“Even when we had a chance, always seemed like other people were around and there was always some crisis happening.  I’m not sure we’ve ever really been in a room alone together now that I think about it.”  Tara shrugged pouring a second cup of coffee.

Cerise accepted the cup of coffee. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry to come out here so early.  I thought about talking with you later today but the kids will all be up and about, I wasn’t sure how you’d react to the topics of discussion and I didn’t want to make it any more difficult than I already know it is.  I guess before I say anything else, I need to be very clear - I am profoundly grateful to you Cerise.  For saving my siblings in New York, for caring for them in Port Huron and for the balm you’ve been to Gavin’s heart.”

“They’re my family. You don’t need to thank me- but if we’re thanking each other, I don’t think Gavin and I could do it with you, Ori, and Brigitte. I’m not just talking about the financial support either.”

Tara nodded, “Obviously that’s true but you came home with us as much an adult as any woman could be and I know that at any point you might have just decided to leave.  You could have started a life on your own and been understandably within your rights to do so.  I mean, as much as my mother immediately claimed you - not everyone loves like she does… did.”  Tara looked down into her coffee.  “It’s a rare gift she inherited from my Grandfather, to be able to make a decision and just… make it her truth.  Not everyone can even understand it, I wouldn’t have ever held it against you if you had chosen another road.  An easier one.”

“I never could have left. Even if I wanted to- and I didn’t,” she insisted. “I owe this family, both the living and the dead. Azure and Indigo didn’t jump off a train and pick a fight with two dozen guys so I could party in Vegas or New Orleans.”

Tara hadn’t considered things in those terms before.  She certainly thought about the sacrifice the girls made but she hadn’t considered how that decision had impacted Cerise.  Was it wrong of her not to have thought of that?  Had she really attributed so much of Ori’s issues to the girls?  Perhaps they had not been with Francesco so long, or had other issues, or had found other ways to deal with their problems.  In any case, Tara had to admit here in this moment, that she might have been wrong to think of them as all being quite the same.  They were individuals and so were worth seeing and understanding as such.  Not a collective hive mind.

“I hope I haven’t offended you.  I just… you’re a good person.  I can see that.  Gavin couldn’t care so much about you if you weren’t.  He’s one of the best judges of character I’ve ever met.  He might not have book smarts but he’s savvy about people, like our Dad.”

“Thanks for saying that. I’m… trying to be good. Focus on the kids. Sometimes I’m in the supermarket and someone’s pissing me off and my training is telling me ‘you could kill this bitch with a piece of celery right now’... but yea. I’m trying. Trying hard,” said Cerise.

Tara smiled at the image of Cerise trying to kill someone with celery and wondered if Oriana ever had such thoughts.

Cerise leaned forward on her arms and Tara saw the tiredness in her eyes. She was a beautiful young woman, elfish and slender with straight, blonde hair. She wasn’t that much younger than Tara, but she’d earned her title as a mother.  Tara reached her hand down absently and pushed the small book in her pocket further down. In that moment, looking into Cerise’s eyes, she realized the depth of her error.

She picked up her coffee and took another drink and then took a deep breath of morning air.  “I should have let you sleep in. You two can get a few more hours of shut eye. Oriana and I have the kids.  No worries. I don’t think you’ll get a lot of chances to do this back in Michigan.”

“I was going to run, actually. This stretch here is the only time for myself, usually. But maybe we’ll take you up on that sleeping in, tomorrow. I’ll check with Gav.”

Tara smiled.  “I usually run in the mornings too.  Nice time of day. Well, no matter what you decide, just let me know.  We’re not going anywhere and you don’t have to rush back. I mean, if you want to stay longer than the weekend, you’re all welcome.  Obviously.”

“Yeah… we’ll see. I think it’s good for us to be here. I… you probably want to talk to Oriana. Sage has been having nightmares recently about… what happened in Sicily. Before we met you.”

“I wondered how you both were coping.  There’s not a polite way to ask about such things and from what I can tell Francesco handled all the-”

“Not Francesco. Ori.”

The look on Tara’s face was as stunned as if she’d been slapped, but quickly she recovered and nodded, listening.  Realizing it made sense that a child so young would be traumatized by what she’d seen in the mountains of Sicily on that dark day.

“When she killed our other three ‘sisters’. Sage was younger than all the girls, obviously. She had nightmares right after it, but Azure and Indigo and I would just sort of pile in bed with her and she’d fall asleep.”

“I imagine it’s hard for her to talk about with the other kids, being that their experience with Oriana is quite different than hers.”

“Yeah. She talks to me. I guess she talked to Ori. But it’s hard for her to talk to the trio about. Malcolm… idolizes Oriana. He wants to be like her, I think. Izzy likes her fashion sense. Jack likes her too. It’s just hard, because they all like her, so it’s hard for Sage to just… talk about that side of her.” Cerise sipped her coffee, thoughtful. “If I’m being honest… my best guess is that maybe this is happening now because Sage is around the same age as the other girls when they… died..” 

“Mal still hasn’t figured it out yet.”  Tara said quietly, her face grim and thoughtful.  Tara sighed with resignation, “I’ll have to talk to him eventually.  Soon.  Maybe before you go back.  Damn.  I had just thought … nevermind it doesn’t matter.  The kiddo has had a real shit hand dealt to him in life.  It’s not fair what he’s been through.  It’s fair what so many of you all have gone through.”  Tara finished her coffee.  “I’ll talk to Oriana about Sage.  I’m sure this is something that time will help heal, but … and maybe this is weird of me to suggest, but I did some looking into this when I came back from Italy.  For Oriana’s sake.  There are … doctors.  Professionals that maybe Sage could talk to?  I don’t know.  Maybe it would be helpful to her.  I don’t think Oriana would ever agree to see one, but Sage is younger and more open to talking and emotional connections.  It might be healthy for her?”

“I think that might be a good idea. And I dunno, you could always ask Ori. She keeps surprising me. Everything about your entire life with her surprises me, so you might as well take a shot at the therapy thing if you think it would help. You’d have to really pick the person carefully.”

“Well, God knows we finally have the money to do some shopping around now.  I’ll see if I can find someone… for Sage at least.  Maybe someone for Oriana too.  I just, don’t want her to think that my suggesting it means I think less of her.  Especially after recent events in South America.”

“For my two cents, Oriana already has a therapist,.” Cerise said as she raised her coffee mug to Tara. “And I can suggest it to Ori, if you want. Tell her that I did it and it helped me.”

Tara started to say something and then closed her mouth.  Then she began again, “Openness and honesty are the cornerstones of a good relationship, even when it hurts to speak the words - sometimes it’s like bleeding out poison.  You need the pain to heal?  If that makes sense?”

Cerise nodded. 

“I’ve been ignoring what happened in South America.  That’s not a lie exactly but it isn’t openness.  I haven’t told how it made me feel or … that I know she needs more help than I can give her.  I don’t want to admit that to her.  I know how it sounds, but it’s not about her, it’s about what I know I’m not capable of.  I wish my love could fix her but that sort of thing only happens in fairytales… or the very, very, rare cases in this world and I’m not one of those people I think.”

