Daring Delfina's Heart

Sharing Truths

She met her mother’s concerned gaze as the woman stirred her pasta sauce in a giant pot which had been in the restaurant since it opened twenty-five years ago. Some things tasted better when steeped deep in tradition.

A wicked thought of Ruggero’s eyes on her made Delfia wonder if he would follow tradition and be as sick bastard as his grandfather in the sack. A tiny part of her wanted to know. She evaded her mother’s glance as she wondered if he would have the stamina of his older and uglier grandfather. What the hell was wrong with her?

“Are they giving you a hard time?”

“I’m fine, Mom.”

“You’re flushed.”

Because I’m suddenly thinking of Ruggero Rapallino being more rugged than his grandfather. “I can handle it.”

“You’re pregnant, Delfina. Do not overdo it.”

“Mom, if I thought overdoing it would deal with my situation, I’d be working double shifts from sunup to sundown while carrying heavy items everywhere I went.”

“You do not want to lose this child. I know you.”

“You don’t know anything, Mom. I am not the same person who left her years ago. Now, I promised Carol a piece of mousse cake. She wants it to go. She said something about eating it in the privacy of her own home, in her bathtub where nobody can judge her.”

“She is an odd woman. She has five children and the minute each of them turned eighteen she kicked them out of her house and demolished their bedrooms. Told them they were never allowed to move back in. When I told her you were back, she said she would pray for me that you went away again quickly.” Her mother shook her head, “I’d have you with me forever if I could.”

On that traumatic note, Delfina exchanged glances with her cousin who pulled her lips back in horror and left the kitchen. She was twenty-four years old. She did not want to live with her mother forever. No sir. No way. The last two months were reminder enough of why she’d been trying valiantly to make enough cash to move out on her own. Between the constant bible verses being quoted, the interference in her life and the judgement she faced from them, she was ready to live under a bridge with the trolls instead of her parents. How her cousins still stayed there was beyond her, but she suspected it circled around Nek’s gambling three years ago and they were broke.

She collected the five specials off the window ledge and carried them to the table.

“How do you manage?” Ernestina asked mouth agape. “I’d have dropped all five dishes.”

This was the most normal conversation she’d ever engaged in with any of them. “I’ve been working in this diner since I was walking.” She looked at the now empty breadbasket, “do you want more bread to sop up the sauce?”

“Yes.”

Ruggero was the one who answered, and she almost laughed as she realized he’d shoved the last piece of bread in his mouth rather quickly. Movement under the table told her Perla was kicking him.

“It’s so good,” he covered his mouth with his hand.

“Thanks! I made it this morning.”

“You made the bread?” Perla’s eyes flitted to hers in surprise. “No way.”

“Yup. The rolls, the mini loaves and the breadsticks are all my Nonna’s recipe. She left me her cookbook when she passed away when I was a young teenager. We made a lot of zeppole and desserts together.”

“Why didn’t he leave you money?” Olympia interrupted clearly not able to talk to Delfina about anything other than her father.

“We signed an agreement. I left the relationship with what I brought into it.” She found herself wondering if the fetus in her abdomen counted as something extra, she brought out of the relationship. She certainly wasn’t calling the lawyer or the CEO to ask. To hell with that. The memory of the CEO caused a shiver to run down her spine. He was even scarier than Ercole.

“You were with him three years. Surely, he gave you jewelry or cash.”

“No.” She shook her head. “Anything he leant me when we were out, was promptly returned to the safe or the lawyer’s safety deposit boxes the moment we stepped back into his house.”

“His house, not your shared home?”

This time it was Ruggero asking. She looked between the man and his father who was not saying a word and simply shoveling food into his mouth, blowing around the steaming pasta. “Your food is getting cold. I’ll leave you to enjoy your meal.”

Suddenly Eusebio spoke up, “this is better than my mother’s but if any of you tell her I said this, I’ll cut you all out of my will.”

Ernestina gave a loud moan as she took a bite of the pasta. “Holy. You make the noodles in house?”

She nodded. “Enjoy.”

Walking away she found herself being tugged by the guy from high school and she made a polite smile and pulled his hand off hers.

“You’re really chatty with them and they’re strangers. You haven’t even said hi to me. We went to school together.”

“I apologize. I don’t even remember your name.” She was honest. “I think you were a grade or two ahead of me, right?”

“Matty. I was the quarterback.”

“I didn’t watch any sports. I went to school, church and work from grade seven onward.”

“How do you know those people?” he looked over at them as he fluffed the collar of his dress shirt.

“They’re the family of my husband who passed away two months ago. They’re here to say hello.”

