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Manny shot Tony an amused look, though it went a bit stiff when it landed on Lorenzo again. “What would you have us do, hmm? Never make another calzone? Forget our mother tongue? Play baseball today instead of bocce?”
“It isn’t about bocce or calzones or what language you greet someone in, as you well know.” He turned, looked his godfather straight in the eye. “You came here for opportunities. That’s what America was supposed to be about, right? Dreams of equality and freedom. But you brought with you all the things you wanted to escape. The broken systems, the preying on each other. You took the worst of Italy and planted it here.”
Manny glanced over at his daughter. “It is easy for you to judge. You never faced the things we did. It is our choices that gave you the luxury of making your own. Never forget that, Lorenzo.”
Father sidled up to them, then crouched down to examine the lay of the grass. “You two look far too serious. Let’s leave the philosophy until another time, eh? It’s a holiday.”
It seemed like the perfect holiday to discuss this particular philosophy, but Lorenzo folded his arms over his chest, the final green ball still clutched in his hand, and buttoned his lips.
Father’s shot went wide, which meant that Lorenzo and Tony would sweep the points for this round unless Lorenzo did something stupid like knock the pallino away from their balls and closer to their elders’. He opted for safety and deliberately bowled away from the white ball. From the blanket, Val and G and Sabina all whooped their approval.
Father stepped closer to Manny. “Has Sabina started talking to you again yet, Manny?”
Manny grunted and folded his arms across his chest. “Not so much as a ‘bon giornu.’”
“What? What happened with Bean?” Tony asked from behind him.
Manny didn’t answer. Their father, on the other hand, had no such qualms. “She saw him with Ava. I had just left for lunch and didn’t see Ava go up, or I would have kept Sabina down…”
What? When was that? Lorenzo pivoted to stare at the older men, looking from one drawn face to the other. What had she seen—or heard?
“It isn’t your fault, Vanni.” Manny shook his head and paced over to the collection of balls.
Tony arched a brow at Lorenzo. “She’s that upset about her father’s mistress? Guess it’s a good thing you’re a straight arrow.”
Lorenzo pressed his lips together and turned to the blanket where their fans resided. “Hey, Val. You wanna take my place?”
His younger brother jumped up as if he’d been waiting his whole life for such an offer, leaving Lorenzo free to abandon the field in favor of the blanket. He ignored Tony’s call of, “Aw, come on, Enzo! You know Val’s aim is no good!” He did, however, smile when he heard Val punch Tony in the arm for the insult.
Sabina tilted her face up when he approached, the brim of her hat casting her features in shade. She smiled, but it didn’t chase all the shadows from her eyes. “Surely you didn’t need a break already.”
Lorenzo held out his hand. “I just need a walk with my girl.”
She opened her mouth, looking poised to protest, but then just let out a breath and put her hand in his. He pulled her to her feet and tucked her fingers into the crook of his arm, aiming them toward the edge of the park. Once they were removed from the crowds of family and neighbors, she asked, “What happened? What did he say now?”
He wanted to wrap her in his arms and say they didn’t have to talk about it. He settled for brushing his arm against hers and getting straight to the point. “Papa just told us what happened on Friday at your father’s office. That Ava was there.”
She stiffened and glared straight ahead. “You know about her? Did you—did you recognize her that day by the statue? And you didn’t say anything?”
He cleared his throat. “Well…it isn’t a topic one discusses with a young lady. I knew it would upset you. Frankly, it makes me uncomfortable, too. I debated but—I’m sorry if I made the wrong choice. I wasn’t even sure who she was, not until I saw the guards. I’ve only seen her once or twice over the years, in passing.”
“Then why…?” She bit her lip and came to a halt, tugging on his arm so that he turned to face her. Her eyes were hard yet underscored with vulnerability. “They were talking for a while when I was outside the door. She was talking about us all like she knew us. And she was here, and in our church. She told me she prays for us and—I don’t know what to do with that, Enzo. What am I supposed to think about that?”
He could only shake his head. “I thought it seemed strange too, when I realized who it was. Did you ask your father?”
Her face went hard. “I’m not asking him anything. Ever again.” She spun on her heel and took off again, leaving him little choice but to move with her.
“Bean,” he started, but then he sighed to a stop. What could he really say? He couldn’t defend Manny—didn’t want to defend Manny. But for Sabina’s sake, he had to try something. “You can’t let this send you back into that empty place you were in after Serafina’s death. Please.”
She came to a halt again and managed to surprise him by turning into his chest. His arms came around her of their own volition, and he was glad of it when a shudder rippled through her. “It’s like a death. Like the papa I always loved, always thought I knew is gone. Or…or never was, I guess. He only existed in my mind. But now I don’t have that illusion anymore.”
“I know.” He’d never had quite the same revelation—they hadn’t kept the sons in the dark like they had the daughters. But even so, there was always that moment when you first saw a beam of light and realized you stood in shadow. And then, after you finally fought your way into that light, came the moment when you looked back and saw clearly for the first time how dark those shadows really were. “I could tell you he’s still there, still alive, that he loves you—and it’s true. But it doesn’t change it, I know that. He isn’t the man you want him to be, and he never was. But you don’t have to face that alone.”
He didn’t know if it would make a difference. But she lifted her face from where she’d buried it in his shoulder so that he could see the beautiful, stormy depths of her eyes.
“I don’t know what to do with all this new information. It’s just so much, Enzo, all at once. The arrest and the attack and—and then I hear my father discussing murder with his mistress, who’s obviously a lady of the night, but who I knew as a kind woman from church, and—”
“Wait.” He ran a hand down her back. Frowned. “What murder?”
