At Peace (46 page)

Vinnie’s body jerked then he clapped. “Right,
table five. Food. A big pie. Specialty of the house. I’m makin’ it
myself.”

He turned and we followed him through the
heaving restaurant, every table and booth with people at it. The
tables were covered with red and white checked tablecloths and the
floors were wood, dark with age and use but still shining. On the
tables there were wicker-wrapped wine bottles with candles at the
top and wax dripping down. The food on the tables I passed looked
fantastic and seeing it I realized I wasn’t hungry, I was
starving.

Then my eyes caught on the walls. They were
painted a warm, buttery yellow and covered in pictures, some small,
some large, some medium-sized, looking thrown up randomly but I
knew it was random like my terracotta pots on my deck were random.
They’d been hung with care.

All were black and white. And, on closer
inspection, they all had the same group of people in them. Some
pictures of just one person, others one or two, others whole
crowds. Most were candids, a very few were posed.

But they were all of family, I knew this just
by looking at them.

They’d been taken over years. There were
babies, toddlers, kids, young adults, a family growing up, its
history covering the walls of Vinnie’s Pizzeria.

I could see Theresa in them, Vinnie,
Manny.

And I could see Cal, from little boy to full
grown man.

Vinnie led us to the only empty booth in the
place and ordered, “Pile in, we’ll get you drinks.”

He ordered it and Vinnie was the kind of man
you listened to but the photos had captured me, especially Cal in
them, and I didn’t move. I was staring at the eight by ten black
and white picture that was hanging on the wall over the booth.

They were in the restaurant, standing by the
hostess station. Two young boys, maybe thirteen, fourteen, around
Keira’s age, dark-haired, tall, already showing the promise of the
handsomeness that would soon be theirs. They were standing side by
side. One, his eyes lighter gray in the black and white photo, was
staring straight into the camera, grinning huge but wicked. He had
his arm slung around the shoulders of the other boy, who was partly
bent forward and turned, his face in profile and the camera caught
him laughing.

Cal, the one grinning straight on and one of
Vinnie’s kids. Maybe the murdered cousin, Vinnie Junior.

If this was cousin Vinnie, it was true as Cal
had said, they were definitely close. I knew this by the smile, the
laughter, the casual, close, affectionate way Cal had the young man
in his hold.

The thought of Cal as a kid was startling,
seeing it even more so but what was freaking me out was seeing his
perfect, boyishly handsome face without the scars, carefree and
absolutely happy.

I’d never seen it like that, never, nothing
even came close.

“Is that you, Joe?” Kate asked and I tore my
eyes from the photo to see both my daughters staring at it.

“Yeah, girl,” Cal answered.

Kate’s head swung around so she could smile
up at him. “Wow, you were cute.”

“
Cute!” Theresa cried. “Every starry-eyed
girl in a square mile radius had their eyes on my boys.” Theresa
looked at me and jerked her head to the picture. “That’s my oldest
son with Cal, Vinnie Junior.”

Yep, like I thought, cousin Vinnie.

“
I guessed that,” I said softly and at my
tone, she flinched. It wasn’t a big flinch but I caught it, I knew
what it meant and I wondered if the pain ever went away.

Considering my back-to-back losses of Tim and
Sam, it sucked to see Theresa’s flinch and know, even after seven
years, it didn’t.

She held my gaze, hers getting soft as it
swung to Cal then to me and I knew she knew Cal had told me about
Vinnie. I also knew she read far more into this than was the truth
because her face lost that hint of sadness and spread into a
glamorous smile.

“Sit down, sit down,” Uncle Vinnie urged and
the girls scrambled in, both on one side as I slid into the other,
Cal coming in beside me.

Vinnie turned and yelled across the
restaurant, “Bella! We need breadsticks here and antipasto, on the
double, yeah?”

“Got it, Vinnie!” Bella yelled back.

“I’ll get drinks,” Theresa muttered and moved
away without asking what we wanted.

“We’ll get your belly full, Vi, you and your
girls, just relax,” Vinnie promised, his eyes on me. I nodded, he
nodded back and then he followed his wife.

I was happy to eat, more than happy,
especially if the food tasted half as good as it looked.

But at that moment, I was in ecstasy to be
off my foot, it was killing me.

Manny pushed into the booth beside Kate and
both Kate and Keira stared at him, goggle-eyed.

