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“You are young.” Maria looks at me with a mixture of motherly wisdom and pity. “You still believe in fairy tales.”
“It doesn’t mean our husbands don’t love us. But they have needs we can’t always give, especially when they’re doing business or traveling,” Francesca, one of the other wives, states. Like Bianca, her tone suggests she isn’t interested in having sex with her husband. Do they love these men?
“Of course, Don Conte might be different.” Bianca’s expression tells me she’s just trying to be nice.
“His father was devoted to his wives,” Maria adds.
Allessa laughs. “He couldn’t perform for his last wife.”
I perk up. “Lucy?”
They look at me, confused.
“Lucia?” I ask, remembering Lucy is the nickname we use. “My brother is married to her sister.”
They exchange glances that I can’t decipher. Did they not know Lucy returned to New York? That she was a co-boss with her husband, Donovan, in New Jersey?
“Yes, Lucia. She was good to Don Conte… Giuseppe.” Bianca clarifies that she’s referring to Luca’s father. “I know Luca feels indebted to her for her kindness and friendship to his father.”
“She’s remarried, is she not?” Maria asks.
“I nod. Donovan. He’s a good?—”
“An Irishman?” Maria raises a brow.
“His last name is Ricci.” I’m reminded that in Italy, they stick closer to the old ways, including only Italians in the Mafia. “They’re expecting a baby.” I’m not sure why I say that or even if it’s wise. Does Lucy have enemies who would cross the ocean to try and hurt her or her baby?
“Do you have children?” I quickly ask to move the conversation along.
Maria and Alessa have two children. Francesca laments that she is likely expecting her fourth child. Perhaps that’s why she seems to not like having sex with her husband.
The conversation continues about motherhood, but my mind reels about their acceptance of infidelity. Do all Mafia wives have to put up with this or just these ones? This, of course, leads me to wonder if Luca is faithful. Is he expecting me to accept that he’ll have a woman on the side? God. Is he with another woman now? Is that why he stayed overnight in Rome?
I’m feeling sick. I rise from my chair to go get a glass of water.
“Is everything alright?” Bianca asks.
“I just want some water.”
“I can have Rosa bring?—”
“No, that's okay. I need to walk off this wine.” I smile and hope they don’t see how torn up I am.
I can’t turn my mind off as I sip the water and contemplate my life. But I can’t stand in the kitchen all day, so I make my way back to the terrace. When I return, the women are speaking Italian. I don’t know what they’re saying, but I recognize Luca’s name. They stop talking abruptly, suggesting they were talking about me.
The women all look at Bianca expectantly.
“What?” I ask.
“They are concerned that your… expectations for marriage are naïve,” Bianca says carefully.
Naïve? Isn’t that what Luca called me?
“I told you what Luca went through to get me here, the risk he’s taking by going against my brother. Why would he do that if he didn’t love me? Only me.” How odd that I’m defending him when my brain is filled with doubt.
Bianca nods. “Of course?—”
“Show her, Bianca,” Maria says.
