Three weeks and four days.
Twenty-fucking-five days have passed since we are here, and I feel I'm losing my mind.
I want to go back to NY, I want to go out, I want to spend time with Pepa, I want to get drunk and have a fuck.
Okay, maybe not just any fuck, I want the fuck. I want Enzo.
I miss him so much that it hurts. I'm irritated and pissed almost all the time because I feel like pouring my eyes out and crying morning, noon, and evening. And at night!
I can't even do it to myself, releasing the tension, and damn... it feels like my hormones are all over.
It is literally impossible to do anything having all the family around, all the eyes on me, at all times, like I'm a fucking oil pipeline.
I want back to NY, back to my apartment. I can't handle all this attention around me anymore. It's suffocating. I need to be left alone and lick my wounds.
I want to be alone.
Nights are so white, one after another. I can't close my eyes to take at least a nap and on the second day, I look like a zombie, so much that mom has worried and she keeps nagging me for the past days to see a doctor, but I keep telling her an afternoon nap will do the job.
And I swear I have been trying to nap for the past hour, but this afternoon sleep doesn't seem to be on my side, so decide to get downstairs, thinking I might as well cook something for dinner, to pass the time... since I can't get drunk... or have a fuck.
The house is unusually quiet at this hour but passing by dad's office I see the door cracked and light is coming out in a thin beam, cut by shadows walking up and down.
Reaching the middle of the living room, I see mom on the patio outside on one of the two-seat sofas and grandma hugging and rocking her body lightly.
Aunt Tea comes out from my dad's office, and we meet face to face. Her eyes are dark, but she tries a smile when she sees me.
There is tension around. So much tension, thick that you can cut it with a knife, and it stabs a cold shiver in my chest.
"Aunt Tea, what's going? Where is everybody?" I ask her leisurely, but unable to ignore the very strange vibe all around.
"We're here. We're fine," she replies, and fuck, she really radiates anger.
"Who is not fine, then?" I ask her back and she looks so determined not to talk that it feels like one needs to pay for her words.
Dad comes out from his office followed by grandpa and uncle Mike. They are wearing their gun holders around their shoulders and their faces are hard like stone.
"Is someone going to tell me what the fuck is going on?" I shout at them, and my limbs start shaking.
"Language, pumpkin!" my father growls without spearing me a look, and then I know that somewhere, somehow, the shit has hit the fan.
"Come, Eve," my grandpa says, and wraps an arm around me, taking me out to the kitchen where it seems we can be alone.
I walk beside him, and my legs feel like water. My knees buckle, and I'm grateful for his strong arms supporting me.
If we're fine, then it must be Enzo. By the dark look in grandpa's eyes and his clenched jaws, it must be terrible.
He turns me around with my back toward the living room forcing me to face him and holding my upper arms in an iron grip as if he's expecting me to collapse, his fingers digging holes into my flesh and his eyes piercing into mine. His coal-black eyeballs stare makes me freeze, a stare that looks so much like Enzo's.
"Princess, I need you to be the strong woman I know you are, and I know you like to be. I trust you, princess," he says, and I can see in his eyes that he needs me to be strong rather for him than for myself.
"Where is Enzo?" I ask with a fainted breath, and I just wished he would fucking speak already. I'm not made of glass, I'm not a doll!
"Mike, your dad and I are traveling to Italy today. There has been a raid over Enzo's estate in Napoli, and we need to get there fast. Jason will come over and together with Tea they'll secure you here."
"I want to come," I cut him off bluntly, trying to pull myself from his grip with a confidence that could freeze the hell.
"Eveline..." he scowls me back, his eyes becoming even darker.
"Oh, enough already, Grandpa! I've been mastering a gun since I was sixteen, better than dad, and you know that. I'm letting myself be pampered all the time because I love you, guys and I know it comforts you. But I'm very much capable to take care of myself. And I want to come!"
"You're not coming anywhere!" my father bellows from the entrance.
"Dad..."
"No, Eveline! Stop being a brat and delay us. Your mom and grandma need you here. So here you'll stay. And if you as much as fucking open your mouth to give me hard times with this I'm going to ask Jason to tie you up and feed you like babies if it's necessary," he shouts back at me.
"Dad!"
"Your choice, pumpkin," he threatens me, raising a menacing finger at me.
His hard look and cutting icy blue of his eyes tell me he's not kidding.
"I can't believe you're such a selfish bastard," I say, for the first time in my life, talking back at dad in such a manner.
I leave the kitchen, brushing myself hard on his left arm, and run for my room before tears start choking me and I crash.
I'm angry on enormous levels. I feel a bubble of rage building up in me while tears roll down my face.
I slam the door shut with a bang and hit the perfume collection standing on my table, the pieces flying straight into the walls.
"Fuck!" I release my anger with a cry that has sprung from the pit of my lungs.
Well, seems I'm my father's daughter as well, and growing up with an aunt being a hit-woman can only build a hard-headed stubborn brat like myself.
I run to my walk-in closet and take a traveling bag, sobbing and wiping my tears with the back of my hands in angry moves, rushing myself to pack in no longer than a few seconds.
I need to get out of here. I need to leave, I feel trapped like locked in a cage and I fucking need to know about Enzo.
I shove some stuff in my bag, which I don't even know what they are. I hear the door opening, but I don't turn around.
