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I’m awake now, aren’t I?
Got me there.I grabbed a glass of wine from a waiter and moved to one of the open tables. Dinner was being served, but I wasn’t hungry.
There was a pause, like he expected me to say something. And when I didn’t, he typed another message.What happened?
For a man so heartless, he was awfully attentive.Too much for text. But I’m about to punch some asshole in the face.
You want me to do it for you?
I knew he was serious.No. I have a nice round hook.
You have a nice round ass too.
I released a quiet laugh then covered it quickly, knowing it wasn’t the time or place for that.
What’d he do?
My little sister has a black eye. And I think I know who gave it to her.
It’s always the boyfriend.
Husband, actually.
I didn’t know you had a sister.
It’s complicated…
Call me if you need me, sweetheart. I’ll give him more than just a black eye.
He was the sunlight on a cloudy day. A piece of joy in sorrow. He was just a man I was fucking, but now, he’d become a lot more.
A friend…
So I wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb, I grabbed a plate of dinner and sat alone at the table. People talked in quiet voices, remembering Uncle Tony and his loud voice at all the parties. They all pretended that this funeral was timely, that he wasn’t killed for pushing drugs and my father’s agenda.
Disgusting.
The waiter took my dirty plate, and I crossed the courtyard to grab another glass of wine.
“Laura.” My father’s voice commanded my attention. It brought back childhood memories, when he would call my name just so he could tell me to do something. Not do my chores, but fetch him another scotch.
I turned back around and made a slow approach, feeling so much hatred in my racing heart. My eyes were locked on his, ignoring the men who stood with him.
“This is my daughter Laura.” My father introduced me to two men who were clearly brothers. Same dark hair. Same olive complexion. Same dark eyes. They both regarded me with interest, like they already knew my story. “Laura, this is Crow and Cane Barsetti. Old family friends.”
Crow stared me down like the scope of a sniper. Didn’t blink. Didn’t speak or try to shake my hand. The look was so intense, it was like he hated me. The brother behaved the same way, looking at me like horns had grown out of my skull.
I spoke to break the tension. “I haven’t spoken to Vanessa in a while. How is she?” We used to be friends, but after I moved away, it became harder to keep in touch. She had her family and her priorities, so she didn’t travel much. And of course, I’d never returned to Italy until now.
The second I mentioned his daughter, the tightness in Crow’s face released. Now his eyes shifted back and forth between mine, regarding me with a whole new attitude. “She’s well. Back at work now that my grandchildren are in school.”
“Good for her,” I said. “She’s such a talented artist.”
He gave a nod. “Yes, she is.” There was a hint of pride in his voice. A moment ago, he looked like another one of my father’s cronies, angry and hostile. And now, he looked like a person…a father.
My father never looked at me like that. It didn’t come as a surprise, but it still hurt.
I said goodbye and dismissed myself, letting the men resume their conversation, no doubt about business. Uncle Tony was probably briefly mentioned then forgotten, already old news even though we stood at his funeral that very moment.
