Episode 15

Gabriel

I need a boyfriend.

As we await the door's opening, that's the sole thought encompassing my mind.

Sophia glanced at me, eyes alight with fervor, then voiced that need. I need a boyfriend.

To me, it seems Sophia's true necessity is a good lay, and with haste. Gazing at her form clad in the diminutive dress, I grasp that I, too, crave a robust tumble. It's been an eon since I've been intimate with a woman.

Work's been grueling of late, but worth every damn second.

Texas is nearly within our grasp.

The door swings open, revealing Dante with a grin.

"Come in, come in. Dinner will be ready shortly."

Behind Dante emerges a slight woman, stooped, with gray hair, almost milky eyes, and I can't help but smile. Maria remains the same as when I first met her, over twenty years ago.

Maria sidles past my comrade and thumps the back of his neck. "It would've been ready had you assisted." She eyes Sophia and Mia. "At last, I am introduced to your daughter, Gabo."

"Gabo?" queries Sophia.

"Hush," I warn.

She smirks mockingly before handing the child over to my friend's grandmother, with outstretched arms.

"Let me look at you, bambina," she says. "You have your father's eyes, precious Mia. Congratulations, Gabo, your daughter is beautiful indeed."

I nod. The little one grows lovelier by the day, that's indisputable. Sophia's done a stellar job.

Another reason I cannot bed her. A nanny like her would be impossible to find again.

"Come in," Maria calls before entering with Mia in her arms, who starts to grow restless, prompting Sophia to rush to her side to soothe her.

I glance at my friend, wanting to probe about his deal with the Sinaloa Cartel's leader, but I can't as he's quite preoccupied devouring the nanny with his filthy gaze.

"Stop it," I hiss.

"Silence and let me enjoy the view," he retorts, his eyes not straying from Sophia's legs.

"I told you to stop."

"In my house, no one gives orders," he shoots back.

"Enough, both of you!" Maria scolds us. "You're still just boys," she tells Sophia, eliciting laughter.

We both fall silent. We may be Capos, but no one disobeys Maria and tells the tale.

We step into the enormous kitchen, the heart of this house. As always, everything smells divine—my friend's nonna is a superb cook.

"No!" exclaims Sophia. "Mia can eat nothing but her formula."

"Nonsense," says Maria, giving a slice of watermelon to Mia, who takes it to her mouth promptly.

"The pediatrician..."

"I've raised five kids and fifteen grandkids. No doctor will teach me child rearing."

Sophia relaxes, smiling as she sees Mia savoring the watermelon.

"Help yourselves," Maria gestures towards a spread of antipasto platters.

"Everything looks delicious," praises Sophia before diving into the cheese platter.

I approach the table and pick some prosciutto, feeling something wet on my hand. Mia is offering me her watermelon slice, her face smeared.

I shake my head, offering her a piece of cantaloupe instead, which she brings to her mouth with startling speed.

"Has she teeth yet?" I ask Sophia, whose mouth, like Mia's, is full.

She rushes to swallow before replying, "Nope, but her gums are as hard as stone."

"They'll come in soon," Maria declares. "And you, Dante, when will you grant me a grandchild?"

Dante chokes on an olive, and I revel in his discomfort.

"I'm working on it," he replies.

"Not quickly enough for my liking. Dear, what's your name?" she asks Sophia.

"Sophia."

She nods. "Lovely name. How old are you, darling?"

"Twenty."

"Twenty?" I interject. "Thought you were nineteen."

"I had a birthday last week," she mentions as casually as if she were discussing yesterday's weather.

"Don't you celebrate?" Dante inquires.

"No," she answers curtly.

"Then we'll celebrate tonight," declares Dante. "I'll fetch some moscato for the occasion."

"A fine idea," Maria claps in approval.

"Oh, my sweet girl, turning twenty is such a special milestone for a young lady. I imagine you are already betrothed."

"No, I'm not."

Maria frowns. "You're of marrying age," she insists.

Sophia laughs. "I'm not keen on marriage yet, though I am interested in meeting someone."

"You're perfect for my Dante, love," Maria remarks, taking Sophia's hands. "You're very pretty. You two would have beautiful bambinos."

Sophia starts to cough. "Children? Not in my immediate plans."

"Nonsense, every woman your age wants marriage and kids."

"Nona, stop pestering Sophia," Dante interjects. "Times have changed; women don't dream only of marriage."

"Nevertheless, you should ask her out. She's quite pale; a bit of sun would do her good."

"No," I declare, drawing all eyes, Mia's included, to me. "I don't want my nanny going out with my business partner."

"Nonsense," says Maria.

"No," I assert. "Sophia is privy to vital information about my home and family. And you, my friend, aren't exactly known for keeping secrets."

"Bedroom secrets are sacred to me," he retorts with poorly veiled mirth.

Cursed Dante.

Maria smacks us. "Blasphemy. A woman shouldn't have bedroom secrets with anyone but her husband. Sophia knows to remain chaste until marriage."

Sophia's face flushes. "I'm not Catholic," she murmurs.

"Nonsense. You're Italian, certainly you're Catholic," Maria maintains while serving us plates of freshly made pasta. "And a Catholic woman must save herself for marriage."

Sophia rolls her eyes when Maria isn't looking, eliciting chuckles from Dante and myself.

Suddenly, Maria strikes us with a wooden spoon.

Mia begins whimpering, reaching out to me.

"Sophia, the baby wants to be held," I say.

"Take your daughter, Gabo. Sophia's busy eating," commands Maria, causing laughter from Sophia and Dante.

I look at my daughter, who's now pouting and reaching for me.

I shouldn't have accepted this invitation.

I pick up my daughter, and instantly she's drooling on my neck before gnawing on my chin with her gums. True, her gums are tough as Sofi claimed.

"No," I command, pulling away.

Her response is a raspberry that echoes throughout the room.

"What... what was that?" I ask, then catch the scent.

"She needs a diaper change," responds Sophia, approaching. "We haven't quite mastered table manners yet, have we, sweetheart?" she says to Mia.