Mario Puzo - The Last Don

But when he tried to speak to her, Lila ignored him and walked to the sanctuary of matrons at another table.

Cross said a little sheepishly to Dante, «I guess she doesn't like my looks.» Dante smiled at him wickedly.

Dante had turned into a curious young man with enormous vitality and a sharp, cunning face. He had the coarse black hair of the Clericuzio, which he kept confined underneath a curious Renaissance-style cap. He was very short, no more than five feet and a few inches, but he had an enormous confidence, perhaps because he was the favorite of the old Don. He carried with him always the air of malice. Now he said to Cross, «Her last name is Anacosta.»

Cross remembered the name. A year before, the Anacosta Family had suffered a tragedy. The head of the family and his oldest son had been shot to death in a Miami hotel room. But Dante was looking at Cross, waiting for some sort of answer. Cross made his face impassive. «So?» he said.

Dante said, «You work for your father, right?»

«Sure,» Cross said.

«And you try to date Lila?» Dante said. «You're sick.» He laughed.

Cross knew this was danger of some kind. He remained silent. Dante went on, «Don't you know what your father does?»

«He collects money,» Cross said.

Dante shook his head. «You have to know. Your Dad takes people out for the Family. He's their number one Hammer.»

It seemed to Cross that all the mysteries of his life were blown away on a sorcerer's wind. Everything was very clear. His mother's disgust of his father, the respect shown Pippi by his friends and the Clericuzio Family, his father's mysterious disappearances for weeks at a time, the weapon he always carried, sly little jokes he had not understood. He remembered his father's trial for murder, dismissed from his childhood memories in some curious way the night his father had taken his hand. Then, a sudden warmth for his father, a feeling that he must protect him in some way now that he was so naked.

But over all this Cross felt a terrible anger that Dante had dared to tell him this truth.

He said to Dante, «No, I don't know that. And you don't know that. Nobody knows that.» He almost said, And you can go fuck yourself you little creep, but instead he smiled at Dante and said, «Where the hell did you get that fuckin' hat?»

Virginio Ballazzo was organizing the children's Easter egg hunt with the panache of a born clown. He gathered the children around him, beautiful flowers in Easter garb, their tiny faces like petals, skin like eggshells, hats beribboned with pink, and their faces rosy with excitement. Ballazo gave each of them a straw basket and a fond kiss and then shouted to them, «Go!» The children scattered.

Virginio Ballazzo himself was a treat to look at, his suits made in London, his shoes in Italy, shirts in France, his hair cut by a Michelangelo of Manhattan. Life had been good to Virginio and had blessed him with a daughter almost as beautiful as the children.

Lucille, called Ceil, was eighteen years old and on this day served as her father's assistant. As she handed out baskets, the men on the lawn whistled to themselves over her beauty. She was in shorts and an open white blouse. Her skin was dark with an undertone of rich cream. Her black hair was twisted around her head like a crown, and so she stood a youthful queen created by superb health, youth, and the genuine happiness that high spirits can give.

Now out of the corner of her eye she could see Cross and Dante quarreling, and she saw that for a moment Cross had suffered a crushing blow, his mouth crumpling.

She had one basket left on her arm, and she walked over to where Dante and Cross were standing. «Which one of you wants to hunt for eggs?» she asked, her smile flashing with good humor. She held out the basket.

The two of them looked at her with dazed admiration. The late-morning light turned her skin to gold, her eyes danced in delight. The white blouse swelled invitingly and yet so virginally, her round thighs milky white.

At that moment, one of the little girls began to scream. They all looked toward her. The child had found a huge egg, as big as a bowling ball and painted with vivid reds and blues. The child had been struggling to put it in her basket, her beautiful white straw hat askew, her face wide-eyed with astonishment and resolution. But the egg broke and a small bird flew out, which is what made the child scream.

Petie ran across the lawn and scooped up the young child to comfort her. It was one of his practical jokes, and the crowd laughed.

The little girl carefully straightened her hat, then shouted in a treble voice, «You tricked me,» and slapped Petie in the face. The crowd roared with laughter as she ran away from Petie, who was still pleading for forgiveness. He caught her up in his arms and gave her a jeweled Easter Egg dangling from a gold chain. The little girl took it and gave him a kiss.

Ceil took Cross by the hand and led him to the tennis court, which was a hundred yards from the mansion. They sat in the three-walled tennis hut, its exposed side away from the festivities, so they could have privacy.

Dante watched them go with a sense of humiliation. He was very conscious that Cross was more attractive, and he felt snubbed. Yet he felt proud to have such a handsome cousin. To his surprise he found himself holding the basket, so he shrugged and joined the Easter egg hunt.

Hidden in the tennis shack, Ceil took Cross's face in her hands and kissed him on the lips. They were tender, brushing kisses. But when he put his hands under her blouse, she pushed him away. She had a brilliant smile on her face. «I wanted to kiss you since I was ten years old,» she said. «And today was such a perfect day.»

Cross was aroused by her kisses but only said, «Why?»

«Because you're so beautiful and so perfect,» Ceil said. «Nothing is wrong on a day like today.» She slipped her hand into his. «Don't we have wonderful families?» she said. Then abruptly she asked, «Why did you stay with your father?»

«It was just the way it worked out,» Cross said.

«And did you just have a fight with Dante?» Ceil asked. «He's such a creep.»

«Dante is OK,» Cross said. «We were just kidding around. He's just a practical joker like my Uncle Petie.»

«Dante is too rough,» Ceil said, then kissed Cross again. She held his hands tight. «My father is making so much money, he's buying a house in Kentucky and a 1920 Rolls-Royce. He has three antique cars now and he's going to buy horses in Kentucky. Why don't you come over tomorrow and see the cars? You always loved my mother's cooking.»

«I have to go back to Vegas tomorrow,» Cross said. «I work in the Xanadu now.»

Ceil gave his hand a tug. «I hate Vegas,» she said. «I think it's a disgusting city.»

«I think it's great,» Cross said, smiling. «Why do you hate it if you've never been there?»

«Because people throw away hard-earned money,» Ceil said with youthful indignation. «Thank God my father doesn't gamble. And all those sleazy showgirls.»

Cross laughed. «I wouldn't know,» he said. «I just run the golf course. I've never seen the inside of the casino.»

She knew he was making fun of her, but she said, «If I invite you to visit me at college when I go away, will you come?»

«Sure,» Cross said. In this game he was far more experienced than she was. And he felt a tenderness about her innocence, her holding of his hands, her ignorance of her father and the Family's true purpose. He understood that she was just staking out a tentative claim, the lovely weather, the explosion of celebration in her body of womanhood, and he was touched by the sweet, unsexy kisses.

«We better go back to the party,» he said, and they strolled hand in hand to the picnic area. Her father, Virginio, was the first to notice them and rubbed one finger against another and said, «Shame, shame,» gleefully. Then he embraced them both. It was a day Cross always remembered for its innocence, the young children chastely clad in white to announce the resurrection, and because he finally understood who his father was.