Chapter 6
CARMELA
T he sound of chirping birds rouses me from sleep. For a split second, everything is normal. Then a dark, somber tide of memories pours in, leeching all the joy out of me as I remember.
The pain is getting worse not better.
I left the curtains open last night. I can see the bright blue sky beyond the window.
Pushing the covers back, I slip out of the bed and pad over to look out.
My rooms face the back of the property and a long expanse of lawn and trees.
I can see the edge of the pool and the surrounding patio from here.
One of the groundsmen is standing on the edge with a long rod and net he uses to clear out anything bigger than the pool vacuum can manage.
He comes from Australia and always refers to the pool vacuum as a barracuda.
My sister immediately adopted the term and ever since has been perfectly replicating the drawl of his accent.
I smile.
It fades under a crushing wave of guilt.
How can I smile? How is it even possible?
I’m trying to be strong for Jessica. But I don’t think I’ve ever felt this alone.
After a shower, I dress, then head out to find Jessica.
The door to my parents’ suite is ajar. The hairs on the back of my neck rise. For reasons that escape me, I know it’s not going to be one of the maids.
I pass through their bedroom, following the sounds of drawers opening and closing.
“What are you doing here?”
My heart thumps discordantly as I address our unwelcome house guest who is rifling through my mother’s dressing room.
Helena’s long red nails look like claws against the blue Joseph Duclos handbag.
“That is my mother’s bag,” I say unnecessarily. “Please put it back.”
She smiles, slips the purse back into the cloth protector, and returns it to the drawer before turning to face me. “Not anymore, darling.”
I want to slap her face as much for her careless use of my mother’s endearment for me as for her disrespect in daring to come in here. And I’m not even a violent person; at least, I never thought I was.
My mother is gone.
My father can’t walk, maybe never will, and we have no idea when he will be coming home.
Ettore, as my father’s underboss, is looking after things in his stead.
He has always been just a figure on the periphery—someone who came by on occasion.
I’ve met him at functions and events, but I don’t claim to know him well.
His sister, Helena, reminds me of a shark.
She’s been staying over since the attack because we need a responsible adult watching over us, apparently.
I don’t need to be watched over. Soon, I’ll be eighteen. If my father isn’t home by then, it will be my pleasure to kick this woman out of our house.
Her smile is utterly fake. “You’re grieving, child.”
Now I want to slap her for sure.
“But you will need to go through her things soon.” Her eyes peruse the racks with predatory intent. “Seems a shame to waste them. And really, the bags are far too old for you to carry off.”
“When I’m ready,” I say, forcing the words out with a calm I don’t feel.
She sashays past me, the scent of too much perfume filling my nose.
Familiar.
My mother’s scent, I realize, as my eyes slide to the dresser where the perfume bottle has been moved out of place.
Late mother, I correct myself.
I don’t want to be here, in the after she’s gone time.
I don’t want Ettore’s sister in my home.
Nor do I want my father to be in hospital recovering from his second surgery.
But what I want and what I can have are two wildly disparate things.
I walk over to the perfume bottle and move it back into place.
“What was the witch doing here?”
I turn around to find Jessica in the dressing room doorway. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail and her eyes are red-rimmed.
“Sizing up our mother’s things.”
Her jaw takes on a mutinous set.
With hindsight, I should have lied.
“I’m telling Papa.”
“Please don’t. He’s just undergone major surgery. Don’t stress him out. We can manage this. I told her to leave Mom’s stuff alone.”
She huffs out a breath, her sad gaze roaming over the clothes racks.
“Her late husband was like ninety or something. Now she’s penniless and stuck living with Cosmo.
No one would want to stay with that stalker longer than they must. Remember when I caught him licking your used spoon?
Gross! Helena’s kid is weird, too. I’d put bets on Cosmo being the father.
At the very least, there’s been some inbreeding in their recent family history.
Every one of them has eyes that are too close together. ”
I snort a laugh. At least some of her words have the ring of truth. I’ve stopped questioning how she knows these things.
“Tell me you think her daughter isn’t strange?
” she continues. “How many five-year-olds do you know who can stare at you without blinking for five minutes straight? I keep waiting for her head to do a three-sixty-degree turn. I swear freak genes run strong in that family. Anyway, she’s on the prowl for husband number two.
She’s probably already taken some of Mom’s things. We should search her room.”
I sigh. “I’m not going to search her room.”
She sidles up to me. “At least mini-Helena is not staying over. That’s positive, hey?”
I smile at the sarcasm in her tone and wrap my arm around her waist. “That is positive.”
“I miss her.”
An instant sting forms at the back of my eyes.
“Yeah. I miss her too... We’ll get through this. Papa has had the last of the major surgeries. He’s strong. He’ll come home to us. And while it will never be the same without Mama, it will be better than this.”