26. June 2024
26
June 2024
A warm light enveloped Vaughn as he stepped inside his family home. The smell of rosemary and garlic grew stronger as he headed to the dining room for Friday dinner.
‘There he is,’ his father said, rising from his seat and hugging his son. ‘Sit, eat.’
Vaughn nodded a greeting at Antonio as he lowered himself into his seat, then looked around at the food on the table. A platter of antipasti sat alongside crusty bread. ‘Where’s Ma?’
‘I’m right here,’ Paula said, entering the room with a large baking dish in her hands. ‘We were about to start without you.’
Vaughn rose to kiss his mother. ‘Sorry I’m late.’ He made room for the tray on the table. ‘I had some urgent business to finish up.’
‘Antonio tells us you’ve been working a lot lately,’ she said as she sat down. Then her gaze fell to his red, swollen knuckles. ‘Leaning into particular tasks, it appears.’
He poured himself some wine. ‘I’ve had a lot on my plate.’
‘Is that why you’ve been sleeping at your office most nights?’ Paula asked with blatant disapproval.
‘Leave him be,’ Salvatore said, picking up his glass and raising it in the air. ‘Alla vostra salute.’
Vaughn and Antonio raised their glasses. ‘Salute.’
‘Cheers,’ Paula said with a playful smile aimed at Salvatore.
He shook his head in good humour.
‘I made you boys pasta con le sarde,’ Paula announced, gesturing for everyone to start serving themselves. ‘Friday night was always fish and chips when I was growing up. Look at me now.’
Salvatore appeared offended by the comment. ‘You want to make fish? We’ll eat fish.’
‘Oh, I’m making it, am I?’ She looked between her sons. ‘You both know how to cook.’
‘There’s a great fish and chip shop five minutes away,’ Antonio replied, spooning food onto his plate.
Salvatore tutted. ‘Your mother cooks better than anything you can buy.’
Paula winked at him, then smiled at her plate.
‘Tony, where are you with the new stage for the Star?’ Salvatore asked.
A mere mention of the theatre where Willow danced had Vaughn wishing he could leave the table. It had been weeks since he stopped going to the theatre to watch her, but she remained firmly imbedded in his mind. She was the one thing he couldn’t outwork.
Antonio finished his mouthful of food before responding. ‘Turns out the foundations are still in good nick. We’re just adding a new foam pad, surface, and trap door.’
Vaughn leaned back in his chair. ‘The stage foundations built in the 1940s are still okay?’
Picking up a piece of salami, Antonio tossed it into his mouth and chewed slowly. ‘That’s what I said.’
Vaughn stared hard at him. ‘You checked it yourself?’
Antonio’s gaze was cold when it met Vaughn’s. ‘Are you seriously fucking asking me that?’
‘Enough,’ Salvatore said in a tone that made them both fall silent. ‘Your mother has cooked for you, and you repay her by speaking like that at the table.’ He narrowed his eyes at Vaughn. ‘You left DeLuca, left the business. You left . We supported you and defended your decision. Your brother does the job you didn’t want to do—the one you walked away from. Show him some respect.’
Paula reached out and touched Salvatore’s arm, a simple gesture that had his shoulders dropping a few inches as the tension was released. Vaughn understood the power of a touch like that. Willow held the same power over him.
‘It’s better now that you’re out of the business,’ Antonio said, his lips turned up. ‘You were just in the way.’
Vaughn caught the mischievous glint in his brother’s eyes. Rising, he walked over to the drinks cart and grabbed a tumbler and the bottle of scotch.
‘A little early—even for you,’ his father said in a disapproving tone.
‘It’s been a long week,’ Vaughn said as he poured himself a generous glass.
His mother frowned at the drink but didn’t comment.
Vaughn drank to quiet his mind while the rest of the family ate their meals and discussed everything from changes in council recycling policies to their butcher reducing the size of the lamb sausages. The scotch helped to drown it all out, but it didn’t block Willow from his mind as he’d hoped.
He’d seen her out jogging a few days earlier. She looked thinner than usual—paler too. Even from a distance, he noticed the light drain from her eyes in his presence. His first instinct had been to go to her, but to what end? It had taken all his mental strength to climb into his car and drive away from her. He had struggled to focus on work after that.
‘Vaughn?’ his mother said loudly.
He looked up and found all three of them staring at him. ‘What?’
‘Did you hear any of what I just said?’ Paula asked.
Not one word . ‘Something about sausages…’
Salvatore shook his head. ‘When you’re at work, your mind should be on work. When you’re here, your mind should be here with your family.’
Paula’s face filled with sympathy, like she knew exactly where his mind had been. ‘I don’t think his mind is on work.’