“Tara, your love has already changed her. It’s not some magical thing, but it’s made a difference.”

Tara shook her head slowly, “You can’t know what happened in South America… she’s not changed, it’s just… locked away.  I see that now. Some things aren’t tameable. And I haven’t wanted her to be, I think. But it’s not healthy for her. If something were to happen to me… she’d have no one.  I can’t let that happen, Cerise. She needs help. I should talk to her about talking to someone.”

“Okay. Maybe we’ll visit more often. Have you guys out for Christmas this year and have you stay a little longer.”

“I’d like that.  We’ve been talking about coming for the holidays and really she does need to build up a stronger bond with someone other than me… this life I’ve chosen, it’s not one that is known for happy endings.”

“Says the madam,” smirked Cerise. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist. I never get to make those kinds of jokes, now...”

Tara smirked.   “No. It’s true.  God help me. And don’t worry, you won’t have a house full of kids forever.  A lot of years though. Victoria is so young still.” Tara’s gaze got distant as she thought of her sister again.

Cerise finished her coffee and stretched, eerily similar to the way Oriana did. “Vic is my favorite person.” She paused. “What were you going to say about Malcolm earlier?”

“Don’t repeat it, but I … I think his fixation on training and Oriana is a mix of his desire to feel like he’s more powerful.  That he can protect himself and his family - but also… I think maybe he has a bit of a crush on Oriana.” Tara smiled. “I don’t blame him, really, but I assumed part of the reason he wants to train with her over even you is more of a… well, young man - beautiful woman thing.”

“Okay, a few things there,” said Cerise. “ I’ll handle them in reverse order. First off… I’ve lost my edge, Tara. Something had to go in my new life. I still have my training to fall back on, and I’m still a pretty good shot with a pistol, but I’m a far cry from what I used to be. And even back then... I was with the program for a couple years- not a decade like Ori. I trained Malcolm, but he’s already moved past me, Tara. He’s good. Scary good. And it’s all he does. Fighting, shooting, reading strategy, tactics… he’s been getting ready for something since the day I met him. And it makes sense for him to… fixate on Ori. Who’s the only person you know who’s had a shittier hand dealt to them than Malcolm?  Okay, maybe not the only one, but you get my point. Ori has dealt with as much shit as anyone, and on the outside, she’s just… waltzed through it, beautiful and deadly. I think he wants that.”

She sighed.

“And… he’s a teenage boy. I don’t think he sees me as his mother, but I’m still too maternal, or at least big sister. And Izzy and Sage… he’s grown up with them, they’re siblings. But anything else walking about with tits these days within a mile of Jack and Malcolm gets attention.”

“Angie will always be his mother, just as my mom will always be mom to Jack and Izzy.”  Tara didn’t name Victoria, of course.  The distinct lack of that name held a weight.  “I don’t blame you for that.  You can’t be expected to replace people who were so loved and so much a part of their lives.  That you’re there for them now, that’s what matters and I know you’ll always be dear to them for it.”

Cerise nodded, then sighed. “I lied a minute ago and I feel guilty about it. He definitely has a crush on Oriana. It’s like… your big brother’s hot friend sort of thing. Or sister, in this case.”

“You don’t need to feel bad.  As the maternal figure for that boy, I can’t imagine that it feels good telling a mobster that the boy you care for is fixated on her girlfriend.”  Tara chuckled, “Even if I am family.”

“I don’t… I don’t think he’s in love with her or anything. I just think it’s some desire, mixed with the stuff we talked about before.”

Tara shrugged, “Even if was, it wouldn’t matter.  Not really.  Oriana and I … I don’t think I need to spell out that our relationship isn’t like other people’s.  Things are complicated in some ways.  The only clear thing is how we feel for each other.  Nothing would change that at this point.  Literally, nothing.  I would have been lying if I said that before South America, but I know now it’s true.”

“Yeah. I know the feeling- at least somewhat.”

“My lawyer says we file paperwork to have …”  Tara hesitated.  “IF you and Gavin ever decide you want to… if things are serious.  There’s ways to resolve this … complexity of yours.  I don’t want to be indelicate.  Again, mom and dad meant well taking you in but they couldn’t know what the future would hold when they adopted a young woman.  You weren’t a child, no matter what my mom thought about you.”

“We don’t need to talk about it. I know what I want, Gavin knows what I want, but I don’t need anything more than I have right now. It’s up to him, and I’d rather not discuss it without him here- feels like talking behind his back, you know?”

“I do.  I can respect how you feel but please remember that my brother is a bear of a man.  Stubborn.  Fierce when he needs to be but slow to realize and change.  Be persistent.  He’s worth it.”  Tara smiled at Cerise reassuringly.

“You don’t need to tell me that,” said Cerise. “But thank you.”

“I’ll leave you to your morning then.  I, um… I’ll talk to Oriana and as a heads up, I’m going to have a talk with Malcolm too… about his parents’ death and what his grand plan really is.  He might not be happy with me, but I know he wants the help I’ve been offering him so he’ll open up.”  Tara stood up.

“Do you think it would help or hurt to have Oriana there? He thinks so highly of her, it might help. If you think she’d say something helpful and not… counterproductive.”

Tara hesitated, unsure of herself.  “Having Oriana there is usually better, but … I think he’s likely to get mad at me or about what I have to tell him.  Might be best to anticipate him going off in a huff and having Oriana ready to follow or intercept him.  I don’t want him getting hurt.  I want the kid to be safe.”

“Oh God. You’re not going to talk to him about his crush, are you?”

“Oh no.  Goodness.  No.  I wouldn’t.  I haven’t even told Oriana.  I’m leaving that mess well enough alone.”

“She’s not an idiot. She knows. Well, she’s knows he’s looking. Maybe she doesn’t see more than that.”

“If she does, she’s not said a word to me about it either.  She has been very good at trying to play dumb.”

“Maybe she figures that’s just easier for everyone,” said Cerise. “Might be the right move. Ignore it, let him meet some other girl, and it fixes iteself.”

Tara shrugged, “Possible.  No, I’m going to talk to him about who killed his parents and the reasons.  No one has had that conversation with him yet.  He knows it’s tied up with the Venitian Godfather but… he doesn’t know that Ori’s sisters did it.  He has no idea that the training he’s prizing so highly is the same training they underwent and … I am reluctant to tell him but if I don’t and he learns later?  The kid might never forgive me.” 

“I get that.” 

“Best to rip the band-aid off and be done with it.  Let him get pissed.  Let him visit his parents’ graves here in Philly whatever he has to do to get it out and then … collect him up and try to help as best we can before you guys go back to Michigan.”  Tara cast her eyes out the kitchen window back towards the house where the kids were sleeping.

Cerise nodded. “I need to get moving, or I’m not going to have enough time to help with breakfast. Would you want to join me?”

“No.  I think I’ll go grab Mal and drag him on the run with me.  We’ll talk while we’re moving, will be good for him to have a way to get it out of himself a bit.”

