Chapter 34
Monday, June 12, 2017
It was a gloomy day in the Rosini household, and the sun seemed to mock us all by shining hotly and brightly. Grief hit Katrina hardest—harder than she probably even expected.
Today was Hector’s birthday.
Sitting on our couch in wait as Dominic wrapped up his shower, I sipped on my glass of milk, eyeing his half-eaten steak, prosciutto, and mozzarella sandwich. My stomach rumbled. My craving was too strong.
When Dominic opened the bathroom door, I froze, his sandwich halfway to my mouth.
“That was mine.”
I was caught red-handed. “Baby’s hungry,” I said on a whim and took my next bite.
Dominic laughed and tossed the towel on the bed, shaking his head.
After finishing my bite, I put the sandwich on the plate. “I promised Katrina I would help her bake Hector a cake, but I have no idea what she wants for him or what flavor or anything.”
Dominic zipped his slacks. “Which is why I handled it. Everything you’ll need is on the counter.” He turned to look at me, fixing his belt. “At least I can rest easy knowing that you won’t burn down the kitchen.” He winked.
I rolled my eyes, biting down slowly on the sandwich, dramatically tearing off a piece.
Sliding his arms into the sleeves of his dark red, button-down dress shirt, he walked over to me and snatched the final piece of sandwich out of my hand, stuffing it in his mouth.
If looks could kill, he would’ve been six feet under.
“I’ll make you one.”
My mood swung like a pendulum, a smile spreading across my face as he licked and kissed away the film of dried tomato juice from my chin. That harmless act of kindness sparked heat within me, but that kind of fun had to wait.
I buttoned his final couple of buttons for him. “Thank you for celebrating with us today. It means a lot to Katrina.”
He pulled away and stood upright, straightening out his sleeves. “She’s the only reason I’m giving a fuck about that asshole today.” He helped me to my feet.
I cupped his face and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I know.” I placed my palms on his chest. “And I’m proud of you for setting your hatred aside. Just promise me you’ll come find me before it becomes too much.”
Dominic held my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing my knuckles. His eyes met mine. “ Prometto .”
* * *
Flour dusted my denim overalls, the floor, and the countertop. Katrina laughed when I tapped my flour coated finger to the tip of her nose. Laughter had rang in the kitchen all afternoon, and I was grateful. I was also grateful for this chair because my feet were screaming.
“Is it done yet, Lulu?”
Both of us and Bianca stared at the oven’s window, Katrina most anxious to get her hands on the triple chocolate cake.
Angling toward Bianca, I said with a pained laugh, “Can you check?” I refused to stand up any time soon.
Grabbing the nearest oven mitt off the counter, Bianca warned Katrina away from the oven so she wouldn’t get hurt. She dragged one of the cake pans out just enough to see, using a pink toothpick Katrina fetched for her to check its center.
“It’s done,” she said, then placed both pans on the stove top, the oven mitt underneath it.
“Yay!” Katrina celebrated. “Do you wanna see, Lulu?”
I waved my hand in dismissal. “I trust your judgment. It smells good, though.”
In fact, it smelled so good that it took tremendous restraint to not grab a fork and dig right in.
“Can I have that water over there?” I asked Bianca, referring to the bottle further down the counter. After handing it to me, she took a butter knife and began working around the edge of one of the cake’s layers. I almost choked on my sip of water the moment Katrina cried out in panic.
“You ruined it!” Tears filled Katrina’s eyes, nearing ready to spill. Shoving away the pain, I stood up and dragged my feet over next to Bianca, who had already backed away from the stove, her own panicked look written on her face.
I quickly caught onto the problem; Bianca accidentally cracked the edge of the cake. Nothing major to anyone else. The end of the world for my niece.
I put my hand on Bianca’s back as a sort of comfort as I looked at Katrina. “This can be our bottom layer. Or we can just cover it with frosting,” I told her calmly.
Tears ran down her cheeks. “It’s ruined,” she repeated. She wiped her face with her fists.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” Bianca apologized, sounding like she just might cry herself.
“I wanted it to be perfect.” Katrina dropped her head, fresh tears falling. “Like Papa.” She sniffed.
