The Last Don - Mario Puzo [42]
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