The Godfather returns

“Where the hell did you learn all that?” Michael said, laughing in amazement.

“No idea whatsoever,” she said in English, rolling over and kissing him. “That was-”

He put a finger to her lips. They smiled. He was right. No need for words.

Mary wore her new Mickey Mouse ears, Cinderella dress, and Davy Crockett moccasins everywhere, every day. She was three years old and thought the bear she’d danced with was real. Anthony went around belting out note-perfect renditions of the songs that had been featured at various rides and attractions. He had the spooky ability to hear a song once and perform it. This had caused him no small amount of trouble at his kindergarten, but Kay was sure this skill would bode well for the boy in the long run. In fact her father, an opera buff, pla

Could Michael possibly know how much he was missing by being gone so much? But he loved them, too. He’d taken an obvious, visceral delight taking them to Disneyland. Anytime Michael was home, he absolutely doted on Mary. Anthony was harder for him, but it was unabashed love for Anthony that made Michael’s befuddled regard of his son so heartbreaking. Several days after their vacation, Michael had to go to New York, both for business and to see how his mother-who’d had a few complications but was back home again-was getting along. As he was packing, he called Kay to their bedroom window. Anthony had dug a big hole behind the swing set and was standing over it, alone, head down, praying.

“It’s a funeral for his coonskin cap,” Kay explained.

“You’re kidding.”

“Don’t be angry,” she said.

“I’m not angry. I’m-” He couldn’t seem to come up with a word for what he was.

“I think it’s sort of sweet.”

“That cap cost four dollars.”

“Unless there’s something more you’re not telling me, we can afford four dollars.”

He paused. Obviously there were other things he wasn’t able to tell her. They both knew that. “That’s not the point. The four dollars. Obviously.”

“Oh, really? So what is your point?”

Anthony was burying the cap, Kay knew, less out of sympathy for a dead raccoon than because several months ago on TV he’d seen a senator from Te

Michael sighed, resigned. “Think that’s real raccoon fur he’s burying?” he asked. “Or rabbit?” She kissed the top of his head. He forced a chuckle and went outside and joined Anthony. Kay watched. They stood on opposite sides of the hole from each other. Anthony looked down and didn’t seem to be saying anything. At a certain point, he broke into “Ave Maria.” Michael heard him out. He could have hardly looked more uncomfortable if he’d learned his son was actually a little green man from Mars.

It was while Michael was on that trip to New York that their half-finished house at Lake Tahoe burned down. Tom Hagen, who was back working as the family lawyer, walked over to give her the news. There had been a lightning storm. The insurance should cover everything, he assured her. There had been no damage to the foundation. Kay had done such a good job of making all the decisions that they could simply hire a few extra crews and rebuild in no time. Also, there was a mansion in Reno, a castle really, that used to belong to a railroad baron; it was being torn down to make way for a modern hotel, and Kay could have any of the fixtures she wanted. Once Kay saw this place, Hagen said, she’d end up thinking the fire was a blessing in disguise. Hagen knew she’d been hoping to move this summer, so he’d talked to the head contractor, who seemed to think it was still possible to be done by Labor Day.

“You talked to him? Before he talked to me? Or you talked to me?”

“He’s our contractor, too. For our house up there, too.”

“Does Michael know?”

“He does.”

She frowned and put her hands on her hips and stood in the doorway and did not invite him in. As of today, she’d realized she wasn’t pregnant. As of this moment, it was happy news.

“I didn’t actually talk to him,” Hagen said. “I left a message.”

“With Carmela?”

“Of course not.” He left it at that. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said.

“Don’t bet on it.”

“We’re looking into things, okay?” he said. “But, you know, rigging up a lightning storm, you have to admit, that’s pretty much God’s territory.”

“And we know it was lightning?”

“We know it was lightning.”

“And how do we know it was lightning? Did anyone see it?”

“I know you’re upset, Kay. I’d be upset, too. I am upset, and so is everyone up there.”

“Did anyone see it?”

Behind her, Mary started crying. Anthony dropped to his knees, threw out his arms, and burst into a song first introduced to the world by a melancholy cartoon jalopy named Dudley.

Book V. 1957 – 1959

Chapter 17

SO WAS KAY SORE, ” Fredo asked, leaning across an empty seat, whispering into his brother’s ear, “when she found out about the bugs?”

Michael lit a cigarette. Kay and Dea

“She doesn’t know,” Michael finally said.

“Kay’s smarter than you think. She’ll figure it out.”

Michael exhaled. He smoked with the studied cool of someone who’d cultivated the habit from watching people smoke in the movies. He’d smoked this way from the time he’d started. So

“Fredo,” Michael said, “you, of all people, should not be second-guessing me about how I handle things with my own wife.”

This was a crack about Dea

Michael narrowed his eyes.

“So the exterminator got called in, right?” Meaning, Did Neri take care of things?

“Clever doesn’t especially suit you, Fredo.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Why don’t you go dance?” Michael said. “She’d probably like that.”

Okay, so Mike didn’t want to be talking about this in public. Though it was mostly family and thus not really public. And anyway, it wasn’t something anyone listening in could have figured out. Bugs. People get bugs. They fumigate. They exterminate. Especially in Florida. The vermin a person sees down here, even in nice hotels? Forget about it. So who’s going to think twice about hearing a conversation about bugs in Miami Beach? C’mon.