Chapter 20
Sunday, February 12, 2017
It was five A.M., and while I missed the feel of my bed and sleep, I stood in the kitchen at the island stirring pink cake batter in a mixing bowl, determined to give Katrina the best damn homemade birthday cake possible. It was her first homemade birthday cake, after all.
I stirred angrily as her heartbreaking admission from last night stuck with me.
“She never made me one. I had those gross ones from the store.”
“Does she not know how to bake?”
Katrina shrugged. “She had better things to do.”
“Did she tell you that?”
She nodded.
I understood that sometimes, parents didn’t have the energy to slave away in the kitchen for a birthday or two, or they didn’t know how to bake, but not giving your child something as simple and special as a homemade cake, even if from a box, because it was inconvenient… I considered that lazy. Then again, it seemed as if Maria only went above and beyond for her daughter when it made herself look good.
Shaking my head, I set the bowl down and went over to the oven, selecting the temperature to preheat the oven. I walked back over to the island and started preparing the cake pans with parchment paper.
Katrina wanted a pink cake with chocolate frosting. So, I whipped up a simple recipe for white cake and added pink food coloring. Once it was in the oven I planned to make the chocolate frosting, and while stacking the layers after they cooled, I had strawberry jam in the fridge to spread over each layer. I wasn’t the best at writing anything with frosting, but I doubted Katrina would have cared if the words “Happy Birthday” were neat or messy. This cake was specifically for her to eat. Dominic ordered a huge sheet cake for the rest of us to indulge on at the party.
Her party… Admittedly, I was nervous. We rented out a dining hall. Along with our family and the spouses and children of some of its men, the Baldomero and Maccarone families were attending, along with included spouses and children. It wasn’t necessarily safety that I was worried about, although with Nico still on the loose, safety was a constant concern.
I hadn’t met these families yet. Would they like me? Were they nice? Would they accept me? Oh, God, I hoped I didn’t accidentally make a fool of myself somehow. That was all I needed… To appear inept. I didn’t want to let Katrina down, either. Her party had to go off without a hitch. It had to be perfect. I would make it perfect for her. I had to.
The oven beeped, letting me know it was time to put the pans in. I finished emptying the batter, jiggled the pans a little to help even out the batter and combat the air bubbles, and went ahead and slid them into the oven. I closed the oven door and set the timer for forty-five minutes. I began cleaning off the island and counters and putting the ingredients back to their respective cupboards. Leaning against the counter by the oven, I scooped some of the leftover batter along the inside of the bowl and enjoyed a taste. I technically wasn’t supposed to eat raw batter, but sometimes, the temptation was too great. Oops.
My son moved around with each bite. He enjoyed it, too. He always kicked and moved with more pep when I ate certain foods like meats and his daddy’s cooking. Dominic’s homemade oatmeal was one of our favorites.
The front door opened and closed, making me pause. Then, I remembered Dino went for a run. He must’ve returned.
“Dino?” I called out, waiting.
Footsteps drew nearer, squeaking with each step.
Appearing at the kitchen’s threshold, his matching gray hooded sweatshirt and sweatpants dampened from the rain, Dino slipped off the hood and wiped his face with his sleeve, strolling into the kitchen.
“What’s up?” he asked.
I held out the mixing bowl for him, raising my brows. He made a beeline for it. I laughed as he dug right in and salvaged what he could of the batter.
“The fuck are you doing up at the crack ass of dawn?”
My laughter tapering off, I went ahead and gathered what I needed to make the frosting. “I’m doing what Maria was too lazy to do.” I began measuring the amount of butter I needed, catching sight of Dino pulling together his brows. “She couldn’t be bothered to bake Katrina a cake.”
“Ever?”
I nodded. “Ever.”
“Fucking bitch.”
A smirk curled my lips as I put the butter in the pot, turned the bottom left burner on the stove on low, and began measuring out the cocoa.
Dino set the mixing bowl in the sink and filled it with water to soak.
“Thanks,” I said, appreciative of his kind gesture.
He grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. The cap snapped as he twisted it off the bottle.
Attending to the butter again, I stirred it, feeling grateful for having the big brothers I did. Sometimes, I wished I had known them years ago. Maybe I wouldn’t have had to survive on the streets and endure shady and dangerous shelters. Maybe… Maybe they could’ve fought off Fabio sooner… And I would’ve still had my parents here. Nadia.
