These Tangled Vines(10)
Maria held out a hand to try and calm the situation. She spoke slowly to the woman in Italian. All I could do was sit and watch.
Another woman stormed into the room. This one was blonde and older, possibly in her early sixties, but she looked fantastic. It was obvious to me that she’d had some work done.
“She won’t leave!” the blonde woman shouted.
“I won’t leave because I live here!” the Italian woman countered.
“No. You were a guest here, and now you are no longer welcome.”
The younger woman shot back with a firestorm of emotion, hollering in Italian, until the other threw up her hands in defeat. She turned to Maria expectantly, waiting for her to intervene and say something to diffuse the situation.
“Ladies!” Maria said. “This must wait. We cannot make any decisions about who stays and who goes until we know what the lawyers have to say.”
“See?” the Italian woman snapped. “I told you!”
“They won’t have anything to say about you ,” the blonde woman said. “Anton drew up his will two years ago, and he didn’t even know you then.”
The Italian woman snapped her fingers in front of her face three times. “You think you have all the answers, but you don’t. You know nothing. Anton loved me. He told me so. You don’t know what he was thinking before he died. He might have added something. A letter. I don’t know how these things work.”
“No, you don’t know anything, because you have lipstick for brains.”
“And you are an arrogant cow! You’re only here for the money! You didn’t care about him! If you did, you would have come to visit him before he died, but you didn’t. And who was here, making sure his last days were beautiful?”
Maria stood up and spread her hands wide, like an orchestra conductor. “Tacete! We’ll talk about this later. I must introduce you to Fiona. She just arrived.”
They both fell silent and turned their fiery gazes in my direction.
The younger Italian woman stared down at me as if I were a snake in the grass. “This is she?”
I stood up and tried to smile. “Buongiorno .”
“This is Kate Wilson,” Maria said to me, gesturing toward the older blonde woman, “Anton’s ex-wife. She’s here from California. And this is Sofia Romano . . .” Maria struggled for the right words. “A friend of Anton’s.”
“I was more than a friend,” Sofia replied. To my surprise, she swept her anger aside and held out her hand with a smile. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Fiona. I see the resemblance. You have his eyes.”
“That’s what everyone keeps telling me.” I shook Sofia’s hand.
Mrs. Wilson stepped forward as well. “It’s rather unsettling, actually. So much for the suggestion that you’re not really his daughter.”
Maria let out an uncomfortable laugh, for it was a clear shot across the bow.
Mrs. Wilson’s cool green eyes swept over me from head to foot. I had the distinct feeling that the woman found me lacking in every way, especially regarding my wardrobe choices. I wore skinny jeans and a light tank top under a black cardigan—a polyester-and-spandex blend, purchased at Walmart because I was on a very limited budget.
“You certainly came a long way for this,” Mrs. Wilson said with a note of accusation in her tone.
“You did as well,” I replied. “Maria mentioned you live in California?”
“Yes.” Her arched eyebrows pulled together. “And you’re from . . . ?”
“Tallahassee, Florida.”
She let go of my hand and stepped back. “I’ve never been to the Panhandle.”
“It’s nice. You should visit sometime.”
Mrs. Wilson chuckled lightly.
By now, Sofia was marching out of the room and stomping back up the stairs.
Mrs. Wilson turned to Maria. “She’s not invited to the meeting, is she?”
“No,” Maria replied. “She’s not on the list.”
“Good. I’ll need you to buck up and help me get rid of her afterward. Unless Anton did something foolish in his final days. God help us if he did, but it wouldn’t surprise me.” She glanced briefly at me again before she left the room.
Maria sank onto her chair. “Mi dispiace . I apologize.”
I sat down as well. “It’s not your fault. Was Sofia . . . ?” I pointed a finger at the empty doorway.
“Sì. Anton’s mistress. Not the first one, but she got lucky, being the one who was with him at the end. Honestly, I can’t imagine that he would have left her anything. He wasn’t a fool, and he gave her plenty while he was alive. There was some talk about a necklace that would pay for a flat in Rome for an entire year. I suppose she did deserve something for sticking around when he was cantankerous. She certainly was devoted. Although . . .” Maria shook her head disapprovingly. “The motivation is suspect, if you understand my meaning. He wasn’t a young man, and you saw her.”
“You think she was hustling him?”
“Possibly.”
Not wanting to presume anything or pass judgment, I looked down at my hands in my lap. “His ex-wife didn’t seem to like me very much.”
Maria waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about Kate. She’s heading into her third marriage, and the second husband was even richer than Anton, so she has nothing to complain about.”