Fuck, he needed out of this bed and back to his life before his balls just fell right off.
Carlo Sr. suddenly stretched and stood. “I’m gonna go for some takeout. Anybody up for calzones?
John groaned. “Cruel, Pop.” He was still on a restricted diet.
“Sorry, son. The rest of us gotta eat, though.” With no more sincere apology than that, he went to the door. As he opened it, he turned. “Don’t go getting doped up, Luca. You boys and me gotta talk.” Then he left.
Luca turned to Carlo. John did, too. “What was that?”
Carlo grinned and shrugged. “I’ll let him say.”
“But you know.”
“I’ll let him say. But hey—while he’s gone…I got called to the warehouse today.”
Luca’s heart skipped. The Uncles couldn’t be collecting on Carlo now, after all this, and in the midst of what Nick had called a ‘war.’ “Fuck. No way, Carlo.”
He shook his head. “No—it’s okay. I feel guilty, but it’s okay.”
John asked, “What do you mean?” He knew everything about the debt Carlo and Luca had incurred helping Joey out of a scrape.
He answered John’s question with his eyes on Luca. “They cleared my debt. You paid for us both.” He turned to John. “And you, too. They’re not collecting from me.”
“Thank Christ.” Relief cramped Luca’s insides.
But Carlo’s eyes were somber. “I’m sorry, Luc. It’s not fair.”
“No—it is. You have Trey, and things are fucked up.” He stopped, realizing that to say more would be to break Nick’s confidence. Then he laughed. “I told you I’d pay in blood. But I’m glad for you, big brother. Not sorry at all.”
oOo
It was nearly seven o’clock before Manny came in, and by then he had his phone in his one free hand, fighting the urge to call or text her. She came in like everything was fine, greeting his brothers and father, leaning over the bed to give him a kiss—which he pulled away from.
“Where the fuck were you? I expected you two hours ago. I was freaking out.” From the corner of his eye, he could see his father and brothers exchanging knowing looks; he ignored those assholes.
Her brow wrinkled. “Shawna had some daycare problem and had to leave early, so I took her last two clients. Then I went home and got the massage stink off me.”
“You didn’t call.”
“Sorry. I didn’t think about it. Why didn’t you, if you were worried? I’d have called you back.” She didn’t look even a little guilty.
He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t called—why he’d, in fact, resisted calling. Maybe because he was feeling much too clingy lately. But he knew full well, hurt though it might, that Manny wasn’t wired to think about how other people would react to a change in her plans. He should have called her; it had been stupid not to. He felt stupid. And needy. And he was hurting a lot, as he always did at the end of a day. So he just scowled at her.
Carlo stood. “Hey, Manny. Will you come with me to get a smoothie for Prince John? He’s been whining about not getting a decent meal.”
“A smoothie’s not a decent meal, asshole,” John grumbled.
“You don’t want one?”
John sighed. “Chocolate. Extra whipped cream. And jimmies on top.”
Clearly confused, Manny looked at Luca. “I just got here.”
“Go ahead. I’m not going anywhere. Maybe get me some fruit or something.”
She nodded, came in for a kiss—which he did not evade this time—and went off with Carlo. Those two seemed to have found their way together.
Luca turned to his father, who was still sitting between him and John. “I assume that was all a conspiracy to get her out of here so we could talk?”
“Yeah. Now that your girl’s here and you can focus, I want to talk to both of you. Carlo and Joey already know. I’ll talk to the girls later.”
A fiber of worry coiling around his gut, Luca asked, “What’s going on, Pop?”
Their father cleared his throat. “I asked Adele to marry me.”
He let that bomb drop. Neither Luca nor John spoke—Luca, for one, was not particularly surprised. They’d been ‘keeping company’ for months now. And Mrs. D. had been sniffing around for years.
“Good for you, Pop.” John sounded honestly pleased. Luca supposed he was, too. Losing their mother had nearly emptied their father out. He’d been a husk for years afterward. He deserved a new chance at that kind of happiness. And Adele was obviously devoted.
