A Heart Decision (24 page)

“And what’s the second thing?”

“Kiss me good-bye and go plan your wedding to
Ben.”

“That’s three things.”

“I asked for two things
before
you
leave.”

She sank onto his lap and twined her arms around his
neck. “Can I kiss you between now and then?”

“As often as you want, Brina,” he whispered, holding
her close. “Right up until the moment you drive away.”

~*~

“Sabrina, sweetheart, thank you for taking care of
my son,” Teresa Marino said with a hint of an accent that over
thirty-five years in America hadn’t completely erased. “How’s he
been behaving?” she asked hugging both of them.

“He’s been a model patient. Unfortunately, he fired
me, so I’ll be returning to my apartment this afternoon.”

“You know I love you no matter what,”—Teresa slapped
him lightly on the back of the head—“but why would you do something
so stupid?”

He leaned against the kitchen counter and shrugged.
“I love you too, Mama.” A visit with his mother wouldn’t be
complete if he didn’t give her some excuse to treat him like a
disobedient child. “I saw Crissy’s car in the driveway. Is she
ho—”

“Luke! I knew I heard your voice.” His youngest
sister, Cristina, dashed into the kitchen and threw her arms around
him.

“Hey, squirt, how are you?”

She shoved his shoulder. “I’m twenty-four years old.
Stop calling me that!”

He glanced at Sabrina. “How about you and my sister
go for a walk? I’d like to speak to my mother alone.”

“Sure. I wanted to talk to her, anyway, about being
one of my bridesmaids.”

“Really!” Cristina hugged her. “I’d love to. Let’s
go talk in my room. We can check out dresses on-line.” His sister
dragged Sabrina down the hall.

His mother crossed her arms over her ample chest.
“What’s so secret you had to send the girls out of the room?”

“Sabrina knows.”

“What? That you’re in love with her?”

His jaw dropped for a second. “How....who told—”

“You’re my son, Lucca. I’m not blind. When I gave
you that camera for Christmas your freshman year in college, did
you think I wouldn’t notice your best friend’s sister starred in
three-quarters of the photos you took?”

“Oh.”

“What I want to know is how can you let her marry
someone else? I love your friends like family, but BJ isn’t right
for Sabrina.”

“You
know
why, Mama.” He sank into one of the
chairs at the large round table. “That’s what I wanted to talk to
you about. I’m thinking about having the test.”

“Oh, I’m so glad.” She eased into the chair next to
him, her face beaming. At fifty-two, his mother was still an
extraordinarily beautiful woman—especially when she smiled. “If you
could just convince the twins to do it with you.”

“I said I’m
thinking
about it.” Was it all
women, or just the stubborn ones his mother had raised and/or
influenced—
like Sabrina
—who didn’t listen to what he
actually said?

He explained his deal with Ben and concluded by
saying, “So when Sabrina sends out the wedding invitations, you
need to make sure all of our family knows it may be called off at
the last minute.”

“Well, you’d better decide whether you’re having the
test soon.” She brushed away a dark tendril that had escaped the
twisted bun in which she routinely secured her long hair. “Do you
realize there’s less than twelve weeks before Christmas? What
happens if you don’t get the results in time for the wedding?”

“That’s not gonna happen. I’m planning to go for
genetic counseling as soon as possible.” He heaved a deep sigh. “If
all goes well, I should be able to decide if I’m going to be
screened by Thanksgiving. That’ll leave plenty of time to go for
premarital sessions with the priest if you’re worrying about that.
Sabrina insists she wants to marry me no matter what the outcome
is.”

“I would hope so. A woman who isn’t willing to stand
by her husband in sickness and in health has no business marrying
anyone.”

“As much as I thank God none of my family has the
damned disease, it might do her good to see firsthand what a
nightmare her life could—”

An intensely guilty look on his mother’s face
stopped him cold.

He narrowed his gaze at her. “What haven’t you told
me, Ma?”

“Nothing.” She blinked several times before her gaze
dropped sharply to the left and her breathing accelerated. “Why
would you think I’m k-keeping something from you?”

