The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
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a two-year absence the most natural thing in the world. It was as if he had never been 
away. 
“You could have written me, you could have trusted me,” she said, nestling against his 
body. “I would have practiced the New England omerta. Yankees are pretty 
closemouthed too, you know.” 
Michael laughed softly in the darkness. “I never figured you to be waiting,” he said. “I 
never figured you to wait after what happened.” 
Kay said quickly, “I never believed you killed those two men. Except maybe when your 
mother seemed to think so. But I never believed it in my heart. I know you too well.” 
She could hear Michael give a sigh. “It doesn’t matter whether I did or not,” he said. 
“You have to understand that.” 
Kay was a little stunned by the coldness in his voice. She said, “So just tell me now, did 
you or didn’t you?” 
Michael sat up on his pillow and in the darkness a light flared as he got a cigarette 
going. “If I asked you to marry me, would I have to answer that question first before 
you’d give me an answer to mine?” 
Kay said, “I don’t care, I love you, I don’t care. If you loved me you wouldn’t be afraid to 
tell me the truth. You wouldn’t be afraid I might tell the police. That’s it, isn’t it? You’re 
really a gangster then, isn’t that so? But I really don’t care. What I care about is that you 
obviously don’t love me. You didn’t even call me up when you got back home.” 
Michael was puffing on his cigarette and some burning ashes fell on Kay’s bare back. 
She flinched a little and said jokingly, “Stop torturing me, I won’t talk.” 
Michael didn’t laugh. His voice sounded absentminded. “You know, when I came home I 
wasn’t that glad when I saw my family, my father, my mother, my sister Connie, and 
Tom. It was nice but I didn’t really give a damn. Then I came home tonight and saw you 
in the kitchen and I was glad. Is that what you mean by love?” 
“That’s close enough for me,” Kay said. 
They made love again for a while. Michael was more tender this time. And then he went 
out to get them both a drink. When he came back he sat on an armchair facing the bed. 
“Let’s get serious,” he said. “How do you feel about marrying me?” Kay smiled at him 
and motioned him into the bed. Michael smiled back at her. “Be serious,” he said. “I 
can’t tell you about anything that happened. I’m working for my father now. I’m being 

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