I like her gentle heart, and I fucked up.”
“Then forget all this space you think you need to give her. Go grovel on your hands and knees and let her know it’s okay for her to be who she was born to be.”
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