Love and Liquor

Late Night Conversations

VII.
Late Night Conversations 

“You should have let me-,“ an angry voice rang out, before being cut short by an exasperated voice.                                                                                                                                         

“Meno Male! You are all safe!” 

Gia, Grace thought.                                                                                                               

She listened closer, trying to catch bits of the flying conversation downstairs, a task that proved more difficult than she had originally thought. Everyone seemed to be speaking over each other. It all sounded incoherent. Calculating the risk of getting caught seeing something she ought not, Grace cautiously stepped towards the top of the staircase, trying to catch a glimpse at what was happening.                                                                                                                                     

She began to feel like a child, being sent to bed, whilst the adults continued their more mature conversations without her. And even more so, now that she was sitting curled up in a ball listening intently at the top of the stairs; her flannel nightgown was making her look even younger.                                                                                                                                            

Grace strained her ears, but the conversation seemed to have ended.  She decided now would be a good time to go downstairs and find out what was going on. A prayer silently flitted through her mind, hoping she wouldn’t be interrupting anything.                                                              

Downstairs, everything looked just as it had an hour before when she left for bed. The lamps were still casting a warm glow on the reading chairs; the radio was still playing scratchy tunes softly. The only noticeable difference was that now the sitting room was more crowded.

Luca and the Don were back, as well as two other men that looked only slightly familiar. The older of the two had his arms around Nina’s waist. Grace assumed this was Vincent, but the other one, while bearing resemblance to the others, looked almost completely foreign.                          

They were all caught up in their own quiet conversations. Luca had yet to notice her as he spoke to his father. Grace saw Vincent whispering in Nina’s ear, turning her cheeks pink. Then there was Gia, fussing over the peeved other man in a way only a mother could ever achieve.

She seemed to think he was hurt, despite his negations.                                                                                              

“I’m fine mother, I swear to you,” he said, looking down at Gia, as he was considerably taller than she.                                                                                                                                                

Gia grabbed a fistful of his shirt, peering at it disbelievingly.                                                          

“There is blood on your shirt!” she insisted.