“Because I’m a detective whose been trained to tell
when someone’s lying. And right now, you’re showing all the classic
signs that you’re hiding something.” He turned her face toward him.
“Considering how deathly pale you’ve suddenly become, I suspect
it’s something big.”

“You must be thirsty.” His mother catapulted out of
her seat and yanked open the refrigerator. “Would you like some
iced tea?”

“No. And don’t change the subject. Do we have a
relative with Huntington’s who I don’t know about?”

She sank back into her chair and nodded. “Your
father’s younger brother.”

He did a double take. He wouldn’t have been
surprised to discover he had a long lost cousin twice removed with
HD. But he definitely hadn’t anticipated a relative as close as an
uncle. “Dad told us he was an orphan and had no family.”

“He wanted you to believe that. After I learned why
your father killed himself, I contacted his brother to let him know
he might also be a carrier. I wanted to find out if he knew about
it and if he’d been tested.”

“Did he know?”

“No. We confronted your grandfather together and
demanded the truth. Apparently your grandmother had passed on the
Huntington’s. She developed symptoms while she was pregnant with
your dad’s brother and then killed herself when your father was
only eight. Your grandfather didn’t want them to know what might
lay ahead for them, so he told your dad and Antonio she
accidentally overdosed on sleeping pills.”

Luke stared at his mother, letting her words sink
in. Several moments passed before his uncle’s name fully
registered.

Antonio Marino.
No way.

His surname ranked among the top ten most common in
Italy, just as Tony landed in the top five most popular first
names. So how likely was it that....

“Please tell me it’s just a huge coincidence my
uncle has the same name as one of the biggest Mafia underbosses in
the northeast.”

The same man who’d become ill about two years ago
and handed the business over to his son, Dante.

His mother turned away. “Your father and I didn’t
want any part of that life. He only lied about his family because
he was trying to protect you and your brothers and sisters.”

“So, all these years I’ve been a cop with mob
connections?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re
not
connected.
You’ve never even met the man.”

“When I enrolled in the police academy, didn’t you
think that information might be important for me to know?”

“Would it have changed your mind about a career in
law enforcement?”

“No, but—”

“I thought not. I figured it was better if you could
honestly plead ignorance in the event your relationship to Tony
ever came out.”

“Well, I can’t claim I don’t know now, can I? Does
Dad’s family have any idea that I’m a detective?”

She hesitated, opening and closing her mouth almost
as if she were trying to formulate an honest answer without
divulging the full truth.

“Damn it, Ma! Would you please give me a straight
answer? Do Tony and Dante know I’m a police officer?”

“Yes!” she blurted.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“You’re not planning to take Sabrina to see them,
are you?” she asked, anxiety infusing her voice. “She once
mentioned she took care of a little boy with Huntington’s, so she
already knows how awful it is. There’s really no reason to
introduce her to Tony.”

“I wasn’t planning to.” He tipped his head and
studied the terror in his mother’s eyes. “But since you’re so
worried I might....”

“I’m not!” she denied too vehemently for him to
believe her.

“I’ve been your son for almost thirty-three years,
Ma. I know when you’re hiding something. Now spill your guts. I
want the entire story.”

Tears welled in his mother’s eyes. “Your father
never wanted you to know.”

“But I
do
know, so what else are you keeping
from me?”

She silently shook her head.

“Are you forgetting I’m a detective and very good at
my job? If it’s something bad, wouldn’t you rather tell me yourself
than have me find out—”

“Antonio isn’t your
uncle
. That’s why I
needed to find out if he’d been tested for Huntington’s.”

“I don’t understand.” He frowned. “If he’s Dad’s
brother, who else would he be but my uncle?”

His mother stared at him wordlessly, pain and shame
etched into her features.

A hard knot formed in his gut as another possibility
flitted through his mind.

“No.” He shook his head. It wasn’t possible.

“Tony’s your
biological
father, and Dante’s
your half-brother,” she said, obviously sensing his need for her to
say the words to make it real. “I prayed Tony hadn’t inherited the
abnormal gene, so you’d be safe from the disease.”

