The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
305
trained to take over the family olive oil business. But you know my family has enemies, 
my father has enemies. You might be a very young widow, there’s a chance, not much 
of one, but it could happen. And I won’t be telling you what happened at the office every 
day. I won’t be telling you anything about my business. You’ll be my wife but you won’t 
be my partner in life, as I think they say. Not an equal partner. That can’t be.” 
Kay sat up in bed. She switched on a huge lamp standing on the night table and then 
she lit a cigarette. She leaned back on the pillows and said quietly, “You’re telling me 
you’re a gangster, isn’t that it? You’re telling me that you’re responsible for people being 
killed and other sundry crimes related to murder. And that I’m not ever to ask about that 
part of your life, not even to think about it. Just like in the horror movies when the 
monster asks the beautiful girl to marry him.” Michael grinned, the cracked part of his 
face turned toward her, and Kay said in contrition, “Oh, Mike, I don’t even notice that 
stupid thing, I swear I don’t.” 
“I know,” Michael said laughing. “I like having it now except that it makes the snot drip 
out of my nose.” 
“You said be serious,” Kay went on. “If we get married what kind of a life am I supposed 
to lead? Like your mother, like an Italian housewife with just the kids and home to take 
care of? And what about if something happens? I suppose you could wind up in jail 
someday.” 
“No, that’s not possible,” Michael said. “Killed, yes; jail, no.” 
Kay laughed at this confidence, it was a laugh that had a funny mixture of pride with its 
amusement. “But how can you say that?” she said. “Really.” 
Michael sighed. “These are all the things I can’t talk to you about, I don’t want to talk to 
you about.” 
Kay was silent for a long time. “Why do you want me to marry you after never calling me 
all these months? Am I so good in bed?” 
Michael nodded gravely. “Sure,” he said. “But I’m getting it for nothing so why should I 
marry you for that? Look, I don’t want an answer now. We’re going to keep seeing each 
other. You can talk it over with your parents. I hear your father is a real tough guy in his 
own way. Listen to his advice.” 
“You haven’t answered why, why you want to marry me,” Kay said. 
Michael took a white handkerchief from the drawer of the night table and held it to his 

---