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The only person I don’t see is Luciano. Dante insists that our youngest brother is working on something important to the family, and I can’t help but envy him for finding a way out of the family get-togethers.
After what feels like an eternity, the day of the funeral finally arrives. It’s a somber Sunday, the 10th of December, with the ceremony commencing at 11:00 am in the familiar setting of St. Thomas More Catholic Church.
“It’s what he would have wanted,” Salvatore assures me, reminiscing about our childhood visits. “We came here a lot as kids.”
“For Easter and Christmas,” I scoff. “I can’t remember the last time Father attended Mass.”
Salvatore shrugs his shoulders before waving at someone in the distance. An older woman whom I swear I’ve never seen before is sending us pitying looks and a small wave of acknowledgment. “I think that’s our Great Aunt,” he explains, interpreting the confusion on my face.
Dante does what we should be doing. He walks right up to our alleged Great Aunt and gives her a hug. We watch as the two of them exchange pleasantries.
“What a suck-up,” I roll my eyes.
Salvatore stifles a laugh by pretending to cough into his elbow. “Come on, we should be doing more.”
“What more can we do?” I retort, waving off his suggestion. “We’ve organized the entire funeral while Dante and Lucky managed to wriggle out of their responsibilities with flimsy excuses about helping the family. I’ll stand here and look mournful, but I won’t engage in small talk with long-lost aunts, uncles, and cousins I haven’t seen in a decade. That’s Dante’s job, anyway. He’s the new head of the family.”
Salvatore shoves his hands into his pockets and gazes downward. “Speaking of Lucky, have you heard from him lately?”
“Maybe in the group chat?” I frown, trying to recall the last time we spoke. “But not for a couple of days. Where is he, anyway? He shouldn’t be allowed to get out of organizing the funeralandattending it.”
Salvatore anxiously looks in both directions, clocking what everyone around us is doing before responding. “He’s uh, he’s locked up.” I almost ruin the funeral for everyone when I turn to sharply yell‘what’at my brother. “Hey!” He hisses at me, “Keep your fucking mouth shut. Jesus.”
Dante casts us a disapproving look as though we are misbehaving. It feels as if Father is still alive, silently admonishing us.
“Come here.” Salvatore grabs my arm and hauls me to the back of the church. “First, keep it the fuck down. I can see why Dante said not to tell you.”
“Fuck Dante,” I glare. “What the hell happened to Lucky?”
Salvatore punches his fingers to his temples and starts rubbing like I’m the source of his headache. “A few nights ago, a group of guys cornered Luc in an alley. You know Lucky as well as I do. He wouldn’t have backed down even if there were a hundred of them.” There’s a desperation in Salvatore’s voice that tugs on the strings of my heart. “He doesn’t remember all the details because they beat him up pretty bad. But they broke his hand and branded him.”
The room starts spinning. I haven’t eaten anything today, but I feel nauseous. “I don’t-I can’t-I don’t understand.”
Salvatore reaches out to grab my shoulder, steadying me. “You okay, Nic?”
I manage to nod, but it does little to alleviate my uneasiness. My feet feel numb, and the spinning sensation persists. If it doesn’t stop soon, I’m going to vomit. “So, the police locked up Luciano?”
Salvatore guides me to a nearby chair, helping me sit down before I collapse. “No. The Lucatellos left Lucky for dead, but fortunately, he had enough strength left to call Dante. Dante got him to the family doctor in time, but the damage had already been done.”
The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. No wonder Luciano hasn’t been present to assist with the funeral arrangements.
“It was the Lucatellos?” I ask, confused. “How do we know?”
“Don’t lose your shit, okay?” Salvatore prefaces. “The image they burned into Lucky’s skin was the Lucatello family crest.”
The phrase‘I’m seeing red’finally makes sense. I think I literally see blood. I know I can taste it because I’m biting the inside of my cheek.
“I think you’re on the verge of losing your shit, so I’m going to need you to breathe.” He’s like a little league coach, telling me to breathe in and breathe out as if I don’t know how to control my anger.
“Lucky’s okay, Nic. Dr. Stone put him under before burning over the brand. It’ll lengthen the healing time, but at least he won’t have the Lucatello crest on his chest forever.”
The doctor burned over the brand. Jesus Christ. I got a second-degree burn on my hand once, and I wanted to chop it off. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to be burned twice in the span of a few hours. “Why did you say Lucky was locked up?”
Salvatore laughs before stretching to his full height. His knees pop as he moves, and he cracks his back from being hunched over. “Oh, he’s murderous. Even drugged up at the hospital, thedoctor had to restrain him so he wouldn’t leave and try to kill any Lucatello he could get his hands on.”
“I’d keep your little girlfriend away from him for a while.” Dante walks into our secluded area, his face filled with a dark mix of despair and loathing. “I don’t know if Luc has the self-restraint to keep from strangling her just for being related to the Lucatellos.”
I rise from the chair, the room spinning once more, but I push through the dizziness. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? He’s my brother, too.” Despite our infrequent conversations, we’re still family.