They are here to pamper me again, whoever the fuck it is. They'll always do that, I'll always be a doll moved around by their own will and trapped from one place to another, for my safety.
Well, I'm sick of their safety and I'm sick of this shit and I'm sick of Enzo treating me just the same.
"Pumpkin, what are you doing?" dad is asking from the doorframe of my room.
"Packing. I'm going back to NY," I spit without gracing him with a look.
"You are not going anywhere, pumpkin. You're staying here, with your mom and your grandma. You know I wished I would never need to go..." he says with a soft voice, unlike his heavy breaths.
"Then don't fucking go!" I rasp back at him.
I hear him sighing deeply, making me slow down the speed of my packing, and he walks closer to me, grabbing my busy hands and turning me around to face him.
He is hurt, I can see that in the frown of his eyebrows, shadowing his blue eyes, almost tearing.
I know he never lets feelings overwhelm him unless it's me or mom, and that look on his face melts me, like each and every damn time.
"Why do I have the feeling that you would rather want to come with us than me staying here?" he says, cupping my cheeks in his hands and glaring at me deeply.
'Because I want Enzo,' I want to tell him, but I sigh instead and crash in tears and attempt to cuddle to his chest, but he holds my head steady, keeping his stare on me.
"Eve, as much as I know you can handle very well what's going on in Italy but I want you to stay here, where you're safe. I want you to be safe always, to grow up a beautiful woman. I want you to live, get married, and have wonderful kids as you have been."
"Dad..."
"I have responsibilities, Eve, as a father and a husband, and one of the most important ones is you. Don't fight me on this, pumpkin. Your mom needs you here, as well," he speaks and kisses softly my forehead.
Oh, how much I hate when he's right!
I hate him to be like this, to be this gallant, stoic man and responsible man. I hate when he takes all the risks so we can be safe.
And I hate Enzo for taking the matters into his hands all alone. I hate him for refusing dad to go with him from the very beginning and sending grandpa back when he has known the danger is still lingering around him.
And I'm proud of them both, the reigning men of my life, and I love them both beyond my powers.
I wrap my arms around dad's shoulders and hug him tightly, feeling his muscles loosen under my squeeze and his wide torso curling around me. He sighs softly.
"Oh, pumpkin. You and your mom are the joy of my life. I love you, sweetheart," he says, and then other arms wrap around both of us, and mom kisses my temple and glues her face to dad's thick arm.
He pulls both of us in his hug, one on each of his sides, and peppers several kisses on our heads, shifting from one to the other.
"Now, I need my girls to be brave and patient. And wait for us here. Do I have your word for that?" he says, with a beaming smile and joy in his eyes having both of us in his arms, and questioning with his stare, mostly me.
We nod, chocked in tears, trying to stop them from falling and showing ourselves brave for him.
Uncle Mike shows in, one arm wrapped around the waist of a sobbing aunt Tea, but composed and standing up straight.
Shit, my room became a sobbing reception room.
"Lucas, we need to go," uncle Mike says, and dad untangles himself away from us.
He kisses me and mom one more time and takes the suit jacket brought by my uncle.
He looks back at us one more time and then disappears from my room, bringing me back flashes of Enzo's departure.
A cold shiver crosses my back, and my knees buckle under the weight of my body and the weight of my pain.
I fall limp, sitting on my bed, staring at the closed door and hoping that by some magic I'm able to hibernate till they're all back home.
Mom is still sobbing but standing stoic and staring in the same direction as I do.
I don't remember if they have ever been separated in their lives, I'm sure she's crushed beyond imagination, and still, she stands tall and proud.
"Mamma... let's have a drink," I tell her, standing up and wiping my tears away, so confident that this is what we must do, is actually the only thing to do.
We don't have any other option but stay put, stay strong and wait.
Four women.
Four broken hearts, drunk and laughing till the walls are shaking are now going out on the patio for a pool party.
Grandma is the master of our cocktails, and I've cooked pasta for everybody. It's amazing how cooking can relax me so much and make the time pass.
We've been eating and drinking and speaking about all silly stupid things that have crossed our minds as if we're feeding a huge, hungry beast that we're afraid of and trying to keep it from hurting us, with death threatening the ones we love.
Mom's wearing the new swimming suit that dad has bought for her when taking her out yesterday.
God, she looks gorgeous with her long legs and curvy hips, round perky breasts, and stretched flawless skin on her worked muscles. She could easily pass any day as my elder sister.
Grandma decides just to join us for the talk. She's the least tipsy. Of course, we need a grown-up person with us being in the state we are in right now.
Aunt Tea is another story. Very tall and skinny but holding some tone muscles on her long bones, showing years of fitness looks all serious and cold, but the sparkling in her eyes says she's not far from us.
And I, wearing my panties and a long top, feeling not too gorgeous to put on something suitable for the pool party but still eager to dive myself into the huge bowl of water and sink to the bottom where water would invade my ears and mix with my tears that got stubborn to spring out of my eyes every minute silence engulfs us.
I sit on the edge of the pool and look around at the faces of each one of us and I can't stop wondering which one of us will be lucky enough to melt herself first in the arms of the man she loves when all of this fucking shit is over.
But hey, we are the proud women of the fucking Mafia. A curse we can never break.
*****
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