Cerise raised an eyebrow. “... good luck with that. Those three don’t usually get up before 11.”

Tara smirked.  “Oh this will be fun.”

*

Tara peeked into the bedroom to see if Oriana was still sleeping.  It was 6:30am. The sun was well and truly rising now. It was going to be a lovely day, but she knew Ori was probably still sprawled out on the bed, sleeping it off.  Yet, just in case she wasn’t, Tara felt she had to check.

Finding that Oriana was still sleeping, Tara went down the hall to Will’s room.  She liked to think of them as Aurora and Will’s rooms though now they were simply guest rooms.  She and Oriana had replaced the furnishings but left the pictures in their place. For the most part neither of them had decor of their own and only now were beginning to buy things that meant something to them.  It felt like they were slowly bleeding into the river that was Hollowpoint and the family history rather than taking it over.

Jack and Malcolm were snoring lightly.  Tara pushed the door open quietly and tip toed across the floor to Mal’s bedside and poked the young man’s shoulder repeatedly until he began to stir.  “I’ve let you sleep in. Time to get up and go running young wolf. Get dressed. You have five minutes or I’m coming back up with cold water.”

“Sleep in?” said Malcolm. “It’s like…”

“I’ve been up since 4:30.  Mom always went running before the sun so that it wasn’t too hot and she could get a real hard workout in without dying of heat exhaustion.”

“We went to bed at 4:30,” said Jack, who’d stuffed his head under a pillow. “This is a violation of the Eighth Amendment, which prohibits cruel and unusual punishment.” 

“Well, look who has been doing his homework.”  Tara smirked. “Well, you won’t make that mistake twice at Hollowpoint - at least not without making sure I’m drinking too.”

“We didn’t drink that much,” said Malcolm, who was slowly and steadily waking up. “What are we doing?”

Tara arched an eyebrow high in the way her mother used to.  “Five miles.” She said flatly.

“I’m ready,” said Malcolm, rolling out of bed and landing on his feet.

Tara shook her head, “You really are the young wolf.  Christ help me. You’re going to put me through the paces even hung over.  Alright. Let’s get on with the punishment.”

“I’m not hungover.” He paused. “Not really.”

“Tell me that when you’re puking in twenty minutes.”  Tara said walking towards the door leaving Jack snoring in her wake.

Tara saw a pair of eyes blue eyes realize they were being challenged and push back before she turned.

Three minutes later, Malcolm met her outside. 

“Well here’s something I never thought Hollowpoint would see.”  She said to Malcolm as he came out of the house. “The daughter of Aurora Byrne ready to take a morning run with the son of William Byrne.  I can imagine Grandpa Gavin and Grandma Bella up in that house,” She pointed back at the house, “Placing bets on us right now. Back in the day, your father couldn’t hold a candle to my mother physically.  They used to torment the hell out of each other when they were younger than we are now. Sage’s age was when they finally started coming around to liking each other.” 

Tara paused to look Malcolm up and down.  “You ready for this?”

Malcolm was lanky, taller than his grandfather. Lean muscle. If he kept working as hard as he had the last few years, he might wind up with a build closer to his Uncle Anton. But the seeds were there: a good build, muscle, and a handsome face with a strong jawline. Icy blue eyes peered out from under his hair as he pushed it back out of his face. 

“Yea,” he said. “I usually do eight. This will be a nice break.” He stretched.

“Oh good because I meant five miles in addition to what I normally do - since you broke into my liquor without asking.”  She smiled.

“Okay,” he said, smirking at the image of Izzy walking into the room with a bottle in each hand. “That’s fair. How long do you usually go for?”

“Five.”  She said with a shrug, “But I’m not training to go to war so… I do less than some people.”

“Well, I’ve got a little more time on my hands than you do. And if you’re not training to go to war, you should start.”

“True I do have more time on my hands.”  Tara shook her head though to the comment about war.  “I prefer to live my life as long as I’m alive, not spend my life preparing for the day it ends.  I run because I like it - because it connects me to the people I love.  It keeps me strong.  That and fat mobsters are so cliche.”

“Keeping strong and training for war is the same thing, isn’t it? Being prepared to defend the people you care about?”

Tara motioned for the young man to follow and she began a slow run.   He took off after her, keeping pace as they began to move around the grounds.

“Yeah, well, do you know what Grandpa Gavin, Mom, and Uncle Volkov had in common other than grueling training routines?” asked Tara. “All their training didn’t save them or the people they loved most.  The training can help life be prolonged but it’s not what made their lives good or bad.”

“Right. Grandpa Gavin, Aunt Rora, and Uncle Volkov all saved people dozens of times, maybe hundreds. Because they trained and prepared.”

“You’re not wrong, but neither am I.  They had more, and when they didn’t, they suffered.  Uncle Anton would have been the first person to tell you that and Grandpa Gavin would have agreed with him.  My mom was smart enough to have learned from them both that there was much more than just training the body and mind in life.”  She glanced at Mal.

“Everybody dies,” said Malcolm. “I know that. You know I know that. I just want the people I love to get as close as they can to dying of old age. And I have more than that; I have my family.”

“So is that what this is about? The training?  Or is there a bigger plan?”

“My bigger plan,” said Malcolm, “is to make sure that anyone who ever wants to hurt a member of this family needs to go through me. And I plan to make it hard on them.”

“Can I ask you something about Uncle Will?”  Tara said, listening to the sound of their feet slapping the ground in time with one another. Malcolm nodded to answer her question.

“You’re older now.  You obviously get that his choices in life were complicated and not as clear cut as the press agents who worked for him wanted everyone to think.”  She drew a breath and made sure she had wind to keep talking. “What have you come to think about your father’s life and his choices? Obviously you’re thinking of joining The Life, so, it makes me wonder.”

“Dad…” the young man paused. “Dad made the right choices for himself and for mom and for me. He did what he thought was right, and I’m doing the same thing. I think that, in another world, my dad would have taken down the mob and gone on to be president someday. I’d be sitting in some prep school right now. But we don’t live in that world. I think the only mistake my dad made was to think he could get out of the life and still try to shut it down.” He gasped for breath after the longer speech, but seemed to recover. “I don’t blame him. For the record. He made all the right choices, as he saw them.”

“Mom blamed herself for your parents deaths.”  Tara admitted.

“I know.”

“She wanted to do right by you.  To give you a safe and happy childhood, as much as possible, but she knew the score.  She knew it was much more likely she’d meet an end like her own mother. We all knew it, coming back to the States from Canada.”

“But you still came back.”

“If it had been my call,”  Tara shook her head. “We wouldn’t have.  I told my mother I thought she was making a huge mistake.  My father too.”

“Looking back, who was right?”

They’d already run a few miles, both were breathing harder, and Tara didn’t want to try to gasp out a long speech. They pulled over on the top of the hill near the back of the grounds that led into the forest, looking down at Hollowpoint.

