Chapter 24
VIOLET
The waiting room feels like an interrogation room. Not that I’ve ever been in one, but I’ve seen enough on television to know this is what the bad guy feels like when he knows he’s been busted.
The triplets are staring at me with utter hatred in their eyes, and a few of my other cousins all look like they’d kick me out of the family if they had the option. I’m sitting in a chair, surrounded by my family, but I’ve never felt more alone.
It’s because of me that Papa’s here in the hospital.
If he dies, the coroner can put whatever he wants on the paperwork, but the truth is he’s going to die of a broken heart . . . and I’m the one who broke it.
Finally, Mom speaks. “Do you feel any shame at all about what you’ve done?”
“Mom, I—”
“Quiet!” Mom thunders, getting out of her chair to tower over me.
She’s not that tall, but right now, I feel like I’m five years old again and she’s a giant that I have to crane my neck to look up to.
“Just shut your mouth, Violet! You . . . you lied to us! You lied to your family, you lied to me, your own mother! Why? What reason could you have for this . . . this charade? What could be so important to you that you’d bring shame on yourself and on your family—”
“Maria.”
“You’ve disgraced yourself, Violet Antonia Carlotta Russo,” she spits out.
“Maria Valentina!”
Nana’s voice cuts through Mom’s yelling, and she takes a step back, tears coursing down her cheeks. “Never,” Mom whispers, “never have I been so . . . disappointed in you.”
Mom sits down, and I swallow my tears, looking down at my hands in my lap. I’m still wearing my wedding dress, the white silk stained reddish-purple in spots where wine spilled on me as I rushed to Papa’s side.
“Mom, I—” I start, choking back my tears to try and be mature and adult. I can’t change what I’ve done, but I can be the woman that she and Papa raised me to be from here on out.
“I don’t want to hear it, Violet. Not right now.”
“You asked me why, and—”
“You’ve heard of a rhetorical question, haven’t you?” Mom snarls.
“Maria!” Nana snaps, her voice brooking no argument. “I raised you better than that.”
Mom looks like she’s about to snap at Nana, and I whimper at the thought. Nana and Mom fighting? And Aunt Sofia sitting calmly next to her sister, being a supportive rock because she’s been through this already?
It’s too much, and I feel like I’m about to crawl out of my skin.
The waiting room door opens and Ross comes in, his hand wrapped in an elastic bandage and another large bandage covering his eyebrow.
After he and Colin finished beating the shit out of each other, he’d gotten a nasty gash that the emergency room doc insisted on treating, probably to keep the crowd down.
“Get out!” Mom yells at him, starting to get back up again, but Aunt Sofia grabs her and holds her back. From her seat, she waves her hands. “Get out. You are not family, not really. Look what you have done, what you have both done. Stupid children!”
Ross starts to speak, but a doctor comes in. “Mrs. Russo?”
I can hear it in her voice, everyone can, but Nana’s a rock. She stands with all the dignity of a queen, her voice barely quavering. “Yes, I’m Angela Russo.”
Ross comes to my side, and this time, at least, Mom doesn’t say anything because all of us are laser-locked on the doctor and what news she might bring.
“Mrs. Russo, we’re doing the best we can, but I want to warn you that there’s a real chance he might not make it through the night. If there’s a priest or other spiritual advisor you’d like to contact, now is the time.”
Her words shatter me, and the tears that I’ve struggled to hold back since I saw Papa collapse pour forth.
This was supposed to be the best day of my life. I’d tried to give Papa that last happy memory, to make his dying wish come true.
Instead, it’s become my worst nightmare, and as Sofia supports her sister, I feel worse than I’ve ever felt before.
Nana, though, as much as she must be breaking on the inside, draws upon that well of strength she has.
“May I see him?”
The doctor nods, leading Nana and Mom to the back but stopping everyone else with a shake of her head. In the silence that follows the door swinging closed, I want to scream in anguish, but I can’t. Not after the strength Nana just showed.
“I think there’s a conversation you need to have,” Aunt Sofia says, lifting her chin at Ross.
I can’t do this, not now. My brain is too fried, my heart too filled with fear, but she’s right. “Let’s step out,” I tell Ross, wanting to get away from the glares of my family. They’re frigid with me, but they look like they’re plotting Ross’s murder.
He nods woodenly and then winces, and I think he must have a hell of a headache from the fight and the blow he took to the head.
In the hallway, I close the door behind me, separating us from my family, not that anything’s secret now.
“Violet, I—”
“No, Ross,” I whisper, the anger building within me. I want to rage at the world, bemoan the unfairness of it all, go back and wipe the last little while from existence. I’d do anything to have Papa healthy beside me once again.
The guilt gnaws at me. Oh, there’s enough to go around, but most of it lies on my shoulders. But Ross is the one standing here with me while everyone else either hates me, is disgusted with me, or is just avoiding me.
So Ross is the target, and he’s going to catch the full blast of everything I’ve got.
“What the fuck just happened?” I ask, stepping up to him. “How did Colin even get in? Why didn’t you stop him before he ruined everything? What if Papa doesn’t make it?”
The questions I’ve been asking myself blurt from my lips. I’ve been replaying the scene in my head on a loop, changing small details and trying to figure out how that would’ve affected the outcome. If anything could have prevented Papa from being here like this.
Ross tries to put his arms around me, to hug me to him, but I shake him off. “No. Don’t you get it? It’s over . . . our lie, our relationship, our . . . everything. Everyone knows it’s all fake. It’s all fake, and because of us, Papa’s here! You and I, we did this!”
I fall apart, ugly, snotty tears making my puffy face slick with sadness and fear again.
“We didn’t mean to,” Ross says lamely, trying to find some sort of justification for what we’ve done.
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter now. Just leave. Please.”
Ross looks like he’s about ready to cry now, his throat working. “Vi—”
“Leave,” I whisper. “This fairy tale’s over.”
Ross looks like he wants to argue but instead, after a moment, nods, leaving me alone in the suddenly empty hallway.
I’m alone.
All alone.
The tile seems so comforting, and I sag to it, finally able to sob the way my heart demands.