“Oh. You really loved the guy, huh?”

“Nope. Hated his guts,” she watched the surprise take over his face and tried not to chortle with glee. She’d really turned into a bitter wretch. “Excuse me Matty but I need to go check on my other customers.”

After thirty minutes she made her way back to the table where the Rapallino family were sitting in front of plates which were clean enough they almost looked licked. She gave a laugh, “good?”

“Who is your chef?”

“My mom and my cousin and they use my grandmother’s recipes with some Americana thrown in. We have a girl who comes in early Sunday mornings for church and works evenings and weekends but mostly it’s Mom. We only do a lunch and supper service so between the three of them they work the shifts. We’re open until eleven because we’re close to the truck stop up the road and some of the truckers come in for dinner,” she caught herself, “and I’m rambling. Dessert?”

“What do you have?”

“Gelato, coconut cream, apple or peach pie, chocolate mousse cake, or if you’re wanting the Italian dessert, there is zeppole or cannoli and I think,” she scrunched her nose, “there may also be a few biscotti left. The tiramisu is sold out.”

“It’s a huge dessert menu.” Perla sighed and rubbed her belly.

“Other than the gelato, all of the dessert can be packed up to go.”

“Trying to get rid of us?” Ruggero eyed her curiously.

“Why would It? You simply represent the most horrific three years of my life but sure, let’s keep dragging it out.”

“You did not deserve my father.”

“You do know how much he disliked you right?” she couldn’t help herself. The dirty looks and the snippy comments from Olympia were finally bubbling over.

“My father loved me.”

“Your father hated your mother so much by default it trickled to you. Specifically, during one of his ever so pleasant rants, he told me how everyone thought you were a preemie but really you were just a small six pounder born two weeks late. Your grandmother forced your father to marry your mother when she baby trapped him. According to him, you didn’t even have the good graces to come out a boy, instead you came out looking like your mother and acting like her double. He said he became a billionaire because he spent so much time away from the house because he hated her to the point the only thing he could do was work. He made vows of fidelity in church, and he wouldn’t break them so he worked and worked and worked and when he couldn’t contain his biological urges, he f****d her with his eyes closed but never came inside her out of fear he’d have another child like you.”

“Enough.” Eusebio spoke in a harsh tone.

“No. The five of you came here for a fishing expedition to find out things which don’t concern you but how about I give you the rundown on what does. I hated Ercole Muraro. He was a cold ruthless bastard who took what he wanted when he wanted with no questions asked but there were three things I have to admit about him. One,” she lifted her finger, “he hated liars. He hated you Eusebio because according to him, you lied to him about your intentions with his daughter. He might not have cared much for her as a person but as his heir, he wanted her to make a good connection. He knew.” Eusebio paled as everyone turned to look at the patriarch. “You told him you were in love with his daughter and wanted to marry her, but he knew. He knew about the girlfriend before Olympia, and how your mother insisted, the other girlfriend was a better match for your older brother because of her wealth and instead told you to secure Olympia because it meant your father’s business dealings with Muraro would also be secured. You went after his daughter not out of love but because your mother told you to for business’s sake. Your father stupidly told Ercole one night while having drinks and he has loathed you ever since for being a liar.” She grimaced, “for the record, he would have sold her to you. All you needed to do was be honest. He didn’t value her all that much.”

“You b***h,” Ruggero hissed angrily as Olympia was gasping for breath.

“Two,” she cut him off. “He was a brilliant businessman. He could see a business opportunity miles ahead and while his mean streak was a mile wide and deep in every direction, he was fair in his legitimate business dealings. I suggest you check his garage office to better understand who your father really was, Olympia. I believe he named his successor as the son of his oldest friend and The CEO is now running his business and also now running the bulk of his other endeavors,” she grimaced, “from what I’ve seen of him, he’s even colder than Ercole.” He was also drop dead gorgeous with a voice which could melt an iceberg in winter, but she needed to steer clear of dangerous men. The devil dancing on her shoulder pointed out Ruggero Rapallino wasn’t dangerous and f*****g with him could be tantamount to getting back at Olympia for all the s**t of the last three years.

“You’re saying he engaged in shady business dealings?” Perla asked hanging on every word coming from Delfina.

“Check the garage. Three, and it kills me to say this but for all the horrible things your father was, he was prideful. He took pride in everything he did from something as simple as getting dressed in the morning to f*****g at night. He wanted to be the very best at everything. In his words, you were only good for taking d**k and putting out intelligent children, but you lacked any real success of your own. He thought you, Olympia, were vain, shallow and insipid and lacked the pride and ego necessary to be anything great in this world and for this he disliked you the most.”