Dad's Capos Swore to Guard Me, So I Made Them Break Every Oath novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: Nine Nights
At her father's burial supper her cousin orders her out of her own house and the three capos home, and Valentina answers in front of eighty relatives, then asks the oldest of the three to unzip her dress.
Nunzio tapped his glass with a fork, and eighty people stopped eating my mother's pastelitos.
I stood at the dining table with a plate in my hand.
My father had been in the ground for four hours.
"Family," Nunzio said. "A few words before we pray."
He was my father's cousin, sixty-three years old, with silver hair and a ring on his little finger.
He had not touched me once at the cemetery.
"Valentina is coming home with me tonight," he said. "A girl alone in this house is not safe."
Nobody argued.
"And these three go back to their routes in the morning."
He pointed his glass at the patio door.
My father's three capos stood there in black suits, with their backs to the glass and their hands folded.
They said nothing.
The oldest was Dom Barrese, my father's underboss, who had taught me to play dominoes at the club.
Rafa Zayas stood beside him with his big hands shoved in his pockets and his gold crucifix lying on his tie.
Quino Barrero, the youngest, who had driven me to school and to my mother's funeral, was looking at the floor.
I knew why they were silent.
On my father's last night, in his hospital room, he had said it out loud to all of us.
"Nine nights," he had said. "One of them in her house. Swear it."
All three had sworn, with Nunzio standing at the foot of the bed.
Not one of them would break a promise in front of Nunzio, and Nunzio knew it.
"You heard him, Nunzio," I said. "You were in the room."
"A dying man says many things, Valentina."
"He said that one twice."
Eighty relatives were watching me.
The old women had stopped passing the croquetas, and my aunts had their hands over their mouths.
I put my plate down on my mother's good tablecloth.
I walked through the dining room, and the crowd opened in front of me.
At the patio door I stopped between Dom and Rafa.
My shoulder touched Dom's arm, and I felt him go still.
Quino smelled of cedar and cigar smoke, and I did not look at him, because I was afraid of what he would see.
Then I turned around and faced the room.
"My father's novena puts three men in my house for nine nights," I said.
My voice carried to the kitchen.
"All three. They will sleep upstairs, where I say."
I looked at Nunzio.
"Anyone who wants to carry me out of my own house can try it now."
Nobody moved.
Nunzio's driver stood by the front door, a young man with his hands crossed in front of him.
He looked at Nunzio, and Nunzio looked at the three men behind me.
None of them stepped forward, and none of them stepped back.
Nunzio set his glass on the sideboard.
"We will say the Rosary," he said, and his smile was thin. "Then we will see."
The old women said the Rosary at nine in the front room, with my mother's beads going from hand to hand.
I knelt on the cold marble and heard Rafa's knee crack beside me.
By eleven the last cousin had kissed me and gone, and the caterers had stacked the chairs.
At midnight the house was empty and smelled of lilies and coffee.
Dom locked the front door.
He turned the deadbolt, and then he put the chain on.
He was fifty-two, tall and gray at the temples, and he did everything slowly and exactly, even this.
Rafa dropped onto the arm of the sofa and poured himself a rum.
Quino took the chair that faced the door, as always, and sat with his glass on his knee.
"Valentina," Dom said.
He turned his wedding ring once with his thumb.
"Your father made us swear on his bed not to touch you."
Rafa laughed, one short helpless sound, and rubbed his face.
"That's the whole oath," Rafa said. "Nine nights, and keep your hands in your pockets."
"Yes," Dom said.
I looked at the three of them.
For nine years they had stood behind my father's chair, and not one of them had ever looked at me for longer than a greeting.
I was twenty-seven.
I had buried my mother, and now my father, and I had just told eighty people what would happen in my house.
"In this house I give the orders," I said. "That is the first rule."
"Yes, ma'am," Rafa said, still half laughing.
"My father is in the ground."
I walked up to Dom until my face was a foot from his.
"Touch me."
Rafa's laugh stopped.
Quino set his glass down on the table without a sound.
Dom did not move, and his ring turned once more under his thumb.
I turned my back to him and lifted my hair off my neck.
"Unzip it," I said.
Dom did.
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