Page 110 of Capo
Thirty-Three
Luciano
“Elena changed my life. We met in Chicago many years ago when I was nothing but a pup who rushed aimlessly through existence. She put me on my path and never let me stray. We began as friends and continued as business partners. When she wanted to move back home to care for her dying mother, I followed. She always had my back; she was always there. I miss her every minute, with every breath I take. She had one of the most brilliant minds I have ever come across, was loved by everyone she met, always had an ear for other’s troubles, and never asked for anything in return. Her passion for the weak, for the beaten and the cast outs was admirable, and she leaves an empty space in this town that will never be filled. I’m proud to have counted her as my friend.”
I stand before the crowd, before the people who honor Elena’s life and who grieve her death. I’m the last one to talk. In front of me sit all the girls from the brothel, none of them looking even remotely seductive or cheap today. There are also a few people who were her friends outside the organization: two men and a woman, that I’ve never seen. Ivan sits next to an inconsolable Carmen who sobs constantly, clutching David’s hand. David squirms, looking uncomfortable in his black suit, tailored for this occasion in the softest possible material, with nothing that itches. He’s got red sneakers on that stand out like a sore thumb in all the black. Getting him into proper shoes was impossible. My eyes fall on Chloe, sitting next to my empty chair in the front, on the other side of David. We tiptoed around the subject for days, but finally she asked if I wanted her here.
She looks somber, her eyes trained on me. There’s an invisible string between us, a pull. It’s more than sex. It’s been more than sex for a long while. The change began that day I found her next to David, sitting on the floor in the hallway. She comforted him. The door was unlocked, she could have run, but she prioritized the scared little child. I refused to acknowledge it for a long while, but inch by inch, disaster by disaster, she has become someone I can’t live without. Won’t. Burying Elena today hammers that fact in with deadly strength. I’ve fought my whole life to never let anyone close, to never love again for fear of losing it, but my experiment has become my own downfall.
I need this woman.
The sky is fittingly overcast and the grass is still wet from the morning rain. As we all stand, the priest says his final words and then the casket is lowered into the ground. I choke down the scream that wants to escape me. It’s not fair. She had so much time left. Should have had.
A cool hand in mine makes me twitch. I look at Chloe and then down at our joined hands, squeezing a silent thank you.
I really fucking need this woman.
When we break up the gathering and move toward the cars parked to the side, I keep seeing the casket before me on repeat, that shovel of dirt thrown upon it, the red roses, the weeping girls. I hate that I can’t just call her, that I can’t show up late at night in her kitchen when I can’t sleep. I hate that she doesn’t exist anymore. I still can’t fathom it.
Chloe stands next to me on the sidewalk, her fragile beauty enhanced by the black skirt and matching suit jacket with its wide collar, her hair in a simple bun at her neck. I put my hand on the backdoor to the car, then I drop my arm. She looks up and frowns.
“Walk with me,” I say. I knock on the window and wait for it to slide open. “Wait for us outside.” I tilt my head toward the exit of the cemetery, then I put a hand in the small of Chloe’s back and pull her with me, away from the open grave, away from the flowers, and the silence of the dead.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“How did you feel when your parents died? You were ten, you have to remember that day as if it was yesterday.”
She looks down, inhales. “Time froze. It was as if the air suddenly got ice cold, and it was in the middle of the summer. We had a babysitter. Mom and Dad had been to the cinema. They had a date night every Wednesday. They got mugged and shot. Dad had tried to defend Mom. He was found lying partly across her body. The one shot had penetrated them both. I went to school the next day. I just couldn’t believe it. I was in such shock. The babysitter stayed the night. Then we went to an emergency foster home for a few weeks before an aunt agreed to take us in, one of Mom’s sisters. The other relatives didn’t live close and had children of their own. They didn’t step up. Neither did this aunt until she was told she’d make some money. I don’t think I mourned properly until years later. I lashed out instead, got reckless, uncaring. My brothers got in with the wrong people. My little sister went missing. It tore us apart. We had no one who fended for us, and it all went to shit. I put the lid on. I think it hurt too much. It was the little things, you know, that kept stabbing me.”
“Like what?”
“Like coming down for breakfast and just getting a sandwich instead of milk and cereal and freshly cut fruit. Like always taking a left turn for the bathroom instead of a right.”
“Because you weren’t living in your house anymore?”
She nods.
“You inherited money at least?”
“Yeah, but dear Auntie managed to use it all up before we turned eighteen and could claim it.”
“Is she still alive?”
“I think so. I haven’t talked to her once since I moved out.”
“Give me her address.”
Chloe twitches. “Eh, no. What are you planning on doing?”
“Have I not told you? No one fucks with what’s mine.”
“What the fuck? Luci. I know you’re messed up right now, with all that’s happened, you’re not thinking straight. Just leave it. It’s in the past. If you go poking, you’d hurt me, can’t you see that? I’ve moved on. I don’t think about her. Ever.”
“You are now.”
“You asked.”
I cock my head in acknowledgement. True. “Very well.”