Chapter 29 #2
Luciana cocks an eyebrow and gives him a look that makes him appear indignant. As much as I try to stifle my laughter behind my hands, I sound more like I’m choking than anything else.
“See how it is, Mamá? Even my girlfriend sides with you. It’s not fair.”
“Well, now you have someone else to kiss your boo-boos and make it all better, gordito.”
His eyes widen, and I’m positive he’s blushing.
“What does gordito mean?”
“Chubby little boy. All three of my sons were born with the roundest little cheeks. I’ve always called all of them that.”
I have tears practically rolling down my cheeks as I laugh even harder.
If I thought Jorge’s day sounded pretty normal earlier, this is like Twilight Zone normal.
What alternate reality have I stepped into where a Cartel narco-trafficker is being teased by his mother?
And where said narco-trafficker is complaining to his mother about his older brother stealing his toys—or vegetables in this case?
Jorge wraps his arm around me and mutters to me, but I’m certain Luciana hears him. “I thought you were on my side.”
“Oh, I am, but I absolutely love this.”
He kisses my temple and smiles at me. I don’t think any of this was just for my benefit. I suspect the conversation would’ve happened anyway, even if I weren’t here, but it certainly puts me at ease.
“Anneliese, I don’t know whether Jorge has said this or not, but if he has to travel over the next few months, I’d very much like it if you’d come to stay with me.
I’m sure you don’t know too many people here in this city, and I know how overwhelming it is to move to a new country.
I did it when I went to UCLA and then again several years later with Tres J’s. ”
It surprises me to hear Jorge’s mom use that term for her sons. I figured it was a nickname or something people outside the family used for the brothers, perhaps in more of a derogatory way than as an endearment. Perhaps it’s both, depending upon who’s using it.
“I’d like that very much, Luciana. Thank you. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the States for more than just a couple of days and business meetings. I’m not that familiar with New York, especially outside of Manhattan.”
None of us acknowledge my ignorance of Cartel life and what it would mean if Jorge’s away from home. I appreciate that it goes unsaid, but at the same time, the offer is there.
“You’re welcome over anytime, especially without Jorge. The boy still eats me out of house and home. His brothers aren’t any better. I swore up and down when they each left home, my kitchen would no longer be a cafeteria, but it still is.”
“Jorge mentioned all three of them have dinner with you at least once a week and stop by at least once each. That must be a massive grocery trip every week for all three of them.”
“It is, but that doesn’t stop them, and sometimes they bring Alejandro and Pablo. I can never keep enough food in the house for them. It’s only gotten worse with age. You’ve seen how big they are. They all have hollow legs.”
My face hurts from smiling so much since Luciana arrived.
The conversation continues for another twenty minutes as mother and son catch up, not exactly skirting what happened to my family but not going into detail.
I’m exhausted but happy as she says goodbye.
Jorge shows me the main bedroom and helps me unpack as he makes space in the dresser and closet.
“Your mom is amazing.”
Jorge looks over at me as he lifts a stack of t-shirts out of one drawer and places them in another.
“She really is. I couldn’t ask for a better mom. We haven’t always seen eye to eye, and I didn’t love all of her rules. When I was a kid, she was definitely strict, but I’ve never doubted everything she’s ever done is out of love.”
“I suspect she’s very protective of you and your brothers still.”
“Absolutely.”
He pauses for a moment and assesses me. I wonder what he’s thinking because he’s definitely weighing whether he should tell me.
“Chiquita, when my papá died, Mamá made sure the men who did it paid for their sins. She ended the threat to all of us, so those men could never hurt anyone again. Mamá also made sure the man who hired them did too. She sent one of his huevos in a box to his wife with a handwritten note that said, ‘If I can’t have my man, neither can you.’”
What Jorge shares stuns me. The elegant woman who teased her son and made me feel so at home has a violent streak I never could’ve imagined.
It should shock the shit out of me and scare the piss out of me.
Instead, I respect her even more, and it relieves me to know she’s like that if I’m to stay with her when Jorge’s not around.
“Liesel, you need to know all of the syndicate mothers are like that. In the O’Rourke family, Breda, Saoirse, and Siobhan are not to be underestimated.
Before Siobhan’s son, Dillan, became the boss, it was the sisters’ older brother who led their family, and before that it was their father.
When their brother, Donovan, tried to make their sons go on a mission younger than they agreed to, Breda ordered a hit on one of Donovan’s men.
She made sure the guy was in intensive care for weeks.
She didn’t have him killed, but he was never the same afterwards.
She did it to remind her brother and everyone else that he might have been the head of the family, but his sisters’ hands were the ones who turned it.
Galina, Alina, and Svetlana are the bratva mothers.
They survived growing up in Russia, and their husbands were all KGB before becoming bratva. ”
That last bit isn’t as descriptive, but it tells me all I need to know about the bratva mothers.
“The Mancinelli women are like the O’Rourkes.
They all grew up in Mafia families and married Mafia men.
Maria Mancinelli is close to my age. Her uncle’s the don.
Her father’s his consigliere, or chief advisor.
Her oldest brother is the underboss, and her second oldest brother is the capo dei capi, or captain of captains.
Her husband’s one of the senior most capos along with her third brother and their cousin.
The best shooters out of all four families, until Tía Elle joined ours, were in that family. ”
I’m not certain what to say at the end of that story. I mull over what he’s just shared, and I’m struck by a realization that fills me all the way to the marrow of my bones.
“Jorge, you need to know that even though I don’t have the history your mom has or the mob, Mafia, and bratva women, I’m no different from them.
If we have children, I won’t think twice about protecting them the same way.
You say there are no limits to what you’d do to keep me safe, and I don’t doubt for a moment that would extend to any children we have.
I feel the same way about you, but I admit the thought of anyone harming our children creates such a visceral rage in me even you wouldn’t talk me out of whatever I’d want to do. ”
He stares at me for a long moment before he nods.
“Chiquita, the one thing I would ask of you, God forbid that situation should ever happen, is that you speak to me first. Not because I’ll try to talk you out of it, but to ensure your safety.
Let me work alongside you. If our children were ever in danger, I couldn’t bear risking you too. ”
“That’s fair, Daddy.”
I can live with that. I’m standing by the closet, and he walks over to me. He slides his arms around my waist, pulling my back to his chest as he kisses my neck.
“I love seeing your clothes hanging beside mine, chiquita. It looks so natural to have them there.”
“And I love knowing you made space for me to share your dresser too. It really makes this feel like home rather than just a place I’m visiting.”
“I think I need to show you just how at home you are in our bed, little one.”
I turn toward him, and he takes my hands loosely in his. He walks backward to the bed as he draws me with him.
“Daddy, can we be more adventurous tonight?”