“We both were.  My mom is right that you can’t live in a vacuum.  You can’t put yourself behind a wall and call it living.  And… I was right, the price of the brilliant and happy life we had in New York was going to be very high.  But see that’s the thing isn’t it? Like gambling. Life can be played safe and it can be played with great risk.  Neither promises a long time at the table. One, however promises you’re going to have a fucking awesome time no matter how long you’re there.”

Malcolm nodded.

“Our parents stood on this hill the day they left Hollowpoint.”  Tara said looking back towards the house. “I figure the woods over there is the route they ran.  Grandpa Gavin made his choice to stay with the kids somewhere along this path. I brought you out here on purpose.”  She looked to Malcolm. “The worst parts of people’s lives… they shape us like fire in a forge. And the really serious shit… it stays with us and in our blood reaching out from the past.  You’re marked by the Luciano blood, the Byrnes…” She shook her head. “Their stories are yours Mal.”

“... and the Mastrosimones.”

Tara smiled at him.  “Thank you for that.”  She looked towards the city proper.  “Five miles that way.  You come out near the airport.  I’ve run that path every day since coming back here.  Sometimes I walk.  You’ll find the path is beaten down in the grass pretty well this time of year.  Dying like it is.  Probably not smart of me, doing the same thing over and over… but I’m not anyone important … yet.”  She smirked.

Malcolm matched her smile. “Me neither.”

“I’m going to tell you some things.  You can run back with me to the house after and that’s that.  Or, if you need to clear your head… there’s five more miles.”  She said nodding towards the airport.  “Just promise me you’ll come back.  Nothing dangerous, no matter what I say next.  I want your word as a Byrne.  Do I have it?”

“Yes.”

“When mom came back from Italy, you were told that it was over and you asked me if it was true that the people who killed your parents were dead.  I told you that they were.”  Tara said nodding and walking over to a bolder and sitting down upon it.

Malcolm’s eyes narrowed. He stayed standing, arms crossed in front of him as he looked out at the house and grounds.

“It wasn’t the whole story.  You were young and it was complicated but I’m going to tell you the part I left out back then.”  Tara looked up at the sky which now was blue.  The day had finally become the sort she knew it would be.  Lovely and clear.  Already the world was warming under the sun’s touch.

“Two women, assassins were hired by the Godfather of Venice to kill your father.  He was not the first target.  Cousin Giovanni, my father’s cousin - Addie’s brother, he was the first.  These women were trained by the Italian Government to work for them as elite infiltration and ‘management’ of ‘delicate’ state issues.  That is to say they were basically a strike force of a sort.  The man who ran this government program, he took in girls - young girls…”  Tara could see it already beginning to dawn on his face the moment she began talking about young girls and a program, but she pressed on.

“He knew these orphans had no one and he could make himself a father figure and eventually friend and lover to them.  They would worship him and do whatever he asked.  He warped their minds and made them into weapons.  He disregarded their humanity and he acted with the very sort of evil that the devil himself would be unnerved by.”

Tara looked at Mal, “I didn’t know for sure until Mom came home and explained to me the whole story.  Oriana didn’t either.  She’d run away from the program before they were sent after your father so she … she couldn’t have known, but the man who hurt Ori… the man who hurt Cerise and Sage, the man I killed… he trained the women who killed your parents.  His name was Francesco Bianchi and while it’s true the women who killed your parents died, the whole affair really didn’t end until the day I brought Cerise and the other girls home.  Cerise and Sage were part of a group he gathered up after he’d lost the girls who killed your parents.  They had nothing to do with your parents death, to be clear about that.  I don’t want to confuse you about them … they were, are, victims of this man.  And while they are strong in some ways because of what they learned in his possession - they have deep scars too.  Like Oriana.  In ways you can’t begin to fathom.”

“Francesco Bianchi is definitely dead? And the two women who killed my parents and Volkov? They are definitely dead as well?”

Tara nodded, “I knew that part was important to you but … I thought you deserved to know that all the things leading up to the final war in New York … we were still fighting the same enemy, after a fashion.  In some ways, we still are. Sage fights it in her nightmares - that monster still has sway over her. Oriana fights it in her dreams too… and when she wakes, he’s always there. If she let’s her guard down, I think he’s in her thoughts far more than she ever tells me.  I think Cerise must have her demons as well, though I haven’t come to understand them. If you want to fight to protect this family - and this is another reason I tell you all this - you have to understand the battleground is in many places. And it’s not always as easy as picking up a gun.  Sometimes its much harder than that, I know you’re still fighting too. The women are dead, the man who kept them prisoner and forced them to kill for him is gone, but you are out here today fighting literally beating your body into a shape because of what they did. You’re still fighting and maybe you will be forever, but you’re not alone.  I hope you know that.”

“I do know that,” he said in a quiet voice. “If I was alone, I wouldn’t be training so hard.”

“Do you feel like it’s your job to protect us, Mal?”  Tara said tilting her head to the side.

“No. It’s not something I have to do. It’s something I want to do. I’ve lost too many families. I’m not losing this one without a fight.”

“There are two ways to look at what you’ve been through Mal, as there often is in life.  You can say you’ve lost too many families and that’s not wrong - no child should ever have to go through what you did.  However, you’ve had more loving people in your life than most folks ever know.”  

“I shouldn’t have phrased it like that. I didn’t lose two families. It’s all been one family, but you know what I meant.” 

“I do.  More than you know.  I have a very unique perspective that no one else in the family really has.  You see, I committed a very serious crime at a very young age and the price of that crime was the burden of seeing the future coming before it was upon me.  The past it tells us things about the future, you see. Patterns can be discerned, understanding can be gained, knowledge… Mal, it’s power but the price is a high one.  You come to see your heroes are humans after all and the fairytales lose some of their shine. You also learn some amazing truths that … guide you and help you grow. I want to offer you the same choice I had, to gain that kind of knowledge.  I’ll tell you though, some of it… might be hard to read. You’ll blush. You’ll laugh. You’ll cry and want to throw it away when you get to a point where they’re being so stupid and blind and they don’t know the story is coming to a close faster than they realize.”

Tara pulled several small leather bound books of various ages out of her coat’s deep pockets.    

“My sins.  Our legacy.”  She said putting the books in her lap.  She patted the cover of the top book. “These belonged to Isabella Luciano, Isabella Byrne and Aurora Byrne at one point in time.  They are… journals. The entries and private thoughts of two women growing up and growing old. They aren’t filtered. They say horrible things sometimes.  Hateful. Things you might not think they’d be capable of… and yet, they are incredibly wise at times. They provide great insight into not only the women but the people around them.  Your father. Your grandfather. Uncle Volko,v even though the books ends pretty much after Russia. Still, there’s a bit there to be learned about him too. The question is… are you ready for these?  Do you want to know wha-”

“Yes.”

Tara offered the books reverently to the young man.  “There are no copies but these so far as I know. Can’t imagine they would ever want to make more than one of their own thoughts… so try to care for them as if they are priceless… because they are.”  Tara smiled.  

“Do you have a journal, Tara?”

