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“Dum Dum.”
George instantly takes a defensive stance. “Watch it, numb nuts.”
I pull the child-sized lollipop treat out of my mouth with a loud pop. “Dum Dum.” I repeat slowly.
“Why?”
“I need to quit smoking. Thought I’d try these before having to pay for nicotine gum or patches.” Heck, I’d probably just get addicted tothem.
George angles the end of his sandwich before opening his gullet as wide as possible. He takes a colossal bite and struggles to chew. My face scrunches up, and I try to focus on the grape lollipop in my mouth to tamp down the nausea. It’s seriously one of the most disgusting displays I’ve seen. Well, short of licking the mayo off of his clothes. Is he that lazy he can’t take a few smaller bites?
After what seems like an eternity, he’s finally able to maneuver the large bolus of food in his mouth enough to speak. “Why you quitting?”
“Not sure if you’ve heard. Smoking is bad for you.”
George continues to chew with a blank expression on his face. Not sure why he’s grilling me on this. He doesn’t smoke. By the looks of it, consuming large quantities of unhealthy food is his drug of choice.
“It’s bad for your lungs. It’s bad for your heart. It’s bad for your breath. And your teeth.”
He takes a smaller bite, chews, then points at my mouth. “Those will make your teeth rot out,” he says before diving back into the remains of the sub wrapped in foil. Good grief, how big is that thing? I’m clearly on the mend if I managed to watch that without puking.
“You know what I mean.”
He waggles a large sausage finger at me in an attempt to further make his point. “All I’m saying is, I bet there’s a woman’sponsible for this. You’ve been smoking as long as I’ve known you. A man don’t just start lickin’ lollies unless there’s a woman involved.”
“I don’t even wanna know what that means,” Sampson says as he walks over. “Luke, I got a guy on the phone says he’s calling about the job?”
Crunching on the lollipop in my mouth to finish it off before throwing the stick in the trash, I pat Sampson on the arm. “Thank you. The orders keep coming in and there’s no way to keep up. I put a call into a metalsmith I met in Colonial Williamsburg to see if he could put out the word we were hiring.”
“Good idea. Hey, my son might be a good fit. And he’s a quick study.”
Walking backward toward my office, I answer, “Has he done any metal work before?”
“Yeah. With me.”
“Then bring him in, and we’ll see if he works out. I’m spending too many hours here as it is.”
“I’m outta here, boss.” George waves over his shoulder as he makes haste to his car. Probably in a hurry to see what the wife made him for dinner.
“See you, George.”
“Fratellino, you working hard or hardly working?”
My head snaps up to see Matteo standing in the doorway, leaning on one arm.
“Fratello, working too hard. More business than I can handle.”
“This is a good problem. Yes?”
“It is. But it’s difficult to hire people in this line of work. Not only do they need to be metalsmiths, but they need to appreciate that what we are doing is also artistic. Any monkey can make a clock or regurgitated wall art. Then, on top of that, I need to go the added step of making sure we vet them.”
“Yes. I’m glad you’re staying careful, Luca. You can never let your guard down.”
My brother is cunning. His mind is always two steps ahead. The problem is, this constant need to stay vigilant, protect the innocent while claiming justice for those who’ve been wronged comes at a cost. He’s lost his purpose in life. His only focus is revenge. Except for Antonia, Domenico, Giovanni, and me, he’s lost his connection to family. In Italy, family is everything. Now, he lives alone. Often eats alone. He drinks alone. The one thing he’s acquired from my father he can’t walk away from is the alcohol.
Between his constant battles with the bottle and his thirst for retribution, he lost the one thing that kept him sane. His wife.
It was hard watching him push her away. She was supportive, despite his recurrent destructive behavior. He struggles with his vices, there’s no doubt. Yet the timing of some of his relapses was suspect.