I sighed, adding the cocoa to the pot and stirring.
Life went the way it did for a reason. If I had gotten mixed up with this family sooner, would everything have panned out the same way? Would Dominic and I have still hooked up? Would I have still gotten pregnant? Would Dominic still have taken Katrina in? Would Hector have been around to see his granddaughter thriving?
“You good, Lil?”
I swallowed away the rush of emotion that overtook me before it had the chance to gain any real traction.
“Just my usual overthinking…” I wasn’t sure I wanted to finish my sentence. I was already emotional over Katrina and her lack of experiencing a homemade cake. Fucking hormones.
Dino came up to the stove, leaning against the piece of counter next to it. I sensed him staring. I didn’t need to look.
“Spill it.”
“Sometimes, I wonder what it’d be like if Hector ordered me here sooner.” The butter and cocoa mixture was thickening, so I reached along the counter and dragged the other mixing bowl next to the stove so I could soon pour the chocolate inside it to cool.
“Don’t torture your mind with the what-ifs. Trust me. It fucks you up.”
He was spot on. If I had lost myself in more what-ifs, I would’ve found myself drowning in heartbreak. I was blessed and grateful for what I had now, and I had to keep myself in the present. Out of the dark trenches of my mind.
I turned off the stove, continuing to stir the chocolate mixture as I lined up the pot above the bowl. Carefully, I emptied the chocolate into the bowl and gave it another few stirs before setting it aside to cool. I measured out the rest of the ingredients.
Moments later, I set the remaining ingredients aside. “It’s hard sometimes,” I offered as I readied the electric mixer, making sure I had it on the correct setting to whip up the frosting.
Dino put his hand on my shoulder as I was attaching the proper beater to the mixer, getting close enough so his breath warmed my outer ear. I stilled, my hand on the machine.
“You ain’t the only one who imagines the what-ifs.”
I met his gaze, his emerald eyes speaking for him.
Dino Santiago would’ve forever wondered… What if the universe aligned in our favor instead?
* * *
The Pavilion Gold banquet hall was fairly calm; then again, we were the only ones here aside from the staff. We got here early to set up for the party. The room we were holding it in was impressive, resembling a ballroom. Neutral tones with a touch of gold made it pop and paired well with the theme Katrina requested—Barbie, of course.
I thought it was cute except for all the pink. Pink napkins. Pink paper plates, cups, and plastic silverware. Pink streamers. Luckily, the tablecloths weren’t straight pink, although they had pink elements. Looking down at my dress, I laughed a little, shaking my head in amusement. From my closet, I chose my baby pink wrap hem cami dress with spaghetti straps and a simple, white cardigan for a more modest look.
Decorations were in their final phase. Katrina’s cake was in the refrigerator. She was on her way with Dino and Bianca and would arrive just as the venue came together. Perfect.
I weaved through the crowd of our family’s men and their spouses and kids, spotting Dominic across the room. His eyes soon found mine. He was happy to see me and was checking me out, ignoring the group conversation he then excused himself from. He leisurely made his way toward me, dressed in a simple, wine-colored, button-down dress shirt and black slacks. So delicious and so fucking divine.
“You should’ve sported some pink,” I said, joking with him.
“Forget it,” he said with a straight face, cracking an amused smile the moment I started laughing. He took me into his arms, staring lovingly at me. My arms slid around his torso.
“Do you think she’ll like this?” A part of me worried that Katrina wouldn’t be happy with the decorations or even all her presents. It was silly, but I wanted nothing less than for today to be one of the happiest days of her life. Would she play well with the other children? Would she like them? I didn’t realize I was thinking out loud until Dominic put his finger to my lips.
“She’ll love it.”
Those words and his simple touch—they put my worries at ease.
He slid his fingers under my chin, holding my gaze. “You worry too much.”
“This is true, yes.”
We shared a chuckle.
“What do you think’s going to happen? She’ll get here, see everything, and run for the hills?”
“Add in some screaming for dramatic effect.”
Dominic shook his head amusingly, placing his hand on my belly. “Does he need more blood?”
“Not right now.” I brought my left hand to the back of Dominic’s head at its base and squeezed his hair between my fingers, bringing him face to face for a kiss. “But I’ll need you ,” I spoke low against his mouth, “later tonight.”
A low, titillating growl escaped him, and then, he reclaimed my mouth, making a noise of frustration as he put his finger to his earpiece, pausing our kissing session to listen.
