“You know the story.” Angelo waves his fork for emphasis. “Like when Abe Lincoln crossed the Atlantic in a rowboat with all his troops while the English were busy eating Christmas dinner.”
“It was the fucking Delaware River,” Getty says with a scowl. “And it was George Washington.”
“Oh, he was there too, huh?” Angelo says.
I swear, sometimes it’s tough to tell whether he’s fucking with us or if he’s truly this stupid.
“Anyhow,” Angelo says while helping himself to half the tray of chicken parmigiana, “all those fat English generals were busy eating crumpets and shit they didn’t even notice a bunch of guys rolling up in rowboats.”
“What the fuck are crumpets?” Fort wants to know.
“They’re like fucking potato chips or whatever,” Angelo says, annoyed at having his history lesson interrupted. “So the English motherfuckers were all food drunk and totally caught by surprise.”
“We’re not English motherfuckers,” Tye points out. “We’re Italian motherfuckers.”
“Are you hinting we might get caught by surprise?” I ask Angelo.
He swallows an entire glass of red wine before answering. “You never know,” he says with a shrug. “History repeats.”
He’s just talking out of his ass. I discreetly check the gun holstered at my side just in case. The next time Gabriel comes to visit his sister he’ll need to leave the shitty older brother at home. I’m maxed out on my tolerance for Angelo Grimaldi.
Cecilia shifts in her chair and clutches her belly with a grimace. All other concerns fly right out of my head.
“What’s wrong?” I put my hands on her, my heart instantly in my throat.
But she relaxes and laughs. “Nothing. The tenants are getting a little aggressive, that’s all.”
She rubs her swollen stomach and breathes deeply, in and out. The situation appears to be under control. Babies do kick, right? She’s got two of them in there.
I struggle to name all the emotions coursing through me. They just keep piling up. I feel helpless. Humbled. Dazed. And so grateful I can hardly breathe.
Fuck, I love this girl. She owns me. If she gives me another chance to prove myself I’ll work every day to be better than I have been.
Cecilia looks up and confusion swirls in her eyes when she sees how I’m staring like a lovesick fool. “Here,” she says and places my palm on her belly. “They’re just active. Everything is fine.”
She misunderstands me. She thinks my only concern is for the pregnancy. Of course this is a constant worry. But there’s so much more running through my mind and I need to say it all to her.
Gabe leans over to watch his sister and I see real concern on his face. It makes me dislike the guy a little less.
A thump beneath my palm is quickly followed by another one. Our sons, asserting themselves. Their mother, feeling every insistent kick, smiles down at her belly. Her hair flows long past her shoulders in glorious waves. She wears little makeup and I’ve always appreciated the natural glow of her skin with the smattering of reddish freckles that can’t be seen unless I get really close.
“Cecilia.” I speak my wife’s name like a prayer.
Elsewhere, Angelo is pushing everyone’s buttons with more of his bullshit. Getty roars at him to shut up or lose his tongue.
I don’t care if it’s bad manners for us to leave Christmas Eve dinner early. We’re leaving anyway.
But before I can say another word to my wife, a thunderous explosion rattles the walls and shakes the dishes. Someone who didn’t know better might believe it’s an earthquake but I know it’s not. I react instantly, dropping out of the chair and taking Cecilia to the floor with me. I cover her body with mine, just as I’ve done before.
The other men in the room have no one to protect. They are bolder about going to the windows. There’s plenty of cursing but no shooting, and no sign that the house itself has been breached.
Slowly, I lift my head and see a ball of fire lighting up the night. It’s not too close but close enough. Definitely one of the ranch outbuildings.
My father is already on his way to access the safe behind the bookcase. We keep it filled with loaded weapons and bullet proof vests. Nobody will argue this explosion could be an accident. Buildings don’t spontaneously combust, especially not with the entire security network strangely inaccessible.
Sonny was right to caution against coincidences.
I should have been better prepared.