“So, how long you stayin’?” Manny asked
Cal.

“Leavin’ after dinner,” Cal answered and
Manny’s brows went up.

“
Shit, Cal, um… sorry, Vi, girls,” he
nodded at me then at the girls then he looked back to Cal, “shoot,
Cal, Ma’s gonna have a shit, I mean shoot hemorrhage you do a flyby
for dinner and don’t hang.”

“Gotta get them home, Man,” Cal told him.

“Could spend the night, leave early tomorrow,
let Ma at least make ‘em breakfast,” Manny urged.

“Not gonna happen,” Cal told him.

“She’s not gonna like it,” Manny replied.

“Vi just lost her brother, Kate and Keira
their uncle. She’ll get that they want to sleep in their own beds
tonight,” Cal returned quietly and when he did, what he said, how
he said it, the fact that he knew that, I felt it hit me like it
did when his mouth touched mine before the service after I found
out he’d warned off Mom and Dad. That feeling in my stomach, going
warm, getting soft.

“Well, I ain’t tellin’ her,” Manny mumbled
and Keira giggled so Manny flashed her a super-white smile, Keira’s
giggle died in her throat and her eyes grew dazzled.

I stopped watching my daughter’s eyes grow
dazzled when I felt Cal’s fingers bunch my skirt in a fist and pull
it up. My back went ramrod straight, my mind went blank and my hand
went down to curl around his wrist.

Manny turned back to Cal and noted, “Sweet
ride, Cal. The ‘Stang. You get rid of the ’68?”

“Ride’s Vi’s. I still got the ’68,” Cal
answered casually as if he wasn’t pulling up my skirt under the
table and my hand wasn’t tight on his wrist to fight him in this
insane effort.

“Got good taste, babe,” Manny grinned at
me.

“Thanks,” I replied but my word was
tight.

Cal had my skirt up and he leaned a bit into
me as his hand curled around the inside of my thigh and he pulled
my leg up.

I couldn’t do much but clutch his wrist since
he was stronger than me. I couldn’t exactly shout at him or wrestle
him at the table, both of which I wanted to do.

Luckily, Kate drew Manny’s attention by
asking, “What’s a ’68?”

“
Cal’s Mustang, 1968 Mustang GT. The
Bullitt
car. Freakin’ awesome,” Manny
answered and, as he did, Cal lifted my leg and I felt the side of
his shoe against my ankle. Then I felt it slide down, taking my
shoe with it.

The pump fell to the floor and when the
pressure released on my injured foot, the constant, nagging pain
I’d had since putting the damn thing on subsided and my eyes rolled
back into my head.

Heaven.

“What’s a bullet car?” Keira asked Manny
while I experienced heaven.

“
Steve McQueen’s ace ride in the
movie,
Bullitt
. The
sweetest car ever built,” Manny answered.

While this conversation went on, Cal lifted
my leg further and hooked it over his knee, yanking it up his thigh
so my skirt was hiked high, my calf and foot were dangling between
his legs and then he leaned into me.

Whispering, he ordered, “You let Manny go get
your other shoes or I carry you out. Your choice, buddy.”

I pulled my head back and glared at him,
at the same time I tried to jerk my leg away but his hand was still
at my inner thigh and it tightened so I got nowhere.

When I didn’t answer, Cal asked, “What’s it
gonna be?”

I kept the pressure on his hand but he didn’t
let go.

“Vi?” he prompted.

“Shoes,” I hissed.

Cal grinned and muttered, “Good choice.” Then
he turned his head to Manny, leaning back and reaching into his
pocket. “Man, do me a favor. There’s a pair of shoes on the floor
of Vi’s Mustang, can you bring ‘em in?”

Manny looked at Cal then me and said
hesitantly, “Sure.”

“Mom cut her foot. She’s got stitches but
she’s still wearin’ her pumps which makes her limp more than she
normally limps. Joe doesn’t like that,” Kate explained
helpfully.

“
Women are weird like that,” Keira chimed
in, defending my position even though Manny, being male, would
never understand but she was too young to know that. Though, I
figured in about five, ten years, she’d learn. “We have to be
wearing the right shoes,” she finished.