“Is she here?” I asked him. He nodded as he lowered his arm and pulled away. “To be continued,” I said seductively, squeezing his hair between my fingers once more, my nails grazing his skin.
Heading for the door, I looked around one more time, nodding in approval. She would love this. She deserved nothing less. Walking outside, I spotted the Escalade pulling into the parking lot. As soon as the vehicle stopped moving, the back right door flew open, and Katrina jumped out of the SUV and ran toward me.
“Lulu!” She held Mr. Cat under her arm. Her dress was adorable. In a pink lemonade shade, it flared at the waist, its floral brocade pattern a perfect touch.
I held out my arms, embracing her in a hug.
“How’s it goin’ in there?” Dino asked.
Letting go of Katrina, I looked up to see both Dino and Bianca standing a few feet away. “Just waiting for everyone to show up.” I hugged them, telling Bianca it was good to see her.
Bianca pulled back, motherly love shining in her gaze. “It’s good to see you, too.” She smiled. Walking alongside her, all of us headed toward the venue.
Katrina ran ahead of us.
“Wait!” Dino called out, walking faster, taking longer strides to catch up with her. He held her hand, saying, “Stay with us.”
I couldn’t fault her for being excited, and I understood Dino’s perspective. We all shared it. With Nico on the loose, we had to be extra cautious. Keep our heads on swivels.
“Hold on,” I told Katrina as I got close. She looked back and forth between me and the door, antsy. I wanted to see her reaction.
When I gestured for Dino to go ahead and open the Pavilion hall’s front door, Katrina made a mad dash to get inside, stopping just feet away from the threshold. I made my way past my brother and Bianca to see Katrina marveling wide-eyed at the space, her smile wider.
Everyone greeted her with, “Happy birthday!”
I bent over and gripped her shoulders. “This is all for you, sweetheart. Happy birthday.”
She spun around and clung to me, her hug strong. “Thank you, Auntie! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
* * *
Everything went off without a hitch. Katrina got along well with the other children. I managed not to make an ass of myself around the other families, and to everyone’s shock and surprise, Dominic pulled Katrina aside after she opened her presents and told her she could have a cat. The catch—it had to be kept in her room, or if she took it anywhere else in the house, it had to be on a leash. That was fair because who wanted to search high and low in this mansion to find it? With all its nooks and crannies!? Dominic told me to help her figure out what breed she wanted and to let him know.
It was all she talked about until we got home.
“Ow,” she said, reaching her hand back as I ran her brush through a small knot in her freshly-washed hair.
“I’m sorry. I think that was the only one.”
“It better be,” she grumbled to herself.
“Katrina,” I scolded, failing to stop from laughing at her sass. I had a sensitive scalp too, so I understood. I sprayed one last spritz of detangler on her hair, threading her brush through it. “Have you thought about what kind of cat you want?” She shook her head. “That’s okay; you’ve got plenty of time.”
I threaded my fingers through her hair to make sure I tackled all the knots and rats’ nests.
“Lulu, is there any cake left?”
“The one I made for you?” She nodded. “We do; it’s in the fridge.”
“Can I have some?”
Putting her brush down on her bathroom sink, I started to separate her hair so I could style it into a loose braid. She liked how it made her hair wavy.
“Tomorrow, I promise.”
“Pleeeease,” she whined.
She wound up loving her cake. After having a couple slices myself, I was impressed. I made a note in my phone of the recipe to make sure I wouldn’t forget it
“It’s late,” I said. “I don’t want you getting a tummy ache or a sugar rush.”
Pouting, she huffed, dropping the subject.
“What was your favorite thing about today?” I asked her, nearing the end of her braid.
“That cake.”
I laughed. “Okay, aside from the obvious, what else did you like?”
She made a face like she was in deep thought. “Presents,” she answered. “Definitely the presents.”
When we gathered around while she opened her birthday gifts, I lost track of who gave what. Thankfully, Dominic had that taken care of. I’d hate to be the one responsible for writing and addressing those thank-you notes.
One of her favorite toys was a pink ride-on Lamborghini. Dino found that one. It had LED lights and an mp3 player. She shared it with some of the other kids before she ended up driving it throughout the parking lot. And all the new Barbies and Barbie accessories… I was certain we’d need a tote to store it all in.
I secured Katrina’s hair tie and cupped the sides of her face in my palms, bending over and kissing the crown of her head.
