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If somebody took Lexy… My heart tightens just thinking about it, our little bundle of joy who always has a smile for her daddy. Dante lets out a shuddering breath, sounding like he’s ready to tear the world apart.
I turn. He stands up, drops into his seat, leans forward, and plants his forearms on his elbows. He glares across the poolside patio at Dad. Elio glances at me, his body language tight.
“Something wrong, lad?” Dad says, raising his eyebrow at Dante.
Dante swallows. “Your brother, sir. He’s wrong.”
“Excuse me?”
I laugh, like that will diffuse it, reaching out to touch Dante’s arm, though I’m not sure what good that’ll do. Dante knows better than to come at Dad like that. “Dad, he didn’t?—”
“He’s his own man, Luca,” Dad says sharply, so much like the lion he was when we were kids, not the person he became after the stroke.
“Your brother is…” Dante grits his teeth and shakes his head. “He’s?—”
Dante’s cell phone rings. He blinks, almost like he’s waking up, then looks over at Dad as if wondering why the older man is staring at him.
“Uh, sir,” Dante says.
“Tell me what my brother is,” Dad snaps, his voice husky, almost emotional. “Tell me what that poor boy is—that little boy I left behind.Ileft him. I came east. He’s right about that. He was too young to come with me.”
“Dad, that’s ancient history,” Elio says. “A man can’t spend his whole life crying about the past.”
Dad snaps, “Will you just answer that damn thing?”
Dante takes out his phone, still looking slightly lost. “Oh. Damn. Yes. Good. Thank you, Carter.” A smile turns his lips upward, almost making him look boyish for a moment. “My mom’s awake.”
That softens Dad up. He knows about the situation with Dante’s mother. He sighs, sitting back. “Go and be with her, lad, but don’t talk out of turn about Tony Marino.”
Dante stands and leaves. When he’s gone, Dad looks at Elio. “Can he be trusted?”
“He’s been with us for a long time, Dad,” Elio responds.
“But he’s your man. You brought him in.”
“He’s solid,” Elio says firmly. “He’d die for this Family.”
Dad puts his head in his hands, sighs, and then looks at me. “What do you think of Uncle Tony, Luca?” he says, talking to me almost like I’m a kid.
“What do I think of him, Dad?” I say. “In what way? He’s your brother.”
“But as a person.”
“Do you want my honest opinion?”
Dad grits his teeth, then shakes his head. “No, no, not that. Not now.”
“I always trust my instincts,” Elio says. “They’re not good about him, Dad.”
Dad looks sharply up at Elio, but sometimes, the oldest son is the only one who can say certain things. “His daughter is gone. He’s going to be erratic.”
“But he doesn’t care,” I say. “He was sitting there eating olives. He doesn’t give a damn, and he was going to marry her off to some guy. Ruby says Mia has always talked about never wanting a husband or a family.”
Dad scowls. “Ruby says, Mia says. It’s like schoolyard gossip. What sort of insane talk is that, not wanting a family? Does she want to grow old and die alone?”
“I don’t know, Dad,” I tell him, “but she didn’t even know Vito.”
Dad suddenly stands up, moving quickly for a man his age. He sighs, waving a hand. “All we can afford to focus on now is Mia. Can we keep this quiet?”
