Battaglia Mafia: La Famiglia Part 34

"I don't believe you," Marietta said. She pushed the letter hard on Gemma.

"Take the letter d.a.m.n it! Have I ever lied to you? Ever?" Gemma asked.

"Yes you have. By saying Capriccio was my father when it's evident you knew more! And I've met Giovanni Battaglia's wife. She's not my sister. It's not possible." Marietta said. She found it hard to breathe and speak at the same time. And then the deepening despair deadened all of her faculties. She couldn't speak, move, or do anything to defend the attack on her heart. She stood there like stone as Gemma berated her.

"Yes. She. Is." Gemma said again, slow and precisely. "You two are twins. You were separated and then kept apart by a conspiracy that traces all the way back to here. Sicily. The letter explains it. And the proof of what I'm telling you is at Villa Mare Blu. Mirabella should have it. Read the d.a.m.n letter." Once again the letter was placed in Marietta's hand. She didn't reject it this time. How could she? Gemma left her like that in the bathroom. Staring at the letter she felt a strange almost melancholy type of emotion and then an ineffable sense of sadness descended on her. Marietta walked out of the bathroom stall in a trance. She forced the letter into her purse with shaky hands.

The walk back to Catalina was the hardest of her life. With every step she processed the truth from the fiction that had been her life. Marietta was never one for restraint or discipline. She had to employ both to keep from bolting out of the restaurant doors to run down Gemma and demand a reason for the hurtful lies. Lorenzo betrayed her? Bulls.h.i.t! Mirabella Battaglia is her long lost twin? Bulls.h.i.t! Bulls.h.i.t! Bulls.h.i.t! What was Gemma's angle with all of this?

"You okay? I thought you had fell in?" Catalina asked.

"I'm fine." Marietta sat. She hoped her smile was convincing. It was hard to maintain it with bile rising in her throat. Marietta tried to steady her breathing. "On second thought I don't feel well. Do you mind if we leave? Besides Lo is supposed to call me to tell me he arrived."

"Aww... and I was just having some fun with you," Catalina said. She winked. "I'm kidding." She scooted from the table and rose. Marietta did the same. She barely saw or heard anything on their way out. Catalina stopped a few times to speak to people as if she were a celebrity. Marietta kept her hand on her purse and her eyes on the door.

Outside of the restaurant she took down deep breaths to fill her lungs with air. Still she felt like she couldn't breathe. She bit hard on her lip to keep her tears of doubt at bay.

Marietta had known Gemma since she was a baby. A family friend who always helped her endure the smothering love of her adoptive mother and physical and verbal abuse of her adoptive father. Gemma was family. When Marietta was a teen Gemma shared that she met her mother, only briefly. She gave her the baby bracelet and told her of Capriccio. Gemma had been the true constant in her life. She wouldn't lie to her. But she had to be. Because what she said made no sense.

"You're quiet," Catalina said, as they drove out of Palermo.

"Am I?" Marietta tossed back with casual ease. The truth was her body was tensed all over to read the letter inside her purse. It was a physical pain.

"You sure you okay?" Catalina asked.

"I am. I have a question. Ah, is Mir, uh, the Donna, is she adopted?" Marietta asked.

"Adopted? No. She was raised by her grandparents."

"Really?" Marietta's voice cracked with emotion. Repressed tears kept clouding her vision. She put on her sungla.s.ses to cover them. "Where is her mother, her father?"

Catalina dropped her head back and her brow furrowed as if she were thinking it over. "Her father? Hmm? I never heard her speak of him. I think Gio said he was dead. I think. But she told me her mother died when she was a baby. Her mother was a drug addict."

"What?" Marietta's fist clenched. "Dead? Drugs? You sure?"

"Yes." Catalina nodded. "She doesn't talk of them. But she has this bracelet. A really sweet baby bracelet that her mother gave her and it has her name on it."

"No. That's not true." Marietta said. "It's not!"

"Huh?" Catalina frowned. "What's not true?"