“I’m glad you had a good day.” She smiled, thanking me. My hands now on her upper arms, we looked at each other in the mirror. “Let’s get you tucked in.”
“Okay, Lulu.”
She followed me out of the bathroom, passing me as I turned off the light.
“Did you have fun today, too?” she asked as she climbed into bed.
“Yeah,” I said, thinking about how fast the afternoon flew by, the laughs and the small talk, and just the importance of family. I walked over to Katrina’s bookshelf to select a bedtime story. “Yeah, I did.”
Dominic formally introduced me to Stefano Baldomero and Alessandro Maccarone. They both took a fast liking to me, congratulating me on my pregnancy. We chatted about Hector, but briefly, mainly regarding when I was sworn into the Salamone family. Sometimes, it kind of felt like they were sniffing me out, maybe even trying to phish for some sort of intel, and I mentally prepared myself for that. Women weren’t soldatos . This was unfamiliar territory, and with meeting me for the first time, none of them trusted me yet. That was obvious with Caterina Maccarone.
Mrs. Baldomero—Mia—was an absolute sweetheart, but Caterina… I was on her radar. While Mia and I became fast friends, Mrs. Maccarone looked at me as if I weren’t anyone special. I brushed it off, but it was still a tiny thorn in my side I couldn’t dig out.
I leaned on Dominic about it on the way home, learning that the Maccarones were never really fond of the Salamones to begin with. They felt the same with the Baldomeros. Alessandro hated any kind of competition, and although our families maintained peace and a long-standing truce, us and everyone else were still seen as rivals. Dominic didn’t give a fuck about Alessandro—his words—as long as he stayed in line and on our side. He told me not to lose sleep over Caterina, that she probably thought I was secretly after her husband. After I stopped laughing, I promised Dominic I wouldn’t let her bother me.
“What story would you like?” I asked Katrina, turning around to see her arranging her new addition of stuffed animals next to her on the bed.
“I don’t want a story tonight.”
Looking back at her books, I was a little bummed I wasn’t reading to her but also kind of selfishly thankful because a warm bubble bath and an early night was calling my name.
Speaking of stories, I heard some doozies at the party. Apparently, Stefano’s right hand, Ivan Braccia, beat a man to death with his own prosthetic leg that he originally lost after a tango with his chainsaw.
Thank God I’d developed an iron stomach over the years.
“Do you just want to hit the hay, too?” I asked as I placed tomorrow night’s story choice on top of that spot of books on the shelf so I wouldn’t forget.
“I want you to be my mom.”
Stunned, I turned around to see Katrina fighting tears. I heard them caught in her throat. She sat on the mattress with her legs crossed, hugging Mr. Cat. Why was she sad? Was she grieving Maria again? She was her usual self at the party, but I sensed a shift when we took her out for her birthday dinner. I thought maybe she was grumpy from being tired.
She cried into her stuffed animal, mumbling something else, but I couldn’t understand what. I hurried over to her and sat along the side of the bed, taking her into my arms. That was when the dam broke. Katrina’s loud crying gutted me. I rubbed circles on her back, doing my best to soothe her, reminding her to take a breath when she ended up choking and coughing through the weight of her cries.
It warmed my heart to be appreciated and wanted in such a way, but it cracked and split at her pain and that particular loneliness I was all too familiar with. I had cried myself to sleep wishing for mine, just as Katrina had. I was that same mournful, little girl who listened for hours to see if my mother would miraculously walk through the front door, except I wasn’t mourning the living. My mother didn’t choose to leave my life. The rejection and self-blame Katrina must’ve felt… It was unimaginable.
“Can you be my mom?” she begged.
Holding back my own threat of tears, I kissed her head, gently rocking in place. I cradled the side of her head in my hand, holding her to my chest. I wanted her pain to be mine. Her heartbreak. Her fear and, undoubtedly, her feeling of abandonment.
“If that’s truly what you want, then I’d be honored to be your mom, but just know, it’s okay if you ever change your mind.”
She sniffed. “Can I call you mom?”
I moved so I could tuck my fingers under her chin and tilt her head up, angling it so she could look at me. “You can call me whatever you’re comfortable calling me.”
She cracked a smile so slightly, I almost missed it before she moved away from my hand to once again curl herself against my chest, sniffling.
“I love you, Mommy.”
“I love you too, baby, so, so much.”