Page 12 of Forgetting the Enemy
She’s sitting under the willow tree off the veranda of the back patio of her family home. Everyone, her family and guests, are all in the house acting as if they didn’t just bury her mother. For the first time since I have known Zaira, she can’t put on the brave face like she has been trained to do. No, today she is sad and missing her mom.
Zaira has always been one who would wander off when she is sad about something, using the solitude to work it out. My heart is breaking for her though, and something compels me to walk toward the willow tree to be with her.
When I approach, I say, “I’m sorry about your mom, Zaira.”
“Thank you, Michael,” she replies solemnly.
“How come you are over here all by yourself?” I ask as I sit next to her. “I hope you don’t mind the company.”
She nods and slides closer on the swing. “All those people, telling me they know how I feel, telling me they are sorry… I just couldn’t take any more.”
“But maybe they really are sorry. Did you ever think about that?” I ask. I nudge her shoulder. “I’m really sorry. You know I always liked your mom, and the last thing I would wish upon you is to be without her. I know how much she meant to you.”
She looks at me and smiles. “You’re not like them, are you? You’ve never been like them.”
“Like whom?” I ask. I have an idea where she is going with this, but I think it best to allow her to explain further. My father taught me to be cautious.
“You’re not like my father or Victor,” she says. “Your father and you, you’re respectful and caring. My father is cold and unfeeling. Personally, Michael, I think he is rejoicing that Mama is gone, and it breaks my heart.” She begins to cry, and I don’t hesitate and pull her into my arms. “I miss her so much, Michael.” She chokes out her words between sobs.
“I know, sweetheart. I know. You just cry. Go ahead and let it out.” I hold her and stroke her hair. “You know you don’t have to be brave for me.”
“I’m getting your shirt all snotty.”
“Now don’t go worrying your pretty little head about my shirt. It can always get cleaned.”
“Hold me, Michael,” she begs.
“I am, love. I am.”
“Forever, will you hold me forever?”
I look down at her, and she looks up at me. Her eyes shine with wet tears, but for the first time, I can see her feelings. She loves me. She loves me as I love her. “Darling, I’ll hold you for forever and a day, but that will still never be enough.”
“Let’s get married, Michael. We can run away and get married, and you can take me away from here. I don’t want to live here without my mother. I can’t!”
“Zaira, we can’t just run away. We can’t be disrespectful to our families. It’s not how we should do things,” I reply.
“I can’t stay here another minute. Michael, you don’t know what they’ll do to me. I’ll lose you!”
“You are not going to lose me. I promise you, love, we’ll get married, but we’ll do it the right way, with a big goombah wedding and all the bells and whistles.”
Defeated, she puts her head down and says, “You’ll see. It will all be over soon.” She is silent for a moment and then says, “Michael, no matter what happens, remember that I love you. You are the best of men, and no matter what happens, know I’ll always see the truth in your eyes. You have the kindest eyes, Michael.”
“Stop worrying. Nothing is going to happen. I love you too, and everything is going to be all right. I promise.”
Just then, we hear a gunshot, and pandemonium erupts from inside the house. “Zaira, run. Run to the clubhouse—you know, the one we used to play in—and stay there. Do not come out until I come and get you, understand?”
She nods, and I take off toward the house, pulling out my gun.
Approaching the veranda, I hear Alberto yelling. He’s yelling at my father? “Domenic Vitali, you killed my wife. I want you and your filthy family out of my house, now!” He fires a shot into the air. Well, that explains the gunshot we heard.
“Alberto, you’re wrong. I would never put a hit on a woman, let alone the wife of a friend.”
“Fuck you, Domenic. You wanted all the power. You always wanted the power. Well, now you’ve crippled me. Get the fuck out of my house, before I shoot you now in front of your wife and children! Better yet, why don’t I just shoot your fucking wife?” He aims his gun at my mother.
Ricco, Jude, Marco, Augie, Benny, and Sainte immediately surround my parents, guns raised, all aimed at Alberto. They will fight to the death for my family. Not one of Alberto’s men shows any type of defense to protect their Don.
“I feel sorry for you, Alberto. You’re accusing an innocent man. Look inside your organization, for there you will find your rat.” My father turns toward me. “Michael, get your brother and sister.” He grabs my mother’s hand and says, “We’re leaving,” and proceeds to the door.
I look back toward the willow tree, but Zaira is not there. When I scan around the veranda, I see her standing off to the side, alone. The look on her face says all I need to see: I told you so. Alex, Gina, and I then leave, followed by our bodyguards, guns still ready in case some crazy asshole decides to shoot us in the back.