“I do.  I wasn’t going to keep one after reading those, but… I changed my mind.”

“Maybe I’ll start keeping one, too.”

Tara smiled, “It helps.  Having a place to put down all your thoughts and look back on them from time to time.  Just don’t spend too much of your time re-reading your own mistakes. The blessing of life is that we can leave behind the things we fuck up and not dwell in them.  It takes both of these women a long time to accept that too. Mom didn’t learn it until after she was done writing her journal.”

“Thank you, Tara. This… means a lot to me. But I want to know the rules. Can I tell Jack and Izzy about these? Can they read them?”

“Jack and Izzy have read some of my mother’s already.  I showed all my siblings some of what’s in them. It’s how I got busted having stolen them from my mother.  If you choose to share anything with them, I know you won’t do it without good reason or serious consideration beforehand.  I know for a fact Bella meant for her journals to be read one day by her children and grandchildren - though she never filtered out her honest thoughts so far as I can tell.  Which is somewhat shocking to realize. She began her journals after her father gave her one from another mobster… whose journal I’ve also kept. A distant relative of ours. Lucia DiCaprio.  Lucky Lucy as she was known in her time.”

“I’m not… it’s not about me choosing to share things. I just mean that the three of us don’t really keep secrets from each other, except for maybe one or two things. If I’m reading anything, they know what it is.”

“You’re welcome to share if you want.  I have no objections. Though you might warn them that reading about your mother and grandmother’s love lives does at times get strange.”  she laughed. “Of course, on the flip side, it does allow you to realize just how important their relationships were to making them who they became.  Mom’s relationship with her parents and your father… Nona Bella with Grandpa Gavin and all the other people in her life like Aunt Tara and Uncle Bowden.”

“Eric always tells me I look like Grandpa Gavin. I’m looking forward to reading these.”

“Nona Bella does make him out to be quite dashing, a hero, a rogue and scoundrel of the best sort.  I suspect she writes him much more favorably than most people would… mom too perhaps. But, you’ll like what you learn, even the bad stuff.  The hard things… he made mistakes too I think. I’ll leave you to make your own judgements.”

“Love blinds, right?”

“Most certainly it does.  Shall we make the run back?”  She said looking back to Hollowpoint.  “Ori’s probably waiting on breakfast by now.”

Malcolm just nodded.

*

By the time Tara had Mal had come back, the kids were finally up and about.  It wasn’t eleven but Victoria wailing and Oriana stumbling through childcare was apparently enough to wake the dead.  Happily Sage knew what she was doing when it came to Victoria’s morning routines.

After what Tara would have considered a light breakfast, the kids ran off together.  Tara waited until they were gone for a full two minutes before she said to Oriana, “I gave Malcolm my mom and grandmother’s journals.  If he’s going to push his body and mind this hard for the family - he deserves a clear picture of what it entails and what price he’s likely to pay for the choices he’s looking at making.  I know, I know, he’s lost so much so he probably knows but - there’s a difference in the pain that happened to you and reading about other people’s losses, ya know?  You can look at those a bit more objectively than the shit that happens to you.”

Tara looked out towards the den and picked Victoria up out of her high chair.  “You wanna take this out on the patio, let the kiddo get some sunshine for a bit?”

“Sure. And sounds like a good move, with Mal. He pushes himself hard. Wants to fight me again later.”

Tara stifled a chuckle and kissed Victoria’s red locks. “Yeah, well, he respects that you don’t go easy on him I think.”

“He’s good. Really good, actually, for his age. But some humility will help him.”

“Humility is good.”  She said softly, walking out the double doors onto the tiled patio.  She put down Victoria and positioned herself so that the little girl could crawl about and explore but not really get too far or into anything dangerous.  “Of course, you should probably be careful.  Not sure what effect getting his ass kicked by a girl is going to have on him exactly at this age.”

“I’m not some random broad,” shrugged Ori. “He’ll be fine.”

“You most certainly aren’t.”  she said with a hint of flirtation in her tone.  She smirked.  “So… I talked to Cerise this morning too.”

“Yeah? How’s she? Finally sleeping in?”

“No, she went out for an early run; she won’t even discuss the topic of her and Gavin without Gavin being there.”  She chuckled.  “I gather the situation is still as it was before… she’s holding a candle and he’s… holding her at arm’s length.”

“They’ll figure it out themselves, I’m sure.”

She nodded, “I’m not trying to push, I just don’t get Gavin right now.  He’s always so … in touch with his emotions and he’s always good with people and with Cerise he’s acting like an idiot.  It’s not like him at all.”
 

“Want my theory?” asked Oriana.

“Always.”  Tara said leaning towards Ori.

“He’s being dumb. I think he wants to marry her, crank out a couple more kids. But he feels like she’s just… stuck with him. Like she wouldn’t be with him, if things had played out differently. Like he doesn’t deserve her, and that making her commit would be taking advantage of her being in a bad situation.” She paused. “It’s how I felt with you for a while. ‘Til I realized you were just useless without me.” She smirked as she sat down on the patio chair.

Tara gave Oriana a playful glare and  then chuckled, “Well, I can see where he gets that idea.  Like she feels she has a debt to the family and is only there because of that and he’s… well, there and of course she’s interested, she’s got no other options, right?  Dumb ass.” She shakes her head. “Big dumb loveable ass. He’ll figure it out though, in time, right?”

“He will.”

“Cerise mentioned that Sage is still having nightmares.”  Tara crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in her patio chair.

“About me,” said Ori. “Killing the three… whatever you want to call them. Brainwashed little shits. I don’t blame her.”

“I told Cerise that I would get her the names and phone numbers of a few experts in the medical field who Sage could talk to, people who know how to help people who’ve been through some really rough stuff, to sort it out.”  

“Good.”

“Sometimes things are bigger than we know how to handle and even if we love someone and think the world of them, we’re maybe not all they need - that’s what I told Cerise.  She shouldn’t feel like she’s let Sage down or anything. It’s just… hard to let go of things like that; when you see something horrible or something wrong is done to you or if you’re made to do things …”  Tara was looking at Oriana with eyes that seemed to be measuring her, watching her every move closely and not in her usual appreciative way.

“Good advice. I’m sure it’ll help. So did you want to watch Malcolm and I spar today? He’s not ready for primetime, but I think some extra pressure would help him.”

“No.”  Tara said, shaking her head.  “I think it’s best I don’t watch you and he, um.  I um… I just. There was more I had to say about the doctor thing, Ori.”

Ori looked askance at Tara for a moment. “What?”

“I haven’t known how to begin talking to you about this, I didn’t know for sure that I would, but there is a reason I have the numbers of some specialists in this sort of thing and it’s not because I was proactively anticipating Sage needing a professional to talk to - it’s because I was fairly sure that it might be something you might need.  A sort of help I can’t provide you and now that we have the money to find the very best people … I thought maybe you’d be open to it. I wouldn’t even bring it up if I wasn’t …” Tara struggled to find the right words.