Bianca apologized softly to me, heartbroken in her own way. I wasn’t mad at her, but I couldn’t help but feel somewhat frustrated. I wanted—no, needed —Dominic’s advice at this moment, so I found a way to separate Bianca and Katrina.
“Do me a favor. Please go get Dominic and tell him it’s urgent.”
Nodding, Bianca silently slipped out of the kitchen. Tears lined her eyes, and it weighed my heart more.
I sighed as quietly as I could to myself, wracking my brain of any words to help diffuse the situation. Turning around, Katrina stood in place, staring up at me, sniveling. This was not how I planned Hector’s birthday. Fuck.
I snatched the towel hanging on the oven door and had a seat in my chair, calling for Katrina to come closer. I wiped her face.
“Sweetheart, nobody’s perfect. Not me, Bianca… Or your grandfather. But that doesn’t make us any less special, just like that cake up there.”
“But it’s broken, Mommy.”
My heart split further at her tone. Her pain.
I drew her into a tight hug. “I promise we can fix it. And I know your grandpa would appreciate it no matter what because you helped make it with your own two hands.” I pulled her away, wiping stray tears off her cheeks and the linings of her eyes. “It was made with love by those of us who love him. And to be honest… He probably would’ve already eaten that cake before we could finish frosting it. He loved chocolate.”
A shaky smile ghosted her lips before she broke down again.
“Come here,” I murmured, hugging her. I kissed her head, rubbing my hand up and down her back. “He loves you. He wouldn’t care about that minor imperfection.”
“I’m sorry, Mommy,” she said, her words muffled against my shoulder.
“Don’t be. It’s a rough day for all of us. It’s okay to let a few tears out. I’ll show you a trick when we frost it so no one will notice, okay?”
She nodded against me. “We don’t have to bake another cake?”
“No.”
She pulled away, her nose red like Rudolph. She sniffed. “Can we make a cake for Uncle Thomas, too?”
I hid the pang of heartbreak that struck me in that moment, nodding. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up while we let the cake cool? Then, we can get started on your papa’s dinner.”
She nodded, smiling wider, and then, she hurried past me out of the kitchen. I sagged back against the chair, blowing out a tired breath.
A familiar pair of Oxfords click-clacked toward the kitchen’s threshold.
I let out the tears I held back.
“ Bellissima .” He stood behind me, leaning over and kissing my head, his fingers in my hair. “She’s hurting, just like you, and I wish I could change that.”
“I just want this day to be over,” I confessed, my voice cracking. “Seeing her cry like that…”
“You and me both.” He kissed my head once more. “Why don’t you, too, go wash up. Rest until dinner.”
“I can’t.” I craned my neck to look up at him. “We have to frost the cake. She’ll be upset if I’m not here with her to do it.”
Dominic walked around past me and went over to the cake, inspecting it himself. “Then, at least change out of that outfit into something more comfortable. I’m not forcing anyone to dress up today anyway.”
“What about your mom? I want to go check on her. She seemed just as sad as Katrina was.”
Turning around, Dominic nodded. “She’s in the office.”
“Is she okay?”
“She will be.”
I had to talk to her, convince her Katrina wasn’t mad at her. I knew if I were her right now, I’d be feeling like the biggest scum of the earth.
I grabbed Dominic’s hand and let him help me to my feet.
“Did we do good?” I asked, referring to the cake.
Dominic gave a chef’s kiss. “It’s magnifico .”
I narrowed the gap between us and kissed him on the cheek. He dipped his head as I brought my lips to his outer ear, speaking low enough for only him to hear.
“That’s not the only thing that’s magnifico around here.”
* * *
Somehow, Dominic convinced Katrina to let him and her frost the cake and make one of Hector’s favorite meals: spaghetti bolognese. The rest of her uncles and even Bianca helped with dinner. Katrina forgave her in the end, to all of our relief.
I squeezed in a nap. Well, as good a nap as I could’ve gotten these days.
