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Eleven
To seem the stranger lies my lot, my life
Among strangèrs. Father and mother dear,
Brothers and sisters are in Christ not near
And he my peace my parting, sword and strife.
—Gerard Manley Hopkins,
from "To seem the stranger lies my lot, my life”
Lorenzo slid the letter for Brother Judah into the mailbox in his building’s lobby and let a ragtime ditty spill from his lips in a whistle as he turned to the door. He needed to run over to the Mancari house to let Manny know what the senator had said, and if he timed it right, there might just be a plate of home-cooked dinner in it for him. Mama’s get-well alfredo was long gone. He turned to the door, though he hung back when it swung open—then grinned when he saw Tony stride in, looking over his shoulder.
“Tony. And Val?” Yeah, Val rushed in behind his brother, all but shoving him out of the way and letting the door fall shut behind him.
Val shot him a grin. “Hey, Enzo. Thought you could use some company. Didn’t we, Tony?”
Tony sent the baby of the family a scowl. Hard to say why, but he always found a reason to scowl at Val.
Lorenzo chuckled. “Thoughtful. But I was just heading over to Bean’s.” He needed to let Manny know he’d spoken to the senator—but more, he wanted to see Sabina.
“That’ll do too. We’ll ride with you. Won’t we, Tony?”
Tony gave Val the wide-eyed look that meant Shut up, babbo.
Lorenzo narrowed his eyes and leaned toward Val. Sniffed.
“Hey!” His brother shoved him away. “What are you doing? Do I look like a loaf of bread?”
“No, but I expected you to smell like a bathtub full of gin. Why are you so…?” He couldn’t think of a word to capture Val’s jumpiness, bright eyes, or constant glances at Tony, so he just waved a hand to encompass his whole self.
Tony snorted a laugh and hooked an arm around Lorenzo’s neck so he could pull his head down and rub his knuckles into his scalp. “If we knew that, am I right?”
The only way for Enzo to escape one of Tony’s headlocks was to dig his fingers just under his ribs. Always worked like a charm. Tony yelped and jumped away, laughing. “All right, already. We’re driving, right? Looks like it could rain.”
Did it? Clouds must have moved in while he was finishing his letter to Judah. Which was fine, he’d been ready to drive anyway, since it could be late when he came home. “Sure.”
Val pushed open the door again, and they all stepped out into the balmy June evening. The sun dipped low, bathing the buildings in gold. A beautiful evening, perfect for a stroll.
And there wasn’t a cloud in sight.
A hand-cranked siren wailed by on the next street over, whistles shrilling out along with it. Lorenzo crossed himself and muttered a quick prayer for whoever was in need as he led the way to his Nash.
Tony shook his head. “Come on, Enzo. Do you have to do that in public, where anyone can see?”
He rolled his eyes. “So sorry if my concern for whatever life is in danger embarrasses you.”
“Apology accepted.” Tony yanked open the passenger door and slid inside. Val snickered again and jumped in behind him.
Lorenzo shook his head. Something was definitely off with those two—but he didn’t really have time to sort it out now. He slid behind the wheel and soon had them on their way.
His brothers jabbered on while he drove, though Val’s laughter was too bright, and Tony kept looking out the window like he expected to see Charlie Chaplin strolling down the street. It made Lorenzo’s shoulders go a little tighter, and he was glad to finally pull up in front of the Mancari house so his brothers could tumble out of his car.
Val emerged with a hoot and a clap, then charged toward the door.
“What is wrong with him tonight?” he asked Tony.
