The Spia Family Presses On - By Mary Leo Page 0,13

head, and so wishing I was out on the front lawn with the rest of my family, taking accordion lessons from Maryann. For the first time ever, while I stood a little too close to Dickey, accordion lessons didn’t seem like such a bad idea, and even though he seemed genuine enough, I couldn’t get murderer out of my head.

Had he gotten away with it, or was he truly innocent? I couldn’t decide.

“It’s nice to see you again,” I said, but it was an absolute lie and I hoped it came out as a genuine statement.

The moment was awkward as I waited for his response. I didn’t quite know what to say to someone who’d just been released from a state prison. Usually, when I’d meet up with one of my recovering uncles or cousins, they’d have been out for a while and somewhat acclimated to their freedom. But this guy was fresh from the pen and the scars weren’t quite healed. Small talk felt weird. I mean, asking him what he’d been up to or discussing the weather didn’t quite seem appropriate.

“Hey, ease up. I didn’t come back here to cause no trouble for your mom. I got a couple things to do and after that, I’m outta here. I got no time to be hanging around this place when there’s a cute little babe waiting for me in the city. I’m getting married, ya know.”

I clenched my teeth. Who in their right mind . . . but then I flashed on the Menendez brothers—Erik got married while he was serving his life sentence to a woman who, by California law, can’t even have sex with him. “Congratulations!” I said and shook his hand.

“Yeah, ain’t that something? But don’t tell nobody. There’s a few people around here that don’t want to see your cousin happy. One in particular who wanted to see me burn, but hey, I’m a free man. I ain’t carryin’ no grudge. Grudges don’t do nothin’ but give you a bad stomach.”

A few measures of Turno Sorrento drifted our way, then a thud and a door slammed. The cuckoo announced it was half-past something as our attention immediately focused on the stairway. “Mom? We’re up here.” I called out, but no one answered and Dickey’s whole demeanor changed. I didn’t like what I saw. He looked mean.

Angry.

Intense.

Was it our conversation on grudges? Or did he hate cuckoo birds as much as I did?

I coughed. “I have something for you,” I said hoping to squash his sudden nasty disposition. “My mom kept this for you.”

I pulled the ring out of my pocket and handed it to him. He stared at it for a moment and his demeanor changed back to the charming man.

“Your mom’s a good woman.” He slipped the ring on his pinky finger on his left hand. It seemed too tight and he had to work at getting it over his large knuckle. I figured arthritis must have changed his fingers since he wore it last. He held up his hand to admire the ring. “Mark my words, baby doll, this ring is gonna give somebody real heartburn.”

I couldn’t imagine why, unless he was talking about some jealousy thing that continually ran through the family. There were a lot of bright diamonds on the horseshoe. One thing this family never could get over was one-upmanship.

“Maybe we should join everyone in the yard,” I said not wanting to be alone with him any longer. I was feeling way too weird.

“Good idea,” he said as he stepped in front of me and headed down the stairs. “And I want to apologize for callin’ you flat face when you was a kid. I thought it was funny back then, but you was a pretty little thing, and you’re a beautiful woman now.”

“Thanks,” I said, thinking maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all. Maybe he hadn’t killed his mistress, Carla DeCarlo, and he was actually on the road to recovery like the rest of my family. I needed more empathy for my relatives.

More compassion.

More therapy.

“You know,” he said. “I woulda thought you’d hate me. I know everybody else around here does.”

I followed behind him, thinking my act had worked. It wasn’t that I hated him exactly; I didn’t know him well enough to feel that emotion. I’d heard plenty about him, so scared silly was more to the point.

As we descended the stairs I noticed his perfectly manicured long nails. He’d been out of the slammer for