“Yeah, Pop. Congrats.”
Blowing relief out in a loud huff, Carlo Sr. went on. “And I’m moving next door. I’m not signing the house over to Carlo and Sabina, because you should all get a slice of that when the time comes, but they’re taking it over. As long as I’m alive, I don’t want squabbling over that. When I croak, you can sell it or whatever the hell you want. But until then, that’s Carlo’s house.”
John nodded, as if he was fine with it. Luca didn’t like it. It changed things too much to put Carlo in charge of the family house. They’d all grown up there. But it wasn’t his call. So, after a heavy pause, he, too, nodded.
Their father sighed again in evident relief; he’d expected a fight. It was Carmen who’d give him one, Luca knew. But he had a medical excuse to miss that confrontation.
“There’s more. I’ll be sixty-five soon. It’s time I slowed down. The arthritis in my neck is starting to wear on me. And now I’ve got—what d’ya call it—hypertension.” He held up his hands. “I’m not saying I’m ready to retire. Fuck that. But I need to take things slower.”
“Is that you or Mrs. D. talking, Pop?” Luca had figured his father to die with a hardhat on his head.
But inside, he was splitting in two—half of him rejoicing at the thought that his father might finally have come around and be preparing to give him something he’d wanted for years, and the other half just as sure that his father was going to say he was selling the company and deal the death blow to that hope.
“It’s me. Well, the doctors and Adele agree, yeah. But it’s me. I’m tired, boys. My head hurts around the clock, and the work is changing. Too much bullshit. Like I said, I’m not hanging up my belt. I just need to step back.” He gripped his knees and looked down for a moment. Luca had the impression that he was firming his resolve. “So, Luca, when you’re on your feet, you’re in charge. I’ll be around to advise you.” He laughed a little. “And get in your way. I want you to bring John up as your second.”
Rejoicing. Rejoicing was what Luca was doing inside. Rejoicing.
John cut in. “No, Pop. I’ve only been leading a crew for a few months. I’m not ready for that. I don’t even want it.”
Carlo Sr. turned to his younger son. “You’re smart, John. You can do it. It’s what I want.”
John stared at their father for a long time. Luca hoped he would stand up and say no. John didn’t want it. He loved the work, but he’d never loved the business the way Luca had. He hadn’t even wanted the foreman gig. He liked being a worker, having his hands right in it. But Luca knew that John would acquiesce to their father’s wishes. That was the son he was—the one who acquiesced.
“Yeah, okay. Okay, Pop. I hope you’re not sorry.”
“I won’t be. You’re a good boy, Johnny.” He turned back to Luca. “Before I step back, while you’re healing, I’m putting Joey on scheduling. It’s an office job, and he needs to get his life started again. It’s been more than a year, and he’s turning into a puddle in the middle of the couch down cellar. He knows the work. We’re in the winter downtime, and I’ll get him up to speed before you’re back. But if you have a problem with that, let’s talk it out.”
“I don’t. It’s a good idea. He can’t play cripple forever.”
“Agreed. I talked to him about this already. He’s on board. I think he’s getting a little sick of playing video games and feeling sorry for himself as a lifestyle.”
Luca laughed. “Hey, Pop. Thank you.”
His father nodded. “You’ll do me proud, son. I know that.”
oOo
That night, after their brother and father left, he whispered a request in Manny’s ear for a handjob. She denied him.
Then she pulled the curtain between the beds and blew him instead.
Her tongue stud was gone, but it still felt great. He made sure to make plenty of noise.
Things had started with bleak news about his knee and an infuriating visit from Nick. But all things considered, it had been an excellent day.
And he knew what he was going to do next. As soon as he was on his feet again.
As he drifted off into his medicated sleep, Manny holding his hand, Luca smiled.
26
The tree was huge.