“I’m scared of-

Tara saw Oriana suddenly tense more than she had in years; it was like Tara had physically struck her.

“- what I’m going to do to you, Oriana, when my time comes.”  

Instantly Tara seemed to realize the reaction that Oriana appeared to have had and she reached a hand towards her.  “I’m not scared of you.  I hope you know that.  It’s not like that at all.”

“I thought you were going to say that. Sage said that.”

Tara nodded.  “I understand and I can’t imagine how that must have made you feel. To logically understand her, but emotionally.”

“She’s right to be afraid,” whispered Oriana. “I knifed three teenage girls right in front of her, and she was a kid. If Sage had been older and a little more gullible, she might have been one of them.”

“You would NEVER hurt that girl, Oriana.  I know you.  You didn’t murder innocent children, you killed assassins who were so brainwashed that they would have killed you and Sage and Cerise and Indigo and Azure without a second thought.  What you did was self-defense if anything.”

“Pre-emptive self defense?”

“When dealing with assassins, is there anything else?”  She said arching an eyebrow.  “And let’s be serious here, this is exactly the sort of thing I’m talking about - a morally challenging situation that I can’t help you navigate because anything I say you’re sure to believe is just because I love you and therefore I must be stupid because of it.”  She gave the barest hint of a smile.

“I don’t regret what I did, Tara. I’d do it again today. And if Cerise, Indigo, Azure, and Sage all stuck with him, I would have walked down that mountain alone. So I don’t blame Sage.”

“You’re a soldier.  You did what you had to in order to survive.  You’re not unique in coming back from conflict with more than a few issues with what you had to do.  I wish that loving you would just make all the monsters go away - but it won’t.  And it won’t for Sage either.  It’s going to take time to help her see she’s not the thing that she was that day and neither are you.  You both were in an impossible situation.  You were facing things no one should have to face.  I don’t hate or fear you because of that - but I can acknowledge that I don’t know how to help you.  I just love you enough to want to try whatever it takes to help you find peace.”

Ori was quiet for a long time. “If you really want me to talk to someone, if it will make you feel better, then I will. But I don’t know what good it’s going to do.”

“Well, we’ll try it for a while then.  And if it has no effect after some time, if you’re absolutely feeling against it, you can stop.”

“What effect is it supposed to have?” asked Ori, sitting up a bit straighter.

Tara was quiet for a moment, watching Victoria babbling and playing with one of her toys.  “My grandmother wrote about my grandfather and his struggles often. He’d have nightmares, not quite like yours but bad ones.  For years his scars weren’t just physical but the man my mom describes in her journal she … she writes about man with older scars.  A man who talk about the past and it wasn’t like… opening wounds anymore.”

“This is because of how I killed those Germans.”

Tara nodded, “Yes, Ori, but also because of how you were in my arms when you came back from it.  It’s not about how the men died, but how you were … dying.” She said sadly, pain in her eyes.  

“I thought they killed you. I just wanted to hurt them- punish them.”

“You were getting reckless.  You were sloppy in the end, Oriana, you were looking for death and you might not want to admit that but you know I wouldn’t throw that at you lightly.  The last thing in this world I could have ever handled was coming back from all that shit to find you had killed yourself in such a … useless act as vendetta.”

“You were dead,” said Ori, as if that simple fact explained the entirety of her actions.

“And you dying would have changed what exactly?  Did any of it really make you feel better?” She asked genuinely.

“... yes. They killed you and hurt me, and I enjoyed returning the favor.”

Tara sat quietly, looking at her.

“I’m not a good person, Tara. I told you that right after I met you.”

“Stop!”  Tara snapped.  The baby startled.  “I know what you said about yourself but I should have asked you this question.  I want to know … you’ve been a bad person, Oriana, but is that who you want to be forever?  Because, people can be bad and then stop or… at least put some restraints on themselves. They can learn ethics and codes of honor, they can come to new realizations and grow.  Change. I think you’ve changed a great deal since we’ve met and you can keep staying you’re not a good person and I can allow that, but I think it’s far more true to say that you’re trying to be a good person.  Are you? Are you a person trying to be good who had a horrible thing happen to her and for a moment you broke … or are you a bad person who can’t figure out what see in you?”

“I know what you see in me. It’s why I love you. I think I’m… nicer. You took the part of me that cared about being on a team, and you made me part of your family. I just... good people don’t kill people for money. I’m not a fucking maniac; I’m not going to just start randomly killing people. But outside of you, my family, my friends, I just don’t give a shit about other people. I’d have killed thousands of Germans to bring you back from the dead, and I wouldn’t have blinked. I’m… part of your pack.”

“You are.”  Tara said compassionately.  “But killing people didn’t bring me back, resourcefulness saved me.  Training, every day, and knowledge about the woods.  That saved me.  The will to keep going when laying down and dying might have seemed appealing here and there - that was you and it saved me.  I knew you were out there waiting for me to come back.  I told myself there was no way in hell you and Jo underestimated my chances in a wilderness setting… but as the days wore on and it was harder and harder to get through that shit… I started to realize, I was telling myself a story.  I would have thought you were dead too.  And I would have killed the Germans too.”  she nodded.  “I get it.  It’s why I didn’t make a big deal about it when we reunited.”

“Just not as… creatively,” smirked Ori.

“It’s not even that.  Fuck, my Grandmother would have applauded some of your shit, and she was arguably a good woman… if twisted as hell in some ways.  She had a father she wanted to impress too.”  She shook her head.  “More and more I realize that when I met you I thought I was dealing with a woman like my Grandfather and instead… I’ve learned you’re much more like the Dragon he lived with.  No.  It wasn’t the murder that bothered me.  That I got.  I understand that… it was the woman I held in my arms when we reunited that scared the ever loving fuck out of me, Oriana.  You have found a way to take something that makes you strong while I’m here and… in that moment, I made you weak.  My being lost and thought dead could have gotten you killed.  I hate that.  I loathe that.  I want you to be sad and mourn me if I go first but I don’t want to think that your life becomes a blood swath of death and destruction before an abrupt and horrible ending.  I don’t want to think the last thing I did for you in this world was that and it’s not my love that’s fucked you up… it’s the bits and pieces of all the other things mixed up with it.”

“New deal,” said Ori. “If one of us dies like that, the other person has to go to Iceland for a month. Cool off. Then visit the rest of the family before they kill anyone. Or the other way around.”

Tara thought about it and then nodded slowly.  “Okay.  I can agree to that.”  She looked down to the baby girl pulling on her pant leg trying to stand and gave her a smile.

“Unless,” said Ori. “The person who killed me is right there. In that case… blast the fucker.”

“That’s officially your last request of me… ‘blast the fucker’... such a poet.”  She chuckled.

“Alright,” said Ori, standing up. “I’m going to go beat the shit out of your cousin.”

Tara didn’t respond, just watched Oriana walking away, returning her eyes to the baby once Ori disappeared from sight.

