Free The Scarlet Thread by Evelyn Anthony

what?”
    â€œFor the same thing as the others who didn’t get home,” Steven said. “For the right to live a decent life. You told me you were proud of the medal. You showed it off during the party. Now you accuse me. Papa, I fought because I wanted to; I had a good reason. And it taught me something.”
    Lucca waited; he was shrewd, and he sensed that bullying his son was the wrong tactic. He said quietly, “Tell me, what did it teach you? I want to know. I’ll listen. You tell me.”
    â€œIt made me sick of killing,” Steven said slowly. “I killed Germans. It didn’t make me feel better. I thought it would, but it didn’t.”
    He wasn’t looking at Lucca; he spoke almost to himself. “And I saw my own men die. I saw boys wounded, screaming for someone to shoot them to stop the agony. I saw brave men and cowards on both sides, and there were times when I didn’t know which I was myself. They gave me the Distinguished Service Cross. I tried to feel I’d earned it. I want to be proud of it. If I go back to the old ways, I can’t be proud.”
    Lucca came up and put an arm around his son’s shoulders. There were tears in his eyes. “My son, I didn’t know.… Forgive me. I didn’t know what you’d been through. Of course you earned it. But you’ve got to put all this behind you. You’ve got to start your life and look to the future.”
    Steven said slowly, “I don’t want the old life, Papa.”
    Lucca went on holding him. He was patient, he felt so much love for his son. He’s wounded , he told himself. Only it doesn’t show . “What life do you want?” he asked him. “You want to leave us? You want to leave the family?”
    â€œNo,” Steven said. “I love you and Mama and Piero. You’re all I’ve got now. It’s the way we do business: I can’t go back to it.”
    â€œYou knew we had to be rough at times,” his father reminded him. “I never asked you to do anything like that. That was Piero’s side of the business. You were the clever one, the graduate, the son who could make music out of a balance sheet. And anyway, it’s changed. Times are different now. We’re respectable, legitimate.”
    He hugged Steven close. Wounds healed, even the invisible ones. Time was what was needed.
    He said softly, “We don’t need to break heads, Steven. We oil wheels.” He rubbed his finger and thumb together. “It works better. So you don’t need to worry. I need you, my son. It’s been hard without you. I need you to take some of the burden off my shoulders. I’m not so young; I get tired these days.”
    â€œI could go into business,” Steven said. “I could try banking.”
    Lucca kept control. “You could. You could go out into the world and do whatever you wanted. But it would break my heart. Do me a favor. Come into the office next week and put in a few hours, just to straighten out some problems for me. And I swear to you, it’s respectable, legitimate.” He looked at his son and pulled a wry grimace. “Well, almost legitimate,” he said. “We may have to bend the rules a little. Sometimes. But no violence. No hurt to anyone. That’s all in the past.”
    Steven said at last, “Let me think about it; give me a little time.”
    â€œAll the time you need,” his father promised. “Just an hour or so next week, that’s all I ask.”
    He opened a bottle of wine with his son and they talked of Piero’s coming marriage. She was a good girl, from a neighboring family. They’d known each other since childhood. “There’ll be children,” Lucca said. “Your mama will like that. And she’ll steady Piero down. That’s all he needs, a good wife and a family.”
    Later, Lucca had a stern word with his younger son.