Manny stopped looking confused and he
grinned. “Then sure. We wouldn’t want
Joe
to get pissed, would we?” Cal tossed him my keys,
Manny caught them and slid out of the booth, saying, “Be
back.”

I again tried to tug my leg away. Cal’s
response was to slide his fingers into my stocking and push it down
so I froze.

“
Would you show me your
Bullitt
car?” Kate asked Cal as he leaned forward
and pushed the stocking further down my leg while lifting it to get
to my calf and ankle (and I gritted my teeth).

“Take you for a ride, girl,” Cal answered and
I stopped gritting my teeth because my mouth dropped open.

“Really?” Kate breathed.

“Yeah.”

“Can I drive it?” Kate asked.

Cal grinned which took the sting out of his,
“No.”

“I like Mom’s Mustang,” Keira informed
Cal.

“
I do too,” Cal replied and Keira glared at
Cal then at me as if Cal being a lunatic by being sweet and
thoughtful and sharing and nice was
my
fault but Cal leaned back and this was mainly because he
had the stocking free of my foot.

He dropped it in my lap, settled my leg on
his thigh and I gave him a look which should have at least have set
his hair on fire (but didn’t) and then I snatched the stocking up
and tucked it into my purse.

“
Drinks!” Aunt Theresa shouted as she made
it to the table with a tray of drinks. “For the girls,” she
announced, setting two Shirley Temples in front of Kate and Keira,
two girls that were beyond Shirley Temples but, then again,
I
would drink those Shirley
Temples because the bottoms were filled with maraschino cherries,
at least half a dozen of them, and they were more red than pink so
I knew they were full of syrup. “Beer for Cal,” she went on,
plonking a bottle of beer in front of Cal. “And Chianti, for
cara
mia,
” she
finished, putting a huge-bowled glass of red wine in front of me
then plunking the bottle next to it.

“Thanks um… Theresa,” I said.

“
Aunt
Theresa,” she corrected on a smile. “Breadsticks
are comin’ outta the oven, antipasto platter’s up, Bella’s gettin’
it. Gotta check on my customers but I’ll be back.” Then she bustled
off and we all watched her, even the girls turned in their
seats.

Then the girls turned back.

“Your family’s cool,” Kate told Cal.

“
Yeah girl, they are,” Cal told Kate and he
meant this, I knew it by the way he said it, deep,
weighty.

Kate knew it too because her eyes got soft as
she looked at Cal then her soft eyes came to me.

I didn’t need to know this about Cal. I
didn’t need to meet his family, see how he was with them, how they
were with him, how nice it was, even beautiful. Furthermore, my
daughters didn’t need to see it.

But I didn’t have any choice, Cal didn’t give
me one and that pissed me off.

I tried to yank my leg away again but Cal
just kept hold as Bella swept through, dropping a basket of long,
poofy breadsticks on the table, a little bowl of marinara sauce at
the side and a huge antipasto platter full of salami, pancetta,
olives, artichokes, mushrooms and slices of cheese.

I decided to ignore Cal and concentrate on
breadsticks. I grabbed one and found it was warm. Then I dipped it
into the marinara sauce and took a huge bite. It was coated with
buttery garlic, the bread light but doughy, the marinara tangy and
spicy, the whole thing utterly delicious.

It took effort but I managed not to roll my
eyes in delight.

“
These are
great!
” Kate said through a full mouth then shoved her breadstick
back in the marinara, double dipping like Cal was Tim or Sam and
this was allowed. Then she took another huge bite.

“They are,” Keira stated, her mouth full too
but, even so, I could tell she didn’t want to admit this in front
of Cal but she couldn’t help herself, that was just how good they
were.

During my last bite, Cal’s hand lifted my leg
and he leaned into me, hooking it over my other leg so they were
crossed. I looked at him to see he was looking at something across
the restaurant, a small smile playing at his mouth and my eyes
followed his.

That’s when I saw a man, tall, not as tall as
Cal, but taller than Manny and Vinnie. He was wearing a skintight
white t-shirt, jeans and he had a long, white apron wrapped around
his waist. The tee miraculously had no tomato sauce stains on it.
The apron was covered with smears.

And he was movie star gorgeous. Beautiful
body as evidenced by his t-shirt and even the apron at his narrow
hips; thick head of black, unruly hair; roguish, dark brown eyes
rimmed with thick lashes; glamorous white smile, like his
mother’s.