Page 8 of Mafia’s Dirty Secret

“A very handsome, intelligent man, with a car, unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It’s some old Lamborghini, so he must have money. I think he’s Italian, but I haven’t had time to ask him that, yet.”

Her mother became agitated when she mentioned the car, and she even managed to almost push herself up in the hospital bed. Her hands clenched at the shiny rails so hard her arms quivered.

“He’s not Mafia, is he? You stay away from Mafia men, girl. They’re even more trouble than the rest of the men in the world. Cruel bastards, all of them.” Ruby’s anger made her throat work, but the voice was still little more than an angry whisper.

“I don’t think he’s Mafia, Mom. He’s probably just some business mogul down here to get away from the city and the snow. He’s not from around here, I know that, but I don’t know anything about the Mafia, besides that garbage that goes on in New Orleans.”

“I don’t care who he is, or what he is really, girl. You stay away from him, you hear me? You gotta stay right here and take care of me, anyway. You don’t have time for men or anything else. Just me!” Her mother’s angry face twisted as she spoke, and Marie knew it took every ounce of energy her mother had to have her say.

It didn’t matter though, not one bit. She didn’t care if her mystery man was Mafia or a vampire, for that matter. He brought something new and different into her life. There were possibilities, where before there’d been endless drudgery. The world had finally decided to pay her back for all the cruelty she’d endured over the years and had put the man in her path.

Maybe it was crazy, but she didn’t care. The thought that he wanted to touch her, to hold her, to make her smile gave her hope, and she’d all but lost that in the last few months. Her mother’s condition had become worse, and with each new symptom, Marie had lost more and more faith in the theory that we get what we give. Her faith was almost restored since she’d met him, though.

When she’d seen him for the second time, that faith had become a little firmer, a little more real. It didn’t matter what her mother said to her, she knew, she knew deep down that she would do whatever she wanted with this man. She’d give him anything he asked for, as long as she had it to give.

“Mom, you wouldn’t understand,” Marie explained with quiet certainty. “You only ever took a man to bed because you wanted some material thing from him. You never took a man to bed to feel alive, to feel loved. If I ever go to bed with a man, that will be the only reason I do it. And you can’t stop that. If I choose to sleep with this man, it’s none of your business.”

Marie’s voice shook on the last sentence, but she got it out at least. For once, she’d stood up to her mother, and she felt the heady surprise of triumph as she stared down at her mother grimly. “This won’t last forever, anyway.”

Ruby’s eyes went wide and she settled back down onto her pillows. Her left hand remained on the bed rail, gripped so tight Marie could see her mother’s knuckles through the thin skin on her hands. She tried to say something, to rebuke Marie in some awful way, but she couldn’t force the words out of her throat. That only made Marie’s smile broader.

She felt a twinge of guilt, but pushed that down. It would do her mother some good to think things over, to know that her little punching bag/slave had taken more than enough. “You know, Mom. The reality is, you won’t live forever. You really need to think about that. When you piss the bed to drag me out of the shower, or when you scream in one of your rages in the middle of the night, stop to think… you won’t be alive forever, and maybe, just maybe, you should try to redeem yourself a little before that time comes.”

Ruby’s mouth worked, but it wasn’t paralysis that made her speechless, it was Marie’s words. Marie saw Ruby slide her head away, her eyes pained, and left the room at last. She didn’t know if her words had any effect on her mother, but she hoped they did. Marie would love to have some emotion from her, other than the hate and anger she usually spewed at her daughter. Her memories would be wrapped in those emotions forever if her mother continued on this path, and that might be the saddest thing of all for Marie.

Marie came to terms with the fact that her mother was terminal a long time ago. What she hadn’t considered was what would happen after her mother passed away. Jane had prompted her to see that, and now she wanted her mother to see it too. Ruby wouldn’t be the queen of the bedroom forever.

Marie left her mother’s room and went to her own. It was a plain room and always had been. A twin bed with a white coverlet on top, and white curtains in the room that was little more than a large broom closet. There was one white dresser and nothing more in the room.

Marie kept most of her clothes and shoes in the laundry room, though she didn’t have many. Most of the clothes she did have were bought at a secondhand shop at the other end of the town a few years ago before her mother became bedridden. It was a good thing she hadn’t gained any weight over the last few years. She couldn’t afford ‘new’ clothes, and so she made do with what she had.

With a sigh of resignation, she sprawled out on her bed and stared up at the white ceiling. The walls were cheap pine sheets that had been nailed to the studs behind them. A very basic room, for a very basic girl. Woman, she thought after a moment. She was a grown woman now. And she’d just stood up to her mother for the first time in years.

She’d tried it when puberty hit when she was 12, and her hormones were all out of whack. Her mother had been nagging her about how she shouldn’t become a whore now that she was able to make babies. She’d gone on and on about how she wasn’t going to raise the kid if Marie got pregnant, and that she’d have to leave and marry the father if that happened. If he wasn’t already married.

That had been the part where Ruby crossed a line and Marie had jumped up from the same table in the kitchen that was there now and screamed at her mother, “You’re the whore in this family. You’re the one that fucks married men, Momma, not me!”

Ruby became enraged and dragged Marie to the floor by her hair and slapped her face until her nose began to bleed. “You don’t ever mention those things to me, do you understand little girl? Never, ever backtalk me or try to put me down.”

Each word had been punctuated with another slap and a harder tug at Marie’s hair. She’d given in, so the pain of her hair being ripped from her head would stop. She’d felt really bad about insulting her mother, too, and hadn’t tried it again. Not until today anyway. Today, she’d succeeded at last. Her mother hadn’t been able to hit her this time, and that was one step closer to freedom.

6

The next morning, Ruby was ill. Well, more ill than usual. She was almost delirious when Marie got up. A quick check of her temperature showed that the bedridden woman had a fever. Marie’s gut clenched and she felt shame for her outburst the day before. Her mother was right to be angry; her life had been hard. And Marie had only made that life harder.

She still felt like her mother should be nicer to her, and she still wanted her freedom, but she felt bad about it. The woman was her mother and deserved respect for that at least. Marie smoothed her mother’s short white hair down and felt pity for her. It was something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Jane’s statement had started a chain reaction, but Marie’s actions after the statement were what really counted. She’d been… not nice to her mother.

“I’m sorry I was mean to you yesterday, Momma. I’ll call Jane and see what she thinks we should do.”

Ruby mewled in her sleep and grasped at Marie’s hand tightly. Marie tried to tug her hand away, but Ruby wouldn’t let go. “Je t’aime, Maman.”

Marie froze. Ruby rarely spoke about her mother, other than to say she’d been famous in the late 60s and early 70s. Something had happened, Ruby never did know what, but it drove the starlet back to Louisiana to hide in the swamps. There’d been a lot of money, so they’d had a nice house, and servants, things that Ruby couldn’t afford.

Marie had learned over the years that her mother didn’t want Ruby to go into movies, but Ruby had ignored her warnings. She’d done what she wanted to do and faced the consequences. The woman had been remarkable according to Ruby. She’d spoken English, Cajun French, and Spanish. She’d made movies in Italy, Saudi Arabia, America, and England. By all accounts, she was an intelligent, beautiful woman that had been incredibly talented.

Ruby had been on her way to that kind of stardom when she’d wound up pregnant with some Mafia guy’s baby. It had destroyed her career and her life. It had made her bitter and twisted in ways that Marie still couldn’t understand. Now, as her mother held her hand and whispered to her long-dead mother, Marie felt empathy, more than pity. Her mother had broken all the rules and paid the price for it. Now she was bedridden, unable to escape even the pain that came with her disease.