"Nothing. Sorry, my head hurts." Marietta put her forehead in her palm with her elbow resting on the door. "Tell me about this bracelet? What did she say about it?"

"She didn't say anything about it. I was the one that told her about the weirdness."

"What's weird?" Marietta asked.

"It has a stamp of Del Stavio's signature on the clasp. But it couldn't be his insignia." Catalina waved it off.

"Why is that?" Marietta mumbled with concealed restraint.

"Oh, just because. Remember what I told you about the Mafioso? How each Don has famiglia rule? Well there were five dons of Sicilia. They pretty much lorded over this island from coast to coast. Like a five-point-star. Mancini is one of them. Del Stavio was the jeweler to the Dons. He would not have made the bracelet for an American child. A non-Sicilian. And Mira says America is known for counterfeits."

It was the last straw. The innocent truth stripped her raw. Marietta broke down in tears. Alarmed Catalina reached out and touched her. "Are you well?"

"Get your f.u.c.king hands off me!" she shouted at Catalina. "Don't f.u.c.king touch me!"

Shocked Catalina obliged. Marietta slammed the side of her fist against the door. She had to keep it together. She had to. There was an explanation. A reasonable one. There had to be. She wiped at her tears. Biting her lip to control her sob she managed to gain a sliver of control over her heartache, enough to speak. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I'm so sorry. I... when I..." she couldn't find the words to explain any of her conflict.

Catalina braved another touch. She grabbed Marietta's hand. This time Marietta held hers in return. She squeezed it. Even if they wore the same bracelet, or were both American, they weren't sisters let alone twins. If she had a twin she would have known it. Felt it. Wouldn't she? After a long scenic drive they returned to Villa Mare Blu. The women travelled the entire trip in silence while holding hands.

"Are you sure you will be okay? If you aren't-"

"I'm good," Marietta said. She glanced over to Catalina and squeezed her hand. She was thankful for the friendship. Surprised by it. And heartsick over what she struggled to accept as truth. "I had a bit of anxiety. I have it sometimes."

"So does the Donna. Another thing you two have in common," Catalina smiled.

Marietta shook her head, unable to stand it much longer. She flung the car door open and grabbed her bags to hurry away. She had to get to her room. Calm down. Think it through. Find out what was truth and what was coincidence. She fast walked through the front of the house and was surprised that Catalina caught up. They turned the corner and started down the hall. Marietta wasn't sure if Catalina followed her or not. All she knew was that she had to escape.

When they pa.s.sed the entertainment room Marietta slowed her steps to look inside. Mirabella looked up. She sat on a L-shaped red leather sofa with her feet stretched out over her husband's lap. She waved and smiled. "Hey you two! Did you have fun? Come tell me about it!"

Marietta stared at her. For the first time she truly saw Mirabella. A face though several shades darker than hers mirrored her. And eyes of the same color stared back at her. Marietta's gaze swiveled over to the Don who met her stare. The cold hard look he gave her was like a tumble of ice cubes down her spine. His shirt was unb.u.t.toned at the top. He ma.s.saged his wife's feet. His violet blue eyes didn't shift or leave her. Maybe women found his unique eye color attractive. In that moment they looked like the eyes of the devil. She tried to swallow the lump that lingered in her throat. Her instinct was to attack them both with her knowledge, or flee.

Fight or run. Fight or run. Fight or run.

"Marietta? Are you okay?" Mirabella asked with serious concern.

Her emotional conflict both jagged and painful made her act. She fled.

Catalina watched Marietta storm off. "That one is strange."

"What happened?" Mira asked. "She looked like she'd been crying."

"She has!" Catalina walked in. She dropped her bags by the sofa. She looked to the television. "Who is playing?"

"Wait!" Mira dismissed the soccer game. "What is wrong with Marietta?"

"Calm down, Bella. It's not your business," Giovanni said.

"Catalina?" Mira insisted. "What's wrong with her?"

"Sick. Said her stomach hurts or something. She then started crying about it in the car. Like a baby." Catalina shrugged her shoulders.

