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ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ ᴛᴡᴏ 𝑁𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑦
❦
"Where do we go when this is all over?"
That thought had plagued Maria since the meeting between her mother and the Shelbys. The use of 'we' gave a sense of needed civility, now that the bulk of the conflict was over. It was cowardly, Maria would have said, had she been honest with herself, but cowardice was easy in comparison to the daunting prospect of loneliness and destitution, which was becoming increasingly likely without the support of her family.
"America, if you'll come with us," Luca said as he moved away from his wife.
Only moments ago, his hand had rested on Elena's swollen stomach, his gesture almost loving but the rigidness of his posture was anything but intimate. Elena, though, was elated by the attention, having been ignored by him for weeks as his precarious schemes unravelled on the world around them. As Luca moved away from his wife, to Maria's surprise, he draped an arm over her shoulder in the most brotherly gesture he'd made since he'd arrived in Birmingham.
"There's no home for me here anymore," Maria admitted. Her apartment was not the same, since she'd lain with Arthur. Her words were purposefully vague, until moments later, when she made up her mind. "And I'd very much like to see New York." She longed for Sicily but New York would do.
"Sweet Maria," Luca said with the slightest of smiles, his grin smarmy, a product of his business. "You'll like New York."
"Luca can take us to the tea rooms on fifth street, can't you, my love?" Elena said, moving around them to place a hand on his arm.
He paused a moment, and then tilted his head, the fedora he balanced tipping slightly over his eyes. "Of course."
"I've missed you, brother. This you. Not the man who takes over when you're in the mindset for revenge," Maria said, not meaning it to be an insult, nor did it sound like one.
"It's not over yet," Luca said slowly.
"I know. But you're still acting more like my brother than you have since you got here," she said, gripping his hand that rested on her shoulder and giving it a squeeze.
He thought for a moment. "I have a friend in New York who'd like to meet you."
"Really?" She looked up at him, knowing exactly what kind of friend he meant. She placed a hand on her stomach, looked up at him, and said, "tell me about him."
Luca's arrogance had never been too much of a surprise to Maria. It ran in the family, admittedly dominated by the males, though her mother had been famous for it. Arrogance was largely part of the reason her brother was dead. It was why her mother had been able to walk onto the enemy's territory with her head held high. And it was why Maria sat in the car beside the warehouse as the busting sounds of punches began. He never expected anything to go wrong.
