12. Brando
12
brANDO
I ’ve never been in a room with my brothers where there is so much silence. But that’s what happens when Mia and I walk into the dining room, where everyone is seated around the table, about to have dinner. Their conversation ends abruptly as they look up, no shortage of shock on their face. It’s not often that I bring a girl home, and I suddenly realize that there will be questions. Questions that I’m possibly not ready to answer.
The only one who is not surprised is Allegra, who sits quietly smiling, her eyes telling me she’s over the moon to see another female filling this house. I want to add that this is just short term, but she’s so happy, I don’t have the heart to burst her bubble of joy.
Allegra stands, her huge stomach protruding as she hugs Mia, who stands dumbfounded that my sister-in-law has welcomed her into her house so easily.
“Welcome, Mia,” Scar says, shooting my younger brothers a warning look as they rib each other.
Whether we’re four, or five, or six, Juliana always has the table set for ten people, so there’s no shortage of space. She takes a seat next to Allegra at the woman’s insistence, and I sit to her right.
“Way to go, big bro,” Lucky says, leaning into me with a wink. I bat him away with my napkin and pick up my fork. Mia goes red as she sits uncomfortably next to me, listening to my brothers act like the juveniles they are.
“I’m so glad you could make it, Brando,” Allegra says, swinging her eyes my way. We’ve come a long way, she and I. From feeling no empathy for the girl who my older brother took as his blood oath to feeling everything. We all feel the same about the woman who now sits at the head of the table keeping us in line. She’s a stark reminder that not all women are evil like our mother.
“Where else would I be on a Thursday night?” I smile and shrug at her, then watch the interaction as she tells Mia that Thursdays are family night, a Gatti tradition that trumps all others.
“And if he hadn’t come,” she adds, “he would’ve received an earful from me tomorrow.”
It’s true. God help anyone who misses a Thursday night dinner. You could break every rule under the sun and she wouldn’t bat an eyelid, but God forbid you break a long-standing dinner invitation.
“So Mia, what misfortune befell you that you came to be shackled to my brother?” Rafi asks, as he cuts into his parmigiana.
Mia looks his way suddenly, her eyes wide before she turns to me in confusion, her turmoil telling me she’s wondering how he could possibly know she’s in trouble.
“Don’t mind my brother,” I tell her. “He doesn’t seem to think any of us are capable of meeting a girl unless we’re saving her.”
She visibly relaxes beside me, although I know her sigh has not gone unnoticed. There’ll definitely be questions after tonight, and suddenly I’m questioning the wisdom of bringing her here. Maybe the ear bashing from Allegra for not showing up for dinner would have been worth it to save me having to explain myself when the time comes.
“He saved Allegra,” Rafi says, pointing from Scar to Allegra, reminding us of the disaster that was their arranged marriage.
“Uh-uh,” Scar says, as he lifts his glass to his lips. “ She saved me .” He looks at his wife with nothing but adoration radiating from his eyes, and I watch as Allegra smiles lovingly back at him. It’s so mesmerizing, it’s almost sickening. Mia watches them with the same kind of fascination we’ve all had watching them together, secretly wishing for the same thing. No-one will admit it, but who doesn’t want the kind of perfect relationship that my brother has with his wife?
“When are you due?” Mia asks, her eyes flicking towards Allegra’s belly. She lifts a hand to her stomach and rubs around it happily before she replies.
“Any day now. I was actually due yesterday, and I’m so ready to have this baby already.”
Mia nods, a thoughtful look on her face as she continues to watch Allegra’s hand as it massages her stomach. We spent so much time together when we were younger, I memorized all of Mia’s mannerisms, all her expressions and their meanings. Everything that meant anything to her. The look on her face now is the one she would have on her face back then anytime she would speak of her sisters and her love for them.
“Do you like children?” Allegra asks, her movements halting. She frowns, reaches out unexpectedly and puts a hand over Mia’s own shaking hand. I hadn’t noticed, but Allegra had. Mia was trying to mask the sadness in her eyes, but she couldn’t prevent the shaking in her hands or the way her body was revolting against her own trauma. “I hope you’ll come visit after I have the baby,” Allegra is quick to add, and this somewhat picks up Mia’s mood.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Mia tells her.
The rest of the dinner passes with light chatter, an uneasy truce hanging in the air as everyone delicately navigates around the tension from earlier in the evening. Scar continues to share stories about Allegra's pregnancy cravings, breaking into hearty laughter that briefly lifts the ominous cloud over us. I catch Mia smiling genuinely for the first time tonight, her gaze lingering on Scar and Allegra's interaction with what I can only imagine is respect tinged with envy.
