Chapter 12 #2
“Believe me, skank, he’s not missing out on shit because he’s got the best thing right here standing next to him!” India yells, as Loletta walks out the door.
Mother looks like she is on the verge of tears as she focuses on the two of us.
“Mother, I’d like to properly introduce you to my woman, India Okoye. India, this is my mother, Aurora Russo.” I politely introduce, trying to calm the situation.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Russo,” India greets, offering her hand. Mother ignores it as she stares at me.
“So, not only do I lose my husband to his black mistress, but I also lose my son to one too.” She hisses with venom.
My head snaps back at her words. Mother has never said anything like this to me or expressed how she felt about Momma Calista, but at this point, it didn’t fucking matter.
“Let’s get one thing straight, however you feel about Momma Calista is on you, but you will not talk down about her in my presence.
You chose to stay with papà when you knew he loved another, and because of that fucked up arrangement, he won’t leave you!
Why?! What was in your arrangement that won’t let you guys walk away from each other?
And what does Momma Calista or India being black have to do with anything?
Would it have been better if they were white?
Do you feel the same way about Dominique? ”
“I love Dominique! It’s not her fault your Papà and his whore conceived her while committing adultery!”
I cannot believe the words that are coming out of her mouth! I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone, hitting auto-dial then placing it on speaker. The other line picks up after two rings.
“Ciao, figlio” Papa greets.
“Papà, you better come get your wife!” I declared.
“What’s going on, where’s Aurora?” He questions.
“She’s here at my house saying some pretty bad things about Momma Calista!”
“How dare you call your Papà on me, Davide! Then he has the audacity to ask where I am! Where are you, Alessandro?! Oh, that’s right, with your whore, not here with your wife!” Mother spat.
“Aurora!” Papà shouts through the phone. “You forget who you’re talking to!”
“I know exactly who I’m talking to, Alessandro! I’m tired of this!” Mother shakes her head from side to side as tears roll down her face. “Why couldn’t you love me the way you love her?” She sobs. I reach for her, but she brushes my hand away. “Your Papà never wanted me!”
“Aurora!” He hisses. “Don’t do this, wait till I come back.”
“No, I think it’s time Davide knows the truth!
” Mother whimpers, wiping away her tears, looking at me.
She gives a sad smile. “Your Papà never wanted to marry me, but in those days, everything was about tradition. His father and my father were business partners who agreed to the arrangement to merge the families. When we initially met, I fell for your Papà’s good looks.
Though he told me I was beautiful, he didn’t feel any typed of attraction to me.
I just knew once we started spending time together, all that would change.
A week before the wedding was to take place, we met with our fathers to go over the details of the arrangement.
Your Papà had it noted that as long as I bore him an heir, he would make sure I was taken care of for the rest of my life.
I was young, and the idea of marrying a Don was all me and my friends ever dreamed of.
I agreed to the terms of the arrangement, and the following week we were married.
Things were fine; your papà was never mean or abusive to me, but there was always something missing, but when I became pregnant with you, I thought by me giving him his heir, he would begin to love me more...
” Mother sighs, looking at the floor. “I knew Alessandro loved me, but it was not in the way I loved me. On the outside, people would see this happy young couple who seemed so smitten with each other, but it was just for show. You know, I used to get jealous of how much love he showed you. How sad is that for a mother to be jealous of her own son?”
“Mother,” I whisper.
“But then he met her. I saw the change in him. He would get excited every time he left to go on his business trips to the states. At first, the trips were once every few months, then they became a monthly occurrence. I’m not stupid. I knew what was going on.”
“So why didn’t you confront him about it?” I question.
“I did once when he was home. I had just stepped into our bedroom, and he was on the phone with her. He didn’t hear me come in, so I stood there and listened as he told this woman how much he loved and missed her.
My heart broke hearing him saying those words, the words he should have been saying to me, he was saying to her.
When he noticed me standing there, he ended his call and acted like everything was right in the world.
I confronted him about the call and what I heard.
We ended up getting into a big argument, and when all was said and done, Alessandro told me I was never to question him about what he does when he leaves our home.
He has done everything he was supposed to do as a husband, and that was to make sure I was taken care of and not want for anything. ” A lone tear falls from her eye.
“But why stay?” I ask, still confused.
“Figlio,” Papà’s voice calls from the phone. I almost forgot he was still there. “Figlio, we are from the old country. Our ways are not like yours today. We do not believe in divorce, for it will look bad upon the family.”
Fuck tradition! I was over it. “You know what you can keep your tradition. Mother, I’m sorry you are not happy, but you’ve chosen to stay with Papà.”
“What was I supposed to do, Davide?! I’ve pretty much been a trophy wife our entire marriage. I have no skills, no training to get a job. Then there’s the fact Alessandro would have never let me leave with you!” Mother cries out.
I see the pain in her eyes, but this was too much.
I take hold of India’s hand then hold the phone up so Papà and mother both could hear what I had to say.
“I love you both and would never choose to take sides against either of you, but I want you to know I think both of you are at fault in this whole situation. Since neither one of you want to leave because of tradition, or because you want to continue to be taken care of, I’m done.
I have my own life to live and my own choices to make regarding it.
You made yours a long time ago, so continue to live by them. ”
Papà calls my name just as I hit the end button.
Turning to mother, I tell her, “I will talk to you soon, mother. I’m going to enjoy a nice lunch with India.
Oh, and mother, please don’t bring anyone else to my house for me to meet.
It’s very disrespectful to India.” She also calls my name when I turn and lead India out of the foyer.