I think not, Cecco.”
“But, you could introduce the girl to my older brother.” He flashes Piero a look through the rearview mirror.
“Some of us still respect our women like we did back home. Learn to cook like Uncle Piero. I might introduce you.”
“Thank you.” Piero measures his words. “Will you be needing cash for your new lady friend?”
“No.”
He reaches into his blazer, removing a checkbook.
“Piero, I love you. No.”
“This is for Toni’s detective program. We’re proud of her. Thirteen years old, with such a good head on her shoulders. Hurts my heart that Little Mina has missed so much. Take it, Santino. We all take care of our family, not just you.”
“No . . .”
“Your mother still hates me.” His mouth pulls in pensive. “With your pa gone, my little sister has shunned the family, Santi.”
“Talk to her for us,” Cecco says.
“Cecco,” Piero says his name slowly. “She’s our sister. These are things you don’t ask of family. Are you sure about the pocket change?”
“I’m sure—”
“Or are you still shaking your ass?” Cecco laughs.
“Last night was my last night, thank you very much.”
Piero taps his checkbook against the leg of his tailored pants before setting it aside. “I sense you and your lady friend are on the fritz. You had a smile from here to Sicily the other night. Where’d it go?”
“We’ll be good once I see her.”
“No. Santino, you’re a prideful young man,” Piero replies. “You help your ma and niece. You must tell her what happened. A heart-to-heart goes a long way.”
I nod, though I don’t feel right sharing my niece’s business. When they drop me off, I redial Gina. My heart is clutched in my chest as I await her answer.
I let myself into my mother’s house. The stairs shoot straight up behind the living room, and there’s a kitchen to one side.
At the sink, bubbles and steam swirl around as Ma pours dishwashing liquid.
“Nonna!” Toni comes jogging down the stairs. “Nonna, I already washed the breakfast dishes. . .”
She eyes me. Her bottom lip drops. We both instinctively stop my ma from placing her hands into the scalding water.
“Ma, what are you doing?” I order.
“I’m washing . . .” Ma glances around, voice dying down. “There were dishes here, Toni. I made sausage strata for breakfast. Santi, I saved some of the casserole for you, too.”
Toni chides, “Yes, Nonna. I brought you lunch in bed then washed all the dishes. I was about to cook dinner.”
Ma’s stomach growls furiously. “Oh, that’s it. Not wash! I needed to cook dinner.”
She claps her hands together when I plant my palms over her withered fingers. “Sit, Ma. I’ll cook.”
Toni’s creeping back upstairs when I call her down.
“Where’s the nurse? I pay Maria to come every day of the week.” I fork a hand through my hair.
“Nonna hates her.”
God, it’s all I can afford, I groan. “I’m guessing if you weren’t here, the nurse would have called me or stayed like she’s paid too. So, where’s your dad?”
“Working . . .”
“On a Saturday night?”
“Honest to God, Uncle Santa.” I roll my eyes as she uses the affectionate nickname I will protest against for the rest of my life.
“Where’s he working, Toni?”
“Carlos had—”
My laugh cuts her off.
“I swear to you, Uncle.”
“I’m sorry,” I grumble. Apparently, her dad lied to her. Big Tony is just that, big and dumb. Carlos gave him an assignment once for The Pipeline. Answer a designated cell phone, take down names, addresses, the sort of party a woman was interested in—simple stuff.
He had male dancers an hour away from venues. Cowboys arrived at parties where clients sought police officers or doctors. Carlos almost chewed me a new asshole for hiring Tony. The guy forgot he was intimidated by me until I gave him the look and apologized on behalf of the idiot.
“Do me a favor. Call your dad and hand me the phone. I blocked his ass for a reason, sweetheart, so I can’t see myself going against my impulse.”
“Well…” she fidgets with her fingers. “I know my dad should take care of me, but who’ll take care of Nonna?”
“Toni . . .”
My niece’s smart mouth runs away with her. “He wasn’t going to come back tonight anyway.”
“Sweetheart, just about every weeknight, you’re here. That’s beautiful; you love your Nonna. But she needs more help, and you couldn’t focus on your classes this past year. With the detective program—”
“It’s the summer, Uncle Santa. All I have is the detective camp, nothing else. Thank you again.”
“Your dad will