The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
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those poor benighted Italian girls who would commit suicide or make a scene after 
giving up her virginity and then being thrown over? But she kept her voice as cool as 
possible. “I see, thank you very much,” she said. “I’m glad Michael is home again and all 
right. I just wanted to know. I won’t call you again.” 
Mrs. Corleone’s voice came impatiently over the phone as if she had heard nothing that 
Kay had said. “You wanta see Mikey, you come out here now. Give him a nice surprise. 
You take a taxi, and I tell the man at the gate to pay the taxi for you. You tell the taxi 
man he gets two times his clock, otherwise he no come way out the Long Beach. But 
don’t you pay. My husband’s man at the gate pay the taxi.” 
“I couldn’t do that, Mrs. Corleone,” Kay said coldly. “If Michael wanted to see me, he 
would have called me at home before this. Obviously, he doesn’t want to resume our 
relationship.” 
Mrs. Corleone’s voice came briskly over the phone. “You a very nice girl, you gotta nice 
legs, but you no gotta much brains.” She chuckled. “You come out to see me, not Mikey. 
I wanta talk to you. You come right now. An’ no pay the taxi. I wait for you.” The phone 
clicked. Mrs. Corleone had hung up. 
Kay could have called back and said she wasn’t coming but she knew she had to see 
Michael, to talk to him, even if it was just polite talk. If he was home now, openly, that 
meant he was no longer in trouble, he could live normally. She jumped off the bed and 
started to get ready to see him. She took a great deal of care with her makeup and 
dress. When she was ready to leave she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Was she 
better-looking than when Michael had disappeared? Or would he find her unattractively 
older? Her figure had become more womanly, her hips rounder, her breasts fuller. 
Italians liked that supposedly, though Michael had always said he loved her being so 
thin. It didn’t matter really, Michael obviously didn’t want anything to do with her 
anymore, otherwise he most certainly would have called in the six months he had been 
home. 
The taxi she hailed refused to take her to Long Beach until she gave him a pretty smile 
and told him she would pay double the meter. It was nearly an hour’s ride and the mall 
in Long Beach had changed since she last saw it. There were iron fences around it and 
an iron gate barred the mall entrance. A man wearing slacks and a white jacket over a 
red shirt opened the gate, poked his head into the cab to read the meter and gave the 
cab driver some bills. Then when Kay saw the driver was not protesting and was happy 

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