Body of Trust - Jeannine Colette Page 0,52

program, boasting how proud the Sorrentino family was of their graduate. And then I was the first Sorrentino to ever graduate college.

When I wanted to get my own place, my mother was furious. It was Dad who stood up for me. The day I moved in, there was a bottle of champagne and a card on the kitchen counter that read, No man has ever been prouder of his daughter.

It’s easy to think your father is amazing when you have a guy like Raphael Sorrentino as yours. It’s also why you’re crushed when you find out he has never been as perfect as you made him out to be.

Sienna brings the snacks and sits with us for a while. We watch the local news on a television in the corner and then have coffee when Uncle Enzo and Uncle Joey come in with espresso and cappuccinos from Starbucks.

My thumbnail is chewed down, and my knee has yet to stop bouncing as we listen to the announcements over the speaker and stare at the door, waiting for someone to come out with an update.

My father was shot.

He’s in surgery, fighting for his life.

I can’t believe this is happening.

A doctor comes out of the swinging door, and we all stand up quickly.

“That’s Raphael’s doctor,” my mother says as she rushes to him.

My uncles are right beside her. I hold Gia back. If it’s bad news, I want her with me. We can’t hear the doctor, but we can see everyone’s reactions.

“Oh, thank God!” my mother cries, and I feel instant relief.

Gia looks up at me, concerned. “That’s good news, right?”

I look at the doctor and see him continue to talk to my mom. His words are calm, as is her demeanor as she wipes the tears from her eyes.

“Yes, it’s good.”

Gia rushes to the group, and I follow.

My father’s abdominal organs bled profusely. His pancreas and liver were injured. The trauma might have long-lasting effects, but it’s too early to tell. He’ll be in the hospital for at least a week. Most likely longer.

“We need him home,” my mother declares.

“He’ll be safe here. Clearly better than where he was,” Uncle Enzo chimes in.

“This wouldn’t have happened if he had been home, where the family could protect him. What the hell was he thinking, hiding out the way he did?” she speaks in frustration, yet I can see her eyes look down, as if she was wrong for speaking out. “I can get a nurse to stay with us and take care of him.”

“If he needs the care or in case there are complications, he’s better off staying here,” I say.

“Your mother’s right,” Enzo says. “As soon as we get the clear from the doc, we’ll move your father to the house. We’ll get the bed, the machines, the nurse, the whole nine. Just like we did with Johnny Two Toes. Remember when he rehabbed at home?” he asks my uncle Joey in a hushed tone, who nods in agreement. “She was a nice lookin’ broad too.”

I roll my eyes at the misogyny. “When can my mother see him?” I ask the doctor.

“He’s still in the intensive care recovery ward. When he wakes, we’ll allow two visitors at a time.”

I take a seat by Sienna and watch as my family hugs and laughs like they just won the lotto. From this vantage point, I look at the people I hold close to my heart. A mix of families, unrelated by blood, who make up one bond.

Not everyone works in sanitation. We have men’s clothing distributors and attorneys. Cement pourers, and home contractors. One uncle even owns a McDonald’s.

The women are warm and welcoming. They’re invested in their children’s education and who they marry. And then there’s the food. These women cook for ten when there’s only four at the table. Food, a manicure, and a prayer will fix all your problems.

There’s a reason I never thought of my family as odd. Everyone should be as lucky as I am to have so many people in their life.

I turn to Sienna, my best friend and cousin. She’s looking at our family too, and I wonder if she’s thinking the same thing I am.

“Do you think there’s something odd about our family?” I ask.

She turns to me with a tilted brow. “Your father just came out of surgery for being shot in the gut. Yeah, our family is crazy. And totally awesome.”

“Were you surprised he was shot? I mean … gunfire and bodyguards, fathers who