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“What? Here? Don’t tell me
you spent three years at university to become a butcher,” Palmero laughed.
“No, not a butcher.”
“Well, then what?”
Palmero’s laughter stopped as soon as Sophia raised an eyebrow. Surely she
didn’t mean what he thought she did. How could she know? He had kept it hidden
from his kids since they were born. “Come on, Sophia, what do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean,
Dad.”
“I’m sure I don’t.”
“Come on, Dad. Do you think
I’m some kind of idiot?”
“Of course not, princess, but
I really don’t know …”
“Of course you do. You really
think I believe you make as much money as you do by owning a butcher shop? Get
serious. I’ve known for years, Dad; I’m not naïve.”
There was silence between them
as Palmero searched for words that he’d never prepared. Sure, there were some
inconsistencies in their lifestyle to suggest that he was more than he made out
to be, but it never mattered, because why would the kids complain. They had
everything they ever wanted. Why question it? His brain worked overtime as he
looked for something to say to placate her.
“Sweetie, we do good because
the business does good. And the rest, you know, your mother is good with
investing and …”
“Dad, stop it. I know you’re
in the Mafia, so just give it a break.”
Again, silence. Palmero studied
her face. As far as he could tell, she wasn’t bluffing. She did know; she
didn’t need him to tell her straight. She never did.
“Okay,” he took a long puff
on his cigar, “so now what?”
“So now, I’m asking you for
a job.”
Palmero laughed. “You’ve got
to be joking. Knowing is one thing, joining is another. It’s not some, I
don’t know, online chat thing you just sign up for …”
“I realize that, Dad.”
“Good. So then you know that
the answer is no.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why? If you
know so damn much already, you should probably know why.”
“Because I’m a woman?”
“You’re a girl, Sophia. And not only that, you are my little girl. It’s part of my job to keep protected from
this.”
“And what about Michael, your
little boy, are you going to keep him
protected from this?”
“For now, yes.”
“For now.” Sophia leaned
back in her chair and crossed her legs.
“Yeah.”
“Dad,” Sophia sighed,
“Don’t you see the opportunity staring you right in the face? Think about
what this offers you. Firstly,” she began counting off on her fingers, “you
get one of your own heirs into the business sooner than expected. You don’t
have to wait for Michael to grow up, or take the chance that he may want nothing
to do with it. Secondly, you get to start a whole new revolution. Think of it,
women in the Mafia. You’ll be a pioneer …”
“A dead pioneer.”
Palmero’s face was stone.
“I know there are female Mafia
in Italy, when they need numbers, when male blood lines run out, when they need
cover. I’ve …”
“You’ve what? Read about it,
looked it up on the internet? Come on!”
“Never mind how I’ve found
out. But think about it, they can hardly kill you for it in this country if
they’ve done it in the Old Country, can they?”
“Well then, that wouldn’t
make me a pioneer, would it?”
“Here it would, in your Family
it would.”
“It’s not going to
happen.”
“You’ve got to think about
it at least. Think of the advantages …”
“Of what, putting you in the
front line? No, I said it’s never gonna happen and that’s final, Sophia. I
can’t believe you would come to me with this ridiculous …”
“In situations where you need
to get info on someone, I’d be perfect; they’d never look for a woman, not
to mention you’ll have a new perspective on things, new ideas on doing things.
I can offer ideas and suggestions you guys would never think of, maybe make
things better …”
“Or worse. Listen,” Palmero
stood and walked around the desk to her, “It’s bad enough you knowing,
it’s a whole other thing for you to be in on it.” She regarded him with the
same expression she used to use when she was eight and wasn’t getting her own
way. The worse thing about that expression, Palmero knew, was that she usually
won out in the end. She couldn’t this time. This wasn’t a bike or a doll
they were talking about, it was her life. “I’m sorry. I would thank you for
the offer if it wasn’t so crazy …”
“If I was male, you mean,”
Sophia shot back. Palmero shrugged. What could he say? As he walked around the
desk back to his chair, he heard her say softly, “I’ll tell Mum.”
“What?”
“I’ll tell Mum, I said.”
“And what use would that be to
you? She knows,” Palmero smiled as he sat down again. “How do you think she
affords to keep getting those nails of hers done?”
“Not about what you do, about
the other things you do.”
Palmero was intrigued. “Like
what?”
“Come on, Dad. I used to hear
you two arguing years ago, and I’m willing to bet it’s no different now.
It’s part of the lifestyle, isn’t it?”
“What are you talking
about?”
“Women, Dad,” Sophia smiled.
“Ah, jesus …”
“You realize it’s not like
the old days anymore, Dad,” Sophia stood and began striding around the room
with the graceful air of a woman who knows she’s about to win, “Mum can
divorce you, take everything you’ve got. Not half, you understand, everything,
if she can prove you were unfaithful. Especially if you were unfaithful a number
of times. And I doubt being in the Mafia and being expected to take on
mistresses is going to be much of a defense; it’s not like you could bring
that up in Family Court,” she smiled.
Palmero stared at her, and knew
it was right. How would she prove it? She probably couldn’t, but he was amazed
at the gall she had to bring it up. Perhaps it was in her blood. He couldn’t
help but smile. He erased it and looked stern when she turned back to him.
“Are you blackmailing me?”
“Yes.”
“Your own father?”
“Yes.”
“You really want to do this,
don’t you?”
“I have thought about it, Dad.
This isn’t just a whim, you know. I’ve known for years, I’ve been thinking
about it for years. I’m not stupid, and I can offer you something no one else
around you right now can. And I know something else too.”
“What?”
“You need me.”
© Cynthia M. Piromalli
©2003 StoriesByEmail.com
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