The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
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black. Kay recognized her as Michael’s mother. She held out her hand and said, “How 
are you, Mrs. Corleone?” 
The woman’s small black eyes darted at her for a moment, then the wrinkled, leathery, 
olive skinned face broke into a small curt smile of greeting that was yet in some curious 
way truly friendly. “Ah, you Mikey’s little girl,” Mrs. Corleone said. She had a heavy 
Italian accent, Kay could barely understand her. “You eat something?” Kay said no, 
meaning she didn’t want anything to eat, but Mrs. Corleone turned furiously on Tom 
Hagen and berated him in Italian ending with, “You don’t even give this poor girl coffee, 
you disgrazia.” She took Kay by the hand, the old woman’s hand surprisingly warm and 
alive, and led her into the kitchen. “You have coffee and eat something, then somebody 
drive you home. A nice girl like you, I don’t want you to take the train.” She made Kay sit 
down and bustled around the kitchen, tearing off her coat and hat and draping them 
over a chair. In a few seconds there was bread and cheese and salami on the table and 
coffee perking on the stove. 
Kay said timidly, “I came to ask about Mike, I haven’t heard from him. Mr. Hagen said 
nobody knows where he is, that he’ll turn up in a little while.” 
Hagen spoke quickly, “That’s all we can tell her now, Ma.” 
Mrs. Corleone gave him a look of withering contempt. “Now you gonna tell me what to 
do? My husband don’t tell me what to do, God have mercy on him.” She crossed 
herself. 
“Is Mr. Corleone all right?” Kay asked. 
“Fine,” Mrs. Corleone said. “Fine. He’s getting old, he’s getting foolish to let something 
like that happen.” She tapped her head disrespectfully. She poured the coffee and 
forced Kay to eat some bread and cheese. 
After they drank their coffee Mrs. Corleone took one of Kay’s hands in her two brown 
ones. She said quietly, “Mikey no gonna write you, you no gonna hear from Mikey. He 
hide two– three years. Maybe more, maybe much more. You go home to your family 
and find a nice young fellow and get married.” 
Kay took the letter out of her purse. “Will you send this to him?” 
The old lady took the letter and patted Kay on the cheek. “Sure, sure,” she said. Hagen 
started to protest and she screamed at him in Italian. Then she led Kay to the door. 
There she kissed her on the cheek very quickly and said, “You forget about Mikey, he 

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