*

When Gavin, Cerise, and all the kids had piled into a van and pulled out of the driveway, Ori audibly exhaled. “They’re closing to growing up. Sage couldn’t shut up about this boy she was dating… wouldn’t be shocked to see that one get out of the business and get married fast. But Jack, Izzy, and Malcolm? Those three are going to be a handful.”

Ori traced a finger along Tara’s shoulder blades as she walked past her. 

“Jack will end up walking the same road as Uncle William, I think.  Though he wants to do it for the family. To help us, ya know?”

“Business?” asked Ori.

“He’s talking about law of all things, I thought he was playing a prank on me.  He said he wasn’t, had a lot on his mind ever since he heard about all those folks who tried to used the law to steal from us.  Said that maybe it wouldn’t be bad if someone in the family wore a suit and carried a briefcase that had something other than guns in it.”  Tara beamed.

“... that’s interesting. We could use a lawyer.”

Tara nodded, “That’s what I told him.  I also told him if he keeps his grades up and he’s serious about this, that I’ll get him into whatever school he wants.  Best of everything. Honestly, mom and Dad would be shocked as hell. And proud. I told him that too. He’s smart enough, and cunning.  Always been his thing, witty and just sharp as hell - though I’ve never seen him apply himself.”

“Well… Malcolm’s going the other direction. Kid’s on a mission. Wants to be strong. Deadly.”

“Gavin is worried about him.”  Tara wandered into the den and made herself something to drink.  “Can’t say I blame him. I see what he’s getting at but I don’t know the right way to deal with it so… my best guess is to have each of us on the same page behind the scenes and offering him options so he doesn’t go rogue on the family.”

“Can’t stop him. Just try to train him, point him in the right direction.”

“Well, that’s what I told Gavin.  Meanwhile, I’m asking Gavin not to let up on the other side of things.  Offering him support, reminding him he doesn’t have to do that and that he has options.  Gavin loves the kid, but between you and me… I think Gavin worries about letting Mom down by doing wrong by Mal.”

“He just needs to find him a girl. Get some of that aggression out, refocus him. I mean, he’s a little young.”

Tara smirked into her glass, drank, and then licked the remainder off her lips.  She cleared her throat. “Well, be that as it may, I think you underestimate the amount of pressure Gavin feels living with a name that our mother felt was larger than life.  And, Mal, being the last Byrne probably feels that way too. The two of them, in the same house… it’s bound to end bad. I’m expecting something of a blow up, eventually.”

“Well, let’s make sure we see them a lot in the next couple years. Help make sure they know the next step they want to take. Then Gavin’ll get his life back a bit; he and Cerise can just focus on Vic.”

Tara nodded a little sadly at the mention of Victoria, but didn’t speak to that, instead went back to talking about Malcolm.  “Well, at least the matter of Mal’s name was settled without too much fuss. I wish he’d reconsider but I get it. The whole damn situation is just heart-breaking.  Hopefully one day he doesn’t end up regretting it. Maybe it’ll be like it was for my Dad when he changed his name though… freeing from the demons of his past. A way to start his own life away from the sins of his father and mother.”

Ori was an accomplished liar, but Tara could read her face better than anyone else on the planet, and she could tell when Ori was holding back from saying something. A miniscule bite of the lip and an eye that darted away half a second too soon was all she needed to see.

“Truth or Dare?”  Tara said sitting down into the large chair by the fireplace.  “10K penalty for refusing.”

“... what? Uh… dare,” said Ori, seemingly relieved to change the subject.

“I dare you to remove your panties and put them on the table.  Your turn.” Tara reclined in the chair staring at her speaking not lustily but as if speaking about business.

“Tara, we live alone. And we are alone. Doesn’t it seem a little silly to-” At the look from Tara, she sighed. With a sardonic look, Ori maintained eye contact with Tara as she adorned the table with another article of clothing.

“Then that dare shouldn’t be a problem… or I’m now 10K richer.  Your call and your turn.” Tara seemed quite disinterested, as if she really didn’t care which Ori chose. She propped her elbow onto the arm of the chair and rested her chin on her extended thumb, her index finger going up the side of her cheek.

Ori rebuckled her jeans and sat back down, crossing her legs. “How many rounds does this-”

“Truth.”  Tara offered blandly.

“... did you do this game because you could tell I was thinking about something?”

“You’d eventually choose truth and I know you can’t resist winning a game so… it was either that or call you out on a lie of omission and I wanted to skip the fuss of a fight.  It’s been a nice weekend. I didn’t want to end it on a shit note.” She crossed her legs and reached a hand over to snag Oriana’s panties.

“Dare.”

“Bitch.”  Tara shook her head, amused if somewhat annoyed.  “Your shoes. I’d like them please.”

Ori kicked off her shoes in Tara’s direction without sitting up.

“Truth.”  Tara said again know that Ori would hate having to come up with questions almost as much as she would hate having to come up with a dozen or more dares before Ori got bored and broke down to tell the truth.

“Did you feel like you couldn’t just ask me what I was thinking about?”

“I felt like if you needed to hide something from me that there was probably a good chance it’s something we’re going to either argue about or it was something you feel uncomfortable about… maybe ashamed and honestly… I had hoped we were past the point of me needing to prove you can just talk to me.  I don’t judge you, Ori.”

“I know. But you can ask me stuff, too. I just, it’s hard for me to just say what I’m thinking sometimes. Maybe I’m just used to you asking me.”

“Do you like that I ask you questions all the time?  I mean, you certainly make a fuss about it and well, I presumed that meant you didn’t.”  Tara shrugged.

“... I like it,” admitted Ori. 
 

“Then I’ll spare you the silly games.  Though I will keep this.” She tucked the panties into her pocket.  “What were you thinking about a minute or two ago, when we were talking about Mal?”

“Whether I should change my last name to Mastrosimone. But then I thought it might be weird, since it’d seem like we were sisters or cousins or something. But at the same time...” Ori shrugged.

Tara sat still, looking at Oriana for a moment, her heart racing.  She wasn’t sure why she felt this way, or even what it was she was feeling, panic?  Was this panic?  She struggled to find words.  Her mouth felt dry all the sudden, cakey.  Her eyes darted to the side as her mind raced through a million things she thought she should say but immediately decided not to because they were stupid or not profound enough.

“You don’t need to say anything,” added Ori. “This is why I didn’t just say it. I didn’t want to break your brain like that. I mean look, we’ve talked about me hypothetically fucking a guy in an alley, and you said that was that was okay if I had to, so I know we’re not like… some old couple or anything.. But we’ve gotten shot for each other and I-”

Tara began shaking her head in a negative fashion.  Her mouth open just slightly.  “No.”  Finally she said, very quietly, her eyes searching for something they could not lock on.  

“... no what?” asked Ori.

“This isn’t … what you think.  I’m not… you didn’t say anything wrong I just… um…”  She fumbled through her words the way she used to when they first met.  Struggling to find something that sounded like English again, only this time she wasn’t smiling and blushing.  Tara almost felt like she might cry instead as the realization dawned on her why this whole conversation was wrong from beginning to end.

Ori sat up straighter. 