Hearing this was like living through a nightmare.
He’d never been involved in any investigations involving Tony,
however, nine years ago, he’d helped the FBI build a RICO case
against Mario Roselli, a capo to Nunzio Marino, who was none other
than Tony’s father.

“So all of my brothers and sisters are only
half-siblings,” he said more as a statement than a question.

“
Biologically
, yes. Although, theoretically,
you could say they’re also your half-cousins. But
emotionally
, they’re the same brothers and sisters they’ve
always been to you. However you choose to think of them, you have
to know your dad loved you as his own son. He felt no differently
about you than the rest of our children.”

He shook his head, trying to make sense of what
she’d told him. “So why did Antonio Marino sire me instead of
Dad?”

A loud gasp jerked his gaze to the kitchen doorway
where Crissy had stopped short on the threshold. Sabrina slammed
into his sister’s back, almost knocking her over.

Luke cringed as Crissy stumbled a few feet into the
kitchen before catching herself on the counter. “Mama, what’s Luke
talking about?”

“It’s a long story.”

His sister dragged out a chair across from him. “We
all have lots of time.”

His mother spread her hands helplessly. “I don’t
even know where to start.”

“How about at the beginning.” Luke grabbed Sabrina’s
hand and pulled her into the seat on the other side of him. “You
might as well hear this, too, Brina. It may change your mind about
marrying me.”

“
You
?” Crissy’s gaze ping-ponged between them
and eventually landed on Sabrina. “I thought you were marrying
Ben
?”

His mom heaved a deep breath, most likely welcoming
a reprieve from dragging her skeletons out of the closet.

“Sabrina is—
maybe
,” he told his sister.
“That’s another long story that’ll keep until after Ma’s
explanation.” He turned and stared at his mother.

“Well, as you all know, I was born in Italy,” she
slowly started her story. “When I was sixteen, we lost my mother to
a bombing.”

Sabrina did a double take. “A bombing? There wasn’t
a war in Italy then, was there?”

“There was a period of socio-political terrorism in
Italy between the late sixties and the early eighties,” he
explained. “Historians call it
The Years of Lead—
probably
because of the hundreds of bullets that flew during that time.”

“Anyway, after my Mama was killed, Papà and I
immigrated to Philadelphia, where he bought a small grocery store
in the Italian market.” His mother smiled at Sabrina. “That’s how I
met my Salvatore. He was so handsome. When he came into the store
each Friday, I tried to wait on him, but my father always sent me
to stock shelves or sweep up while he handled Sal’s order.”

Luke rocked his chair back on its hind legs.
“Obviously, your old man didn’t want you to have anything to do
with Dad.”

“Right. After a couple of weeks, your dad snuck to
the back of the store before he left and asked me to meet him in
the alley.”

Sabrina’s eyebrows lifted. “Ahh, so you went behind
your father’s back.”

His mom nodded. “Sort of. I told him I was going
outside to eat my lunch in the sunshine—which was the truth. Not
long after that, it became our daily routine. I made sandwiches for
our picnics and brought an old tablecloth and used packing crates
to set up a makeshift dining set. Your dad would bring vino with
cannoli or hot zeppole from the bakery. If it rained, we would sit
in his car. When he left, he always kissed me and asked me to meet
him again the next day.”

“We get it. It was romantic.” He rotated his hand in
a circular motion. “Can we roll things along?”

She shrugged. “After a few months, Sal finally asked
my father for permission to take me to a movie.”

“So that was your first official date,” Crissy
surmised.

Their mother shook her head. “My father told him
emphatically,
no
. Of course, I was crushed.”

“Why’d he say no?” Sabrina asked.

“That’s when I learned my father had borrowed the
money from
La Cosa Nostra
to buy the store. It was
Salvatore’s job to collect the loan payment every week.”

Sabrina’s mouth dropped open.

“If you don’t know,
La Cosa Nostra
is the
Italian mafia,” Luke clarified for her.

“I know. I just never dreamed your dad was part of
the mob.”