can’t even blame it on my injures, because they’re healing well. Sure, I have to use a cane for a while and, sure, Hazel delights in teasing me about it, but it’s better than the alternative.
I had Nario look into Benjamin’s claim that he wasn’t the one who killed those kids. It turns out he was telling the truth, so one afternoon I took Hazel to the grave and held her as she wept and told me about what a gifted pianist he was.
I look up now at Nario and Sil. Nario gives me a smile of encouragement. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” he says. “You need to relax, man.”
Sil makes fluttering motions with her hand. “You are worrying for no reason. Everything is going to be okay. Better than okay. You will see.”
“Yes,” I mumble, my voice oddly grave.
“You’d think you were heading for the gallows,” Nario laughs. “Look at his face, Sil.”
“A perfect picture of death.”
“Thank you,” I say with mock sincerity. “You are making me feel so much better.”
The limo comes to a slow stop outside the restaurant. I’ve never experienced butterflies before. I have killed and almost been killed and I run one of the biggest Families in the whole United States, and I have never felt butterflies in my belly before. Go fucking figure, as Hazel might say.
I click my neck from side to side. I’m sweating too much.
“Are you going to run a race?” Sil says. “It looks like you’re warming up for something.”
“Like you before your skating,” Nario says warmly. “With all your oohs and ahhs. I know the truth, woman, you’re just trying to tempt me. You need some of this Sartori loving.”
“Oh, no thanks,” Sil mutters, but she’s smiling. “I think I’ve had more than enough for a lifetime.”
“Save me, Ubert,” I growl, turning to the driver’s seat.
Ubert smiles at me in the rearview. For a while, it was touch and go with him, but Ubert is a solid bear of a man and he’s got a family to take care of. Nothing as petty as a gunshot was ever going to take him out.
“I’m afraid you’re on your own, boss.”
“You’re monsters,” I say. “All of you. Every last fucking one of you. Circle the block. I need to compose myself.”
Nario leans forward and claps my knee. “We are not circling the block. Come on. It’s time to get some fire in your belly.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “I never thought I’d see the day; Carlo De Maggio scared to talk to a woman. I guess there’s a first time for everything.”
We climb from the car and walk in the side entrance of Sapori D’Italia, the high-class restaurant I have hired out for the evening. Alda, Emily, Hazel, and Hazel’s friend Lucille are already here, sipping drinks and laughing at some joke. Candles cover every available surface.
“Oh, finally.” Hazel stands up, curtseying dramatically. “How kind of you to grace us with your presence.” She hugs me, smelling of perfume and Hazel, that just-Hazel smell that I’d be able to pick out from a line-up of a thousand scents. I kiss the top of her head and she glances up at me. “Why are you acting so weird?”
She turns in a slow circle. Everybody is just staring at her. Even her friend Lucille, sitting there in her skin-tight leggings and her halo of hair, has a smirk on her face. I’m guessing that means Emily, who’s sitting next to her, filled her in when Hazel was in the bathroom.
“I’m not acting weird,” I say.
She tilts her head as if to say: who do you think you’re kidding? But she lets it drop as she and Sil say their hellos. I sit down in the chair next to Hazel and try to ignore the way Emily is looking at me. She’s all smiles, supportive but still somehow finding a way to revel in my discomfort.
“Hello, Lucille,” I say, offering my hand over the table. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Hazel slides down next to me, placing her hand on my leg. “Where’s your cane?” she asks.
“I left it in the car,” I tell her. It’s true. My mind is currently fixated on one thing, and one thing only. “I don’t need it all the time.”
“Well, yes, you do,” she says, eyes flaring for a second. “But I’ll let you off just this once. Be warned, though, I’m giving you a piggyback ride on the way out.”