As the plates are cleared and desserts are served, Rafi leans back in his chair, eyeing Mia with a renewed curiosity. “So, Mia,” he starts, his voice casual but edged with intrigue, “how did you really meet Brando?”
Mia stiffens slightly beside me, her fork pausing mid-air. I give her a reassuring look before answering for her. “It was all quite mundane, really. We knew each other years agon in school and happened to bump into each other at a coffee shop.” It’s not a blatant lie, it’s a half lie.
“Must have been some bump,” Rafi chuckles, clearly not buying it. He’s always had a knack for sniffing out secrets. “You’ve never brought anyone to dinner before.”
I can feel Mia tensing up beside me as the scrutiny intensifies. She sets down her fork, her appetite clearly gone. “Dinner was wonderful,” she says, looking at Allegra. A silent plea for help, an attempt to deflect further questioning by changing the subject.
The conversation soon shifts away from us, much to my relief. Allegra shares her plans for a mural in the nursery, detailing the color schemes and decorations. The excitement in her voice is palpable, and it momentarily distracts everyone from Mia and me.
After dinner, as we all stand to leave, Scar pulls me aside with a firm grip on my shoulder. “I sense trouble, brother,” he murmurs under his breath so only I can hear. “Are you okay?”
I nod silently, aware of the weight of his words. As we step out into the crisp night air, Mia shivers slightly beside me, wrapping her arms around herself.
“You alright?” I ask softly as I drape my jacket over her shoulders.
“Yes,” she whispers back, her voice barely audible over the bustling city sounds around us. “Your family is amazing.”
“Even the knucklehead that considers himself my baby brother?”
She laughs at that, then nods slowly, looking up at me with those deep blue eyes that seem to hold worlds of unspoken thoughts.
“He’s not so bad,” she admits quietly.
We stop for coffee on our way back to the penthouse. I feel bad about the way I treated her earlier and how angry and short I was over her past relationship with Frank. I can’t keep blaming her because I didn’t step up and let my intentions be known. Of course she was going to have a life outside of me. She was going to date and live and love and do all the things that normal teenage girls do. The fact that we were friends didn’t mean she was exclusively mine and always would be. We were friends, for crying out loud, nothing more. If I’d wanted something more, I should have stepped up and let her know. But I didn’t. No, I was a coward as a teenager. I didn’t think I deserved her, even though she never showed me anything less than unconditional love.
I don’t make a move from the carpark after we’re handed our drinks. We sit in the silence sipping our coffee, lost in our individual thoughts. Mia is the first to speak.
“I’m sorry, Brando. I never considered how me being in your life could be affecting your life. Never even thought about the time you’re losing away from your family and your work.”
“My life is under control, Mia. At the moment, you and your sisters are my priority.”
“Until you can get us on a plane out of here?” She sounds almost sad at the prospect.
“If there’s another option, we’ll explore it,” I tell her.
“Wouldn’t it just be easier if I stayed with Mason?”
“Easier for who, Mia?”
She’s quiet as she looks down at her latte. I set mine in the cup holder and turn over the ignition, preparing to leave the car park.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, Brando,” she whispers.
“Same. Yet here we are. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you, Mia.”
“I know you won't,” she murmurs after a long silence, her voice barely above a whisper. Her faith in me is unwavering. “But I can't help but feel like I'm pulling you into a mess that's not yours to fix.”
I keep my eyes on the road, focusing on the rhythmic flash of the streetlights. “I’m making it my business,” I reply, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.
The drive back to the penthouse is filled with unspoken words and lingering regrets, the city lights blurring past us like fleeting memories. Mia shifts slightly, her gaze fixed on the darkness beyond the windows, a somber reflection painting her features.
I park the car in the basement of the towering penthouse, turning off the engine but not moving to get out. The silence stretches between us like a taut string, ready to snap at any moment.
Mia reaches out then, her hand hesitating in the air before settling gently over mine. Her touch is warm—a stark contrast to the chill seeping through the windows—and inexplicably comforting.
“We're more alike than we think,” she says softly.
Perhaps she’s right. We are both ensnared by our pasts, yet here we are together in the present—a pair of intertwined destinies trying to forge new paths amid old ruins.
I squeeze her hand lightly and give her a smile. “Let’s go up,” I suggest, stepping out into the cool night air. I hold the car door open for her as she emerges. Together, we walk through the basement, each step echoing slightly louder than our thoughts. We’re silent in the elevator as we climb towards the penthouse, rising slowly from level to level, as if shedding the weight of our troubled legacies with each floor we pass. I feel her presence lingering like a promise in my heart—a promise of what might be if we leave the past behind and dare to defy our fates.