Before my nap, I watched the kitchen camera, my heart warming at the sight of Katrina and Dominic specifically. She swiped a little of the chocolate icing Bianca made and pressed it onto the tip of his nose, laughing. He pretended to try taking a bite of the cake much to Katrina’s distress, paying for it in the end when she smeared more frosting on his face as karma. Dino laughed the loudest and hardest, high-fiving her.
It all gave me greater hope and reassurance and a better talking piece to truly prove to Dominic that he and Lorenzo were never and could never be the same.
Our new butler, Christian Satriano, walked around the dinner table collecting the dishes, eventually leaving the room. We were stuffed from such an amazing meal and exhausted from carb overload.
Or so I had thought.
“I want to talk to Papa,” Katrina said out of the blue, breaking our collective silence.
“You don’t need to ask permission,” Dominic told her. “You can talk to him anytime.”
“Can you go get him?” she asked her uncle. He looked at her in confusion.
“The urn, bro,” Dino explained.
Lifting his chin in understanding, Dominic directed Dino to go get Hector’s urn. Dino set it down near Katrina on the white, lace tablecloth. She reached for the urn, but Dominic held up his hand, stopping her.
“Hold on. I want to say something first.”
Katrina sat back in her chair.
You can do this , I thought to myself, noticing the subtle tells in his expression and body language—staring hard at the table lost in thought, messing with the buttons on his sleeves, clearing his throat as he adjusted his collar.
“I’ll make this brief,” Dominic began, staying seated. “Hector Salamone was a man of integrity. Honor. He defined the code this family lives by—family above all.” He cleared his throat again. “He would’ve been sixty-one today.”
A knot formed in my chest. Tears wanted to reach my eyes. Throughout all that went down between me and Hector, I never wanted him dead. This family wasn’t quite the same without him, whether that was good or bad.
Dominic held up his glass of wine. So, we all did the same. Well, I held up my glass of water and Katrina her glass of juice.
“To Hector. May he look down on us all and be proud, and may he continue to rest in unconditional peace. Salute .”
“ Salute !” we all repeated in unison, raising our glasses higher before sipping on our drinks.
“You did great,” I told Dominic, winking with a smile.
I slid the urn over to Katrina after she lifted off of her chair again to reach for it. Angelo left his seat per Dominic’s request and held Katrina steady as she hugged Hector’s urn.
“I love you, Papa.” She gave it a kiss.
I looked away, losing control of my fight to hold back tears.
“I miss you,” she added. “You would’ve liked your chocolate cake. Lulu and B and my uncles helped me bake it.”
Bianca’s soft cry rose above mine.
“You would be proud of me, Papa. I’ve been good, and I’m happy here with everyone. Lulu’s even having a baby, Papa!”
I broke down, making a fist in my lap as I battled my self-control. Dominic took my hand in his, caressing my knuckles. He gently squeezed my hand as I bit my lip, crying harder.
“I know,” he said quietly. “You still have the floor, Katrina. Please go on.”
“I wish you were still alive, Papa. Please come back.”
A long silence stretched, and when I lifted my head, everyone was watching Katrina. She stared intently at the urn, quivering with sadness. We each sat in wait for her next words or next move. She swallowed the lump in her throat as a tear slid down her cheek. Her face twisted, more tears falling.
“The man that hurt you is dead. You… You can come back now, Papa. Please.”
Bianca, cupping her face in her hands, leaned into Anthony for support. I glimpsed him dabbing the lining of his own eyes with his finger before I noticed Angelo keeping composure, along with Dino and Dominic.
I stared at Dominic longer, seeing beyond his mask. The corner of his eye twitched. His jaw clenched through the war waging inside of him, his other hand a tight fist in his lap. He refused to wave his white flag.
In life, we learned the ways of navigation. We learned strategies to jump over its hurdles, and we learned to cope with its trials and tribulations. We pushed ourselves through the horrors of life. Those painful moments.
Dominic Rosini fought so many horrors in his short twenty-six years. He learned to wear his masks as he deemed appropriate, but this mask wavered, his bleeding heart revealing itself enough for me to see.
His hatred for Hector was substantial, but he still found enough space in his hardened heart to care about how Hector’s loss impacted the rest of us.