"Go get Carmella, have her fix her something. Make sure she is okay," Mira said as if she were going to rise. Giovanni stopped her. Catalina rolled her eyes. She was not about to chase down Carmella. She was exhausted. Besides she had resisted the urge all day to keep from crying herself. "She's fine, Mira. She wanted to lie down. I'll have Carmella check on her in a minute." Catalina yawned.

Her reply settled Mira. The Argentinians scored and Giovanni cursed loudly.

Catalina plopped down on the sofa. "What's the score?"

* B *

Marietta shut the door to her room. She braced her back against the door and dragged down deep gulps of air. Her eyes brimmed with tears of frustration. Her lips clamped down on the sob that shook her entire body. Marietta closed her eyes shaking her head no.

"Marietta?"

Frightened to paralysis, her only option was to hug her knees and pray to disappear. She kept her face buried and eyes tightly squeezed shut. Her b.u.t.t hurt and the back of her thighs stung with heat and pain from her spanking. She was only four. The beating her father gave her was the meanest she could recall.

"Marietta it's me, come out please." A soft voice whispered close enough for her to know her hiding spot had been found. She lifted her eyes above her knees. The closet was her punishment. She was sometimes locked away for hours in it. But her father had forgot to lock her in this time. She escaped and hid in the toy chest in her room. For her mother to come for her so soon had to be because her father was gone or asleep from too much drinking.

"Mama?" Marietta asked.

"Yes, sweetheart." The lid to the chest lifted. "Come out. Come..." her mother reached in for her.

Marietta raised her arms and was lifted out of her safety zone. She had soiled herself. Surely if her father knew he'd punish her again. He was so angry that she knocked over his chess pieces when she b.u.mped the table while chasing her puppy. Her mother swept her into her arms and brought her to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "Chiedo scusa. Sono molto dispiaciuta. I'm so sorry I can't protect you," she wept.

Marietta clung to the only mother she'd ever known. "Why does Daddy hate me?"

"It's your mother's fault. Your real mother," Teresa Leone said. Marietta could not process the news that she had another mother who cursed her with brown skin and the rage of her father. Her face lifted from her mother's breast. "Your other mother was an evil woman. He thinks you have that evilness inside of you. Let's pray, Marietta. Pray that you don't. Pray that your father can forgive."

"I want to pray so he won't hurt me any more," she said through her tears.

Teresa kissed her brow and lifted her to her arms. They would go to her mother's room and get on their knees and pray. And maybe this time things would be better. Maybe her father would love her.

"No. No. No. No." Marietta said through tears. "She's not dead. Please G.o.d. All I ever asked you for was my mother. My mother!" she wept. "She's not dead!" Marietta, blinded by grief, raced over to the bed and yanked so hard on the sheer drape that surrounded it she ripped half of drape off the rings. She yanked on the covers on the bed, knocked a lamp off the nightstand. Turned over a chair. Like a madwoman she trashed the room until she dropped to her knees crying.

"Gemma!" Marietta ran to the front of the house. She leapt at Gemma grinning. And her G.o.dmother nearly caught her. "I've missed you so much!" Marietta said, she hugged her neck tight.

"Look at you. Ten years old?"

Marietta nodded. "My birthday was last week."

Gemma smiled. "And I have a present for you."

Before Marietta could claim it Gemma greeted Teresa and embraced the woman. Marietta waited impatiently as they addressed her father. Anyone who came to visit them had to address Octavio first. Gemma traveled in from Italy, so of course the conversation would take forever. Marietta lingered by the adults until her mother gave her a warning look to stay away. She sighed and returned to her room. The last thing she wanted was to anger her father. He'd been in a good mood for over a week because of a bonus. But his drinking could backfire on the family happiness.

Marietta picked up her favorite doll and sat on the bed. She looked around the room at her toys and dolls. Many girls her age had moved on from playing with them. Not her. She loved to play make believe. The dolls were her friends, someone she could tell her secrets to. She wished she had a sister or a friend to play with, but her adoptive mother couldn't have children and her father wouldn't allow people in the house. She wished she could run away and find her real mother. She knew her mother couldn't return because of her father. She wondered if her mother knew she was forced to live here with the mean b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Her imagination left her pondering many things.

