17. Family First #2
“Your glasses?” I guessed, my eyebrows furrowing as I watched her grow increasingly agitated.
“Si. My glasses. Where’s the girl put—”
“Mamma,” I said softly, reaching up to take them from where they were perched on her head. “They’re here. On top of your head.”
“Oh, silly woman,” she laughed, taking them from me and putting them on.
I smiled, pretending it was nothing, though the pain tightened.
A twist of grief I masked so she wouldn’t see it.
That’s the worst part. This disease was slowly taking my mother away from me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
There’s no sudden goodbye; it’s just hundreds of tiny ones I’ll never see coming.
“Show me, show me,” she encouraged, pointing at the phone in my hand. I leaned in closer, flicking through the photos while Mamma made soft sounds of approval. “Oh, she’s lovely, Sani. I’m so pleased you’ve met someone. Tell me what she’s like.”
“She reminds me a lot of you, Mamma,” I said, pushing my phone back into my pocket. “She’s smart and ambitious. She works as a night-time hospital administrator.”
“That’s an important job. She must be very responsible.”
“Si,” I smiled. “She’s funny, too. I don’t think she realises how much she amuses me. She’s witty and fierce, and she isn’t afraid to put me in my place.”
“Bravo,” Mamma nodded. “You need that, my reckless boy.”
I chuckled. “Si. But she’s also caring and sweet. You should see how she goes out of her way to look after her patients and colleagues at work. She has this innocence and vulnerability about her that has me hooked, but she’s not weak. She’s curious and drawn to darkness. She’s my little rebel.”
“Si,” Mamma placed her hand over her heart. “She sounds just like me.” She grabbed my face in her hands. “You deserve only the best, someone who will love you for who you are.”
“Well, hopefully she will. She’s playing hard to get. She’s been hurt in the past, I can tell, and it’s obvious she has her walls up. She doesn’t trust me.”
“What are you saying?” She swatted my arm. “Of course she will. Show her all of who you are, and she will never leave your side. I swear it.”
I sighed. “It’s complicated. She isn’t a part of our world. She’s the mayor’s daughter.”
Mamma tutted as if that wasn’t a problem at all. I smiled, feeling my heart expand because this was the woman I knew. The one who believed love conquered all. “You’ll make her a part of your world. If she’s the one, it will be.”
A knock came, and Liliana poked her head around, carrying a tray with two mugs of coffee. “Good morning, Nonna. I’ve brought you and Zio Sani a drink.”
“Grazie, dear,” Mamma said with a soft smile that didn’t reach her eyes as she watched Lili set the mugs down on the table.
There was a flicker of familiarity in her eyes, but it was clear she was struggling to place her.
I nodded my thanks to Lili before she left, and Mamma continued to stare at the door with a quizzical expression.
I swallowed, picking up my mug to take a sip to avoid having to confront the fact that Mamma couldn’t remember the name of her first grandchild.
“Liliana makes great coffee,” I said, placing it down on the table. Mamma’s head snapped towards me, and a slow smile spread.
“Liliana,” she repeated as it clicked back into place. “Si. She does. She’s a good girl.”
We sat and talked for a while longer before I suggested we take a walk around the gardens to get some fresh air.
Even though I’d only seen her two weeks ago, I was sent spiralling when I noticed she seemed more unstable on her feet.
I tucked her arm in my elbow, and we took one slow lap around the garden, stopping so she could admire the flowers every so often.
When we got back to the house, she seemed exhausted and said she wanted to lie down for a while, so I helped her into bed, removing her shoes and tucking her in.
“I love you, Mamma,” I whispered in her hair as I leaned down to kiss her head.
“I love you too, Tesoro. You’re not leaving, are you?”
“No. I’ll come back later after you’ve rested.”
That seemed to settle her, and I slipped out of the room to find Raya tidying the living room, stacking magazines, and picking up the two empty mugs we’d left.
She had her earphones in, listening to classical music, no doubt, and I watched her for a few seconds, studying her.
Liv was right. Something was wrong. She looked shattered. Dark circles curved under her eyes.
She froze when she spotted me, then removed her earphones and rushed over. I embraced her as she buried her head in my chest and held her tight.
“You okay, Sorrelina?”
To my horror, her body began to shake, and my shirt became damp as she cried silently into my chest.
“Va bene, va bene,” I soothed, every muscle in my body tensing because I knew it had taken a lot for Raya to reach the point of breaking down.
