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Ifeel everyone staring at meas I stand at the bottom of the airport escalator, waiting for Vince to arrive. No wonder they’re looking; I am a terrifying sight. My face is even more purple than it was four days ago, after my escape from the warehouse, and my cheek is so swollen it looks like an inflated balloon. These are the bruises of a warrior woman and I’m not embarrassed by them. I wear them proudly because I want Vince to see just how tough a cookie I am. Among all these people bustling around me in baggage claim, how many of them can say that they survived a kidnapping andalsodisarmed a neighbor?
That’s how we Rizzoli women roll. No wonder my daughter’s so good at what she does.
A hand gently settles on my arm and I turn to see a young woman with kind eyes frowning at me in concern.
“Excuse me for asking,” she says softly, “but are you okay? Are you safe?”
“Oh, you mean this?” I point to my face.
“Did someone hurt you?”
“Yeah. He smacked me around pretty good.”
“Oh honey, I hope you called the police. I hope you’re pressing charges.”
“I don’t need to. He’s dead.”
My grin seems to startle her and she slowly backs away.
“But thanks for asking!” I call out as she retreats. What a nice lady, inquiring about my welfare. We should all be like her, watching out for one another, keeping one another safe. Something I already do because it comes naturally to me, even if too often it seems like I’m just meddling. I got these bruises from asking too many questions and poking my nose into other people’s business, but that’s why Larry Leopold’s still alive, why Rick Talley won’t be spending the rest of his life in jail, and why Nina Whatever-her-real-name-is no longer has to be afraid for her life.
“Angie?Oh my god, baby!”
I turn to see Vince stepping off the escalator. He drops his carry-on, grabs me by the shoulders, and stares at me.
“Oh, honey,” he says. “It’s so much worse than Jane told me.”
“You talked to her?”
“Yesterday. She called to warn me about the black eye but she never said he beat the crap outta you. I swear, if that son of a bitch wasn’t already dead I’d kill him myself!”
I take his face in my hands and gingerly lean in to kiss him. “I know you would, sweetie.”
“I shouldn’t have been in California. I should’ve been here to take care of you.”
“I think I did a pretty good job of it myself.”
“Not according to your daughter. She says you’ve turned into some kind of neighborhood watch lady. She says I should giveyou a good talking-to about the dangers of getting involved where you shouldn’t.”
“We’ll discuss this when we get home.”
But when we do get home, when we walk through the front door, I don’t feel like talking about any of that. So we don’t. Instead I bring a bottle of Chianti into the living room and I fill two glasses. I kiss him and he kisses me back. Being away in California for a month has not been good for him. His belly pokes out from all the fast food he’s been eating and from being cooped up indoors with his sister. And he looks tired, so tired, from the flight. We wrap our arms around each other and it’s as if my world has suddenly righted itself again and all the craziness of the past few weeks never happened. This is the way things should be: Vince and me, sipping wine, with dinner in the oven.
Through the window a movement catches my eye. I look across the street and see Jonas, who’s once again pumping iron. He doesn’t look my way because he knows that I know his secret. He’s not who he claimed to be. There are so many secrets I’ve discovered about my neighbors. I know who had an affair with whom. I know who is not really a Navy SEAL. I know which one was terrified for her life. And most important, I know who I can count on to gamely rush into battle at my side, even if she has to do it wheezing and coughing.
Yes, I’ve come to know them all a little better and they’ve come to know me, and even though we don’t always see eye-to-eye, and we sometimes stop talking to one another and occasionally even try to kill one another, this is my neighborhood. Someone has to keep an eye on it.
It might as well be me.