“I’m screwing up.”  She said, trying to catch her breath.  

Ori was silent for a few beats. “... dare.”

Tara looked like she was going to say something and then sighed.  “Really?  Now?”  She gave a half-laugh.

“I just thought you might need some time to think. And maybe if I shove my tits in your face we can just… I dunno, forget this if you want to. It’s honestly fine.”

Tara sighed and spoke softly her eyes falling to the floor, “The day I ask someone to take my name shouldn’t be… while I’m getting drunk with their panties in my pocket in the den of our house.  You deserve better than that Oriana.  You deserve perfection.  You deserve a moment like Bella and Gavin or my parents even…”

“Shut up. That’s exactly what I deserve, because I like it. But-” Ori said, holding up an imperious hand to stop any potential torrents of words. “... why don’t we just… think about it for a while. Next time we’re a little drunk we’ll talk about the possibility again?” 

Tara was about to agree when out the window she spotted the moonlight on the patio.  It was a simple thing.  Really nothing she hadn’t looked at dozens of times before but in that moment, contemplating ‘next time’ she couldn’t help but remember what had happened here.  Not feet from her, someone else didn’t get a ‘next time’ and plans to say things that would never be said, were made.  

Tara exhaled.  “Will you give me two minutes?  Just two.  That’s all I need.”

Ori’s eyes went wide. “Wait. Wait. Are you… what are you doing?” She paused. “Would this change anything between us? I don’t want anything to change. I like my life. Our life.”

Tara stood up.  She walked over to Oriana and put a hand on her cheek.  “Two minutes.”  She said, locking her brown eyes on Ori’s.

Ori’s eyes begged for an answer to the question about change, but she nodded. Tara could tell she was rattled.

The second Ori nodded, Tara broke into a run and sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time.  She tore through the bedroom as fast as she could and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, running fingers through her hair and pinching her cheeks to redden them a bit.  The rest would have to suffice.  

Tara tore into the closet and pulled out the box hidden under piles of winter clothing she’d stashed for later in the year.  She dashed back to her vanity and pulled open the drawer on her grandmother’s jewelry box and pulled out the small ring on the necklace and then taking a moment to compose her thoughts went back down the stairs with purpose.

Coming into the den, Tara was the image of nerves but happiness.  It was that young girl again, the one Ori met what felt like a lifetime ago to Tara.  Unsure, but eager, excited to walk a new road. Fumbling her way through the motions that she’d only ever read about in books.  She took in the sight of Oriana standing in the den where so many of her favorite stories had taken place, where the lives of the people she most wanted to be like had actually happened and now… a big moment of her own was going to happen right here in this same spot.  Tara could feel the eyes of her parents on her as she crossed the room to Oriana.

She first offered to Oriana the box she was carrying only slightly larger than her hand in length, and no thicker than three inches deep.  It was wood, dark cherry and polished to a high shine. It was a thing of beauty this box. The box was a work of art all on it’s own featuring a beautiful fox carved into the top of it, mid-stride across a grassy field under a sky filled with billowy clouds.

Ori stared at the fox for a moment, smirked, then opened the box cautiously, like she was vaguely expecting some sort of bomb mechanism attached. 

The inside of the box was lined with a fine fabric, soft to the touch and laid within it, in a space made to its shape, was a knife.  A dagger really, but smaller. “Damascus steel.” Tara said. “The man I commissioned from said that it was one of the finest he’d made.  The box took a while to get made, I was pretty picky, but I mean… all the knives you carry, none of them seem like they would feel like that one.  This one reminded me of my Grandfather’s. It’s not just any knife. It’s your knife and it will always be the knife I gave you.”.  

Oriana’s mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide. She picked up the blade, feeling the leather grip- it seemed warm to the touch.

“We began with a knife.”  She said quietly. “And trust.  And… a situation we couldn’t have really ever predicted and yet… we made through it.  Like so much else we’ve seen in our time together. We couldn’t predict it, no matter how much training you had or knowledge I’d gained… life just happens and as stupid as it sounds, we’re both a lot more successful in facing the shit life throws at us when we’re together rather than apart.  Nothing, not a word or a name could ever change who and what we are, Oriana Montini.

“No,” said Ori, smiling as she held her knife. “Say it. I want you to say it first.”

Tara dropped to a knee and took out the necklace and pulled off the ring from it and- as she started put it onto her own left hand, Oriana stopped her, then slid it on to Tara’s finger.

“Will you do me the honor of letting me chance my last name to Montini?”  She said looking up at Oriana.  

“Of c- what?!” blurted Ori.

“You once insisted that you were never going to be one of us… well, we’re not adopting you, Oriana.  I’m marrying you. That’s it. I want to take your name. Madam M… M wasn’t ever going to mean Mastrosimone, I didn’t tell you that what I had hoped for was… to be Montini.  I was going to eventually ask you … before the club opened. I wanted to make sure you didn’t feel rushed though.”

“But I… I was going to take your… your family, and everything, and…” Tara had rarely seen Oriana look so confused.

“Oh,”  She smiled up at Oriana, her eyes sparkling with love.  

“Why would you ever want to be a Montini?”

“The mountains.  The way you spoke about them.  The love you have for your sisters … you shouldn’t give up on that little bit of joy from your past.  I know that things didn’t go as you wanted but … Ori, there’s so much about your life you dislike. I would never ask you to give up one of the precious memories you have.  Instead, I’d like to share it with you. You’ll be a member of my family regardless. You know that, right? Marrying me, does kinda mean you are family.”

“I… you’re running the Mastrosimone family, Tara. Your parents’ name means so much to you, to other people.”

“Every little girl loves her father’s name but eventually she leaves home and becomes someone else.  When I was little I thought that I would probably do the same. Then… I got really sad when I realized I wouldn’t.  And then, it occurred to me - well, who the hell is anyone to tell Tara Mastrosimone what she can and can not do? If I want to be Tara Montini, the wife of Oriana, who is going to tell me no?”

“Come here,” said Oriana. Tara stood and walked over to Oriana, standing in front of her. Ori stood up and faced her, then kept a hand on her shoulder as she paced around her.

Ori held the knife to Tara’s throat, just for old time’s sake. She bit Tara’s earlobe gently.

“What’s your name?” Tara could hear the smile in Ori’s voice.

Tara giggled and then sighed, leaning back against Ori just slightly.  “Tara Montini,” she replied.

Tara couldn’t see Ori blink away the water in her eyes, but she could hear it in Ori’s voice. “Now… stand still. I’m not used to this knife yet. And I’m going to cut every single piece of your clothing off you, and you’ll kill the mood if I make you bleed too much.”

“You’re such a romantic.”  Tara said in a husky whisper as she felt the knife carve effortlessly through the back of her sweater.  It was going to be a very long night, but Tara didn’t mind. There were much worse ways to end up married to a person than standing in the living room of your family home surrounded by the faces of the people you loved on all four walls.  Of course… she hoped they’d at least make it to the bedroom before they got to the honeymoon part.

Tara was half-right; she made it to the stairs.