"Knock knock!" Gemma said, after knocking she came inside. "Ciao, cara mia!"

"Gemma," Marietta grinned.

"What are you doing in here alone? Hiding from me, eh?"

"Just thinking. Tell me what you brought me for my birthday?" Marietta asked.

Gemma came over and sat next to her on the bed. Marietta's heart raced with excitement. "I've kept something for you. Something special. I think it's time you have it."

"Really? What?"

"I never really knew your birth mother, Marietta, I only met her a few times. But I can tell you she did love you," Gemma said and stroked the side of her face. "So much, Marietta. More than any little girl can be loved."

"She did?" Marietta asked.

"Si, cara, she did. And she asked that I give you something." Gemma opened her purse. She removed a black pouch. "Now, no one can ever see this. Keep it hidden. Promise me."

"I promise, Gemma."

Gemma dumped the gold bracelet into her palm. Marietta lifted it up and saw the engraving. "It's beautiful. But it's for a child."

"It comes from Sicilia. From a special jeweler."

"Really," Marietta repeated.

"See here, this is his stamp," Gemma showed her. "He only made something this special for special little ones. Like you. Do you know what Marietta means in Italian?"

"No? What does it mean?" Marietta asked.

"The bitter one," Gemma smiled.

Marietta frowned. "But bitter means bad?"

Gemma lifted her chin. "Sweetheart, bitter does not have that meaning when given to a child from G.o.d. A sweet little baby that was desperately desired carries your name. Bitter means that the young girl will grow to be courageous and determined with an iron will and spirit. It means there is a duality that lives in you, Marietta. Lives here." She pointed at her heart.

"Duality?" Marietta blinked. "What does that word mean?"

"You will grow up to be two women not one. It means that part of you will be adventurous, altruistic, and extremely sensitive to the needs of those you love."

"And the other part of me? The other woman that lives in me, what will she be?" Marietta asked.

"Life will teach you to be secretive, cautious and careful with others. You will learn after growing up here with the Leones how to protect yourself by appreciating solitude with a critical mind." Gemma tapped her head for emphasis. "That is your duality and you will persevere-bitterly. Your name shows your spirit for rebellion. Your mother believed you would be the fighter of the two."

"Two? What two?" Marietta asked.

"Did I say two?" Gemma gave her a nervous laugh. "I meant you would be the strongest of us all."

"But why would my mother give me an Italian name?" Marietta stood. "Isn't she black? That's what they all say. My mother was a black wh.o.r.e who had an affair with Octavio. Why would she give me an Italian name when they talk about her so badly?"

Gemma looked away. "Your father. You know this."

"Octavio Leone is not my father!" Marietta said. She glared at Gemma. "I can never believe he is. I dream that someone else is, all the time. He hates me. And I hate him!"

"Shhh," Gemma put her finger to her lips. "Stop it now. Of course he's your father. He's a mean b.a.s.t.a.r.d but he takes care of you and this family. He protects you, Marietta. There are men in this world far meaner than Octavio. Trust me!" Gemma said.

Marietta smiled down at the bracelet. She kissed it. Some day she'd find her mother. Some day they'd be reunited again.

Marietta paced the floor. The truth she sought all her life threatened to crush in on her from every direction she turned. She didn't believe her mother was some street junkie that died. She refused to believe that the woman who named her to be courageous, a warrior, had been nothing but a wh.o.r.e and slave to her own weakness. Mirabella wasn't her sister. And more importantly her man, the love of her life, her husband, had known all along and lied to her. Bulls.h.i.t! Another strong jolt of pain seized her heart when she thought of Lorenzo. She couldn't know. She walked over to the phone that was now on the floor. She dropped to her knees and found the dial tone. She dialed Lorenzo's pager and put in the code he gave her. A code she was only to use in case of extreme emergency.

She needed him.