Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Sopranos characters, and Meadow is an adult in this story.
Summary: His eyes begged me not to speak, but I couldn't control the words. "We can go far away, far away from everything. We can have a new life. A better life."
The mirror's reflection showed me what I wanted to see. In typical Italian fashion, I watched my dad grab Silvio and pat his back hard. I smirked in my cozy corner, pulling the mirror away.
"Meadow!" I heard my dad call.
Almost dropping the mirror in surprise, I scampered back to the stairs and hid it in some of Mom's plants. Smoothing my skirt, I began the descent. They were waiting for me in the kitchen. Again, typical.
My dad was quite a menacing figure with his strong shoulders and intense gaze. Almost lazily, his elbow was propped against the counter as he watched me. "Good news, Mead." I raised my eyebrow and gave a knowing smile. A smile with a touch of attitude and a hint of playfulness, a smile he had always loved. "Silvio would love to teach you guitar."
My eyes flickered towards the direction of my new instructor. He was observing me with quiet calmness. He seemed to be wondering if I was worthy of his time. But perhaps it was something else.
Silvio had always frightened me a little. As a little girl, I always wondered why I had to call him "uncle" even though there was no relation at all between us. Such curiosity prompted my discovery of the truth. The mafia.
He was a large man as well, with a powerful build and a frightening intensity in his mannerisms. And his eyes… They had always scared me. Something was wrong. Instead of light, darkness glinted off those black orbs. They were dull. Cold.
I turned my smile up a notch. "Thank you, Uncle Sil." His shoulders did their weird little shake as his mouth drooped down like a fish's. "No problem, kid."
My dad intervened. "All right! Great!" He pounded Silvio on the back again and grinned at me. "When does she start?" Silvio's features tightened in thought. "Twice a week?" he asked me. I nodded, not daring to contradict anything he proposed. "Okay. How 'bout an hour long… Wednesday and Saturday?"
I coughed, my throat dry and parched. "That's great." "One o'clock okay?" I nodded hurriedly. "Definitely." He smiled then, more relaxed for some reason. "All right."
His eyes met Dad's, and Dad patted him on the back again. Silvio took a couple steps towards me and extended his arms. Trying not to tremble, I sank into his brief embrace and marveled at his strength. It was like pressing against a firm mattress… although he was sturdy, he was also warm and comfortable. Almost reassuring. My fear instantly evaporated as I settled into his arms. But then he pulled back. In horror, I noticed that my body protested at the absence.
"See you tomorrow, kid," he said.
I snapped out of my daze and remembered who he was again. My lips tightened into a small smile as I prayed my nervousness wouldn't show. "Okay Uncle Sil."
In respect, I turned to my dad and planted a kiss on his cheek. Pulling back, I saw him beaming at me.
"Bye, sweetie." "Bye, Dad."
I turned my back and walked back to the stairs. Why? Why did I have to get the sudden urge to learn guitar? Why?
Sighing, I climbed the stairs slowly. When I was out of their sight, I sprinted. Slamming my bedroom door behind me, my head pressed against the firm wood, I felt a little safer. It wasn't until then did I realize my heart was beating like a Congo drum.