Setting his knife and fork down, Salvatore asked, ‘Is this about the dancer?’ with his usual amount of tact.
Vaughn rubbed tiredly at his forehead.
‘She looks as sad as you every time I see her,’ Antonio said. ‘Why not just call her and fix things?’
Vaughn met his gaze. ‘“Fix things”? You mean, our family ? This life ?’
‘She shouldn’t have been at your bar that night’ was Antonio’s reply. ‘If you poke around in dark rooms?—’
‘Careful,’ Vaughn warned.
Paula looked between her sons. ‘What’s gotten into the pair of you tonight?’
Salvatore picked up his fork and waved it between them in warning. ‘If there’s a problem, you sort it out before coming to the table.’
Vaughn nodded. ‘You’re right. Sorry.’
Paula sighed and watched him for a moment. ‘It was real. It’s supposed to hurt. I’d be worried if it didn’t.’
‘I think you both did the right thing,’ Salvatore said before putting a loaded fork into his mouth. ‘Your life is complicated enough. There are plenty of suitable choices. If you’re ready to settle down, we can find you a nice girl.’
Vaughn blinked slowly. ‘You do realise how ridiculous that advice sounds coming from you, right? You married a nurse who had no idea there even was mafia in our city.’
Salvatore swallowed his food, fork waving once more. ‘Your mother had set my nose and stitched me up enough times to know what she was getting into.’
‘You were in that emergency room so often, I was beginning to think you were punching yourself in the face in order to see me,’ Paula said. Then, looking at Vaughn, her expression softened. ‘Sometimes it isn’t a choice. Sometimes you can’t let a love like that walk away.’
There was a tightness in Vaughn’s chest that was becoming unbearable. ‘I should go,’ he said, pushing his chair back and rising. ‘I’ve got a meeting with a supplier at Titian.’
Paula looked down at his plate. ‘But you’ve barely eaten anything.’
‘It was delicious, thank you.’ He went to kiss her, clapping Antonio on the arm as he passed him. ‘See you, Pa,’ he said, patting his shoulder on his way out.
The sound of his mother’s chair scraping followed by footsteps had him closing his eyes.
‘Vaughn,’ she called.
He was only a few strides from the front door but couldn’t walk out on his mother. He turned, waiting for the barrage of words.
Paula searched his eyes, her own filled with worry. ‘Your father deserved to be happy, and so do you.’ She paused. ‘And so does Willow.’ A weak smile came and went on her face. ‘I knew what I was getting into. I knew this wouldn’t be an easy life, but a life without Salvatore Gallo? That was not a life I wanted.’ She reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. ‘Make sure you get some proper sleep—in your bed.’
Nodding, he left before she could say anything else.
Outside, Finn was leaning against the car, on his phone. He shoved it into his pocket the moment he spotted Vaughn, then opened the rear door. ‘That was quick.’
Vaughn nodded and climbed in. ‘Going to Titian.’ He waited for Finn to get in. ‘I need Liliana Chén’s number.’
The driver glanced in the rear-view mirror as he messaged someone to get it. A minute later, the number came through via text. Vaughn dialled it as they pulled away from the house and headed down the drive.
Lili answered with a cautious ‘Hello?’
‘Miss Chén.’
She exhaled noisily, almost painfully, into the phone. ‘Vaughn Gallo.’
‘Bad time?
‘It will always be a bad time when it’s you on the other end of the line. What do you want?’
His lips twitched. ‘I wanted to know how Willow’s doing. Figured you’re the best person to ask.’
Lili was quiet for an uncomfortable amount of time. ‘I suppose I should be thankful you called me instead of her. She’s finally doing much better.’
That was good news. Wasn’t it? ‘Good. I’m pleased to hear that.’ And he was—even in his current state of misery.
‘She was struggling to eat,’ she said.
Guilt smashed him.
‘I was worried for a minute there,’ she continued. ‘Thankfully, they build them tough in the western suburbs of Sydney. She’s not going to let a little thing like heartbreak keep her down for long.’
He looked out the window, adjusting the collar of his shirt. ‘So, she’s eating now? Sleeping?’ His eyes closed. ‘Dancing?’
‘Yes, she’s fine. I’ve got her.’ There was a pause. ‘You don’t need to call again.’
He really liked Liliana Chén. ‘Sounds like you have everything under control. I’ll spare you a follow-up call.’
‘I appreciate that.’
He felt the beginnings of a smile. ‘I’ll see you around, Miss Chén.’
‘Let’s hope not, Mr Gallo.’
The line went dead.
‘Everything all right?’ Finn asked from the driver’s seat.
Vaughn raked a hand through his hair and leaned his head back on the headrest. ‘Yes. Everything’s just as it should be.’