She was the type to suffer in silence until she physically couldn’t hold it in any more, or until I pestered her so much that she gave in and told me what was bothering her. So this was bad. “What’s wrong?”
My mind spun with all the possibilities. Was this just about Mamma? Or had someone hurt her? Upset her in some way? Was it a man? I’d fucking wring his neck if any fucker had upset her. No, Gio would never allow that to happen under his roof. She was safe here.
She suddenly wrenched herself out of my arms and wiped her face with the sleeves of her baby-blue cashmere jumper. “Sorry. I’m fine. I just got overwhelmed seeing you.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Raya,” I said, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her back into my arms. She wrapped hers around my waist, and we stood like that for a few more minutes until she seemed calmer, though I felt more agitated than ever. “Talk to me.”
“Things have just been… really shitty. I miss you, that’s all,” she mumbled, and the boulder-sized stone of guilt slammed back into my chest. I didn’t know guilt could be physical pain until recently.
Not only guilt for not visiting Mamma enough, but also for not visiting Raya.
I never meant for her to feel abandoned when I moved to Rome and took on the underboss position, but I knew she did.
Maybe I’d let her rely on me too much growing up.
Or maybe I was too protective of her. Either way, she was drowning here without me, and I hated it.
“Why don’t you come and stay with me in Rome for a while?” I suggested as we took a seat on the sofas.
She shook her head. “I won’t leave Mamma.”
“Liv and Gio think it might be time to get some hired help. Maybe they’re right—”
“No,” she snapped, shaking her head furiously. Her long ringlets danced across her face. “I can manage. I don’t want a stranger looking after Mamma.”
“Soraya, don’t be stubborn. You look as if you haven’t slept in days.”
“Do you think I’m failing?” she argued, her hazel eyes snapping up to glare at me. “Do you think I can’t take care of her? How about a thank you instead of a lecture, Sani? You sound just like Gio.”
“Gio is only looking out for you. He can see you’re struggling, and he wants to help. We all want what’s best for her and for you.”
As if he had a radar for sensing when the most emotionally charged moments were unfolding so he could interrupt, the door opened, and Gio strolled in, with Elenora on a video call. He quickly scanned the room as he walked towards me, gave me a brief greeting, and then asked where our mother was.
“Sleeping,” I answered as he took a seat in a chair opposite us and propped the phone on the coffee table.
“Okay. Now is a good time, then. We need to discuss an action plan for her care going forward,” Gio said, nodding towards me. It was a subtle command to say I’ll need your support with this, but I was already prickling at his ambush.
This wasn’t the way to get through to Soraya.
But this was my practical brother, who always pushed for a solution.
He took the emotion out of it, tried to digest the facts, and plan because he could see the train coming down the tracks with no brakes.
He knew Soraya was standing in front of it, refusing to move.
He was trying to protect her while she thought he was replacing her.
“Mamma’s condition is getting worse,” he breathed, glancing at Soraya, then at me. “She nearly overdosed on her pills last night because she’d forgotten she’d already taken them.”
“That’s an exaggeration,” Soraya muttered. “She took two extra before I realised and stopped her.”
“She is going to need around-the-clock supervision soon. We’ve been doing the best we can, but it would lessen the load if we hired help, at least at night.”
“Why at night?” I asked, realising I’d been kept in the dark about how bad the situation was, more than I’d thought.
“She tends to wander,” Gio answered. “She gets confused about the time of day and often gets out of bed. The night soldiers have had to escort her back, but she starts losing it with them because she doesn’t recognise them.”
“I’ll sleep with her,” Soraya argued.
“You barely sleep as it is. No,” said Gio, shaking his head. I glanced between them, feeling torn.
“Raya,” Elle interjected from the phone. “You’ve been so amazing, Sweetie, but it’s too much. It’s only going to get worse.”
“So you’re okay with hiring someone who sees Mamma as just some… task? A paycheck? What’s next? Do you want her to leave her home?”
“Of course not,” Elle said. I rubbed my hands down my face.
“I said I’d care for her, didn’t I? Gio can’t stop working. You live in Sicily with the kids. Sani is in Rome, so I was happy to look after her. If I tell you I’m managing, I am. Liv helps too. We’re fine.”
Gio stared at me, and I realised I was expected to back him up. I inhaled deeply before turning to Raya. She glared at me as if to say, ‘Don’t you even dare.’
“Raya, you just burst into tears. I’m worried. They might be right. It’s okay to ask for help.”
She scoffed. “So I’m being punished for being emotional?”