Manny didn’t know why she’d been surprised when Carlo and their father had set it up; the Paganos weren’t subtle about anything. But standing in front of the big living room window, blocking out nearly all the light from that source, was a monstrous blue spruce. The ceilings in this house were twelve feet high, and the angel at the top grazed the plaster. The branches were packed with ornaments, from faded construction-paper doodads the siblings had obviously made as children (and some that were probably Trey’s) to shiny glass balls. The lights were multicolored. Multicolored lights and evergreen boughs festooned the mantle, the insides of the windows, the tops of bookcases, the back of the sideboard. Holly leaves wound up the bannister. Candles flickered.
The smell of evergreen wafted through the whole first floor of the house. Evergreen and cinnamon.
And outside was the same—an enormous wreath on the front door, swags of evergreen and lights across the eaves, a family of illuminated, mechanical wire reindeer grazing on the lawn.
It was like they were planning to tape a television Christmas special. All they needed was somebody standing on the roof showering fake snow down on the scene. Apparently, fake snow would be the only kind they had any hope of getting get this holiday. The winter had been dry and bitter cold.
Luca and John were both home from the hospital and on their feet, to one extent or another. It looked like John would be back to work before Luca; he was recovered except for a couple weeks more with a cast on his arm. Luca’s shoulders were healed, and his stitches, of course, were out. He was still supposed to be wearing his back brace during waking hours, but he only put it on when he was hurting enough to admit it. His knee, on the other hand, he babied. Manny thought that was a little nuts, fudging the doctor’s instructions about his back while he fussed over his knee.
His physical therapy was going well, though. He was nearly perfectly fit, and he knew how to work his body and how to listen to it. Even the doctors expected him to be one-hundred percent—or as close to it as he would get—in another month. He was pushing to make that two weeks.
He was actually a big baby about being laid up. Manny wasn’t good with bedside manner. They’d been snapping at each other a lot in the couple of weeks he’d been home.
‘Home’ for John and Luca was currently the house on Caravel Road. Luca had the guest room, and John, better able to climb stairs, had his old room on the second floor. Manny had been staying, too. It was bizarre to be in somebody else’s house and sort of living there. She’d never traveled much or had friends to sleep over with, so, with rare exceptions, the only times she hadn’t slept in her own bed had been when she was in the hospital or at a center. She’d been glad to be able to focus on Luca while she got used to the profound weirdness of living in someone else’s space. But now that she was comfortable, and he was getting grumpier about not being able to do much, there had been some yelling.
They’d always argued. Manny spoke her mind, and so did he. He was usually careful about how he said things to her, but sometimes, she’d learned, he needed to yell. She’d gotten a lot better at accepting that yelling wasn’t the same thing as aggression and that arguing wasn’t the same thing as hating. The Paganos around them totally took it in stride, and that was cool. They were all the same: everybody yelled around here.
There’d been a lot of yelling and weirdness around the same time that Luca and John had come home from the hospital. Carlo Sr. had moved next door to live with Mrs. D., which had made ample room for both Luca and John to be home for their recovery, and Manny to be there, too, but the circumstances of that move were controversial.
Especially with Carmen. She’d been positively ragey for a while and was still barely talking to either Carlo or their father. She’d skipped the Pagano & Sons Christmas party completely.
It had to do with Carlo and Sabina moving into the master bedroom and becoming, Manny supposed, the ‘masters’ of this house. Manny didn’t really get it. It was a nice house and all, but Carmen didn’t even live there. And nobody else seemed to have a problem with the change.
Luca had tried to explain about how they’d all grown up in that house and it was full of memories. He’d said that Carmen had given up a lot for the family in her life, and the house was extra important to her because of that, but it hadn’t resonated with Manny. She’d grown up in one house, too, but it was just a house. If her parents sold it the next day, she didn’t think she’d care one way or the other, as long as they stayed close. And Carlo Sr. had only moved next door. There had barely even been any moving of furniture.
Luca had been frustrated with her not getting it. They’d had their strangest fight ever, because Manny had known they were fighting but could not for the life of her figure out why. She spent that night in her own apartment, and when she’d come back to the house after work the next day, they’d simply dropped the subject.
She still didn’t understand what she’d said wrong there.
For Christmas, though, everybody’s spirits were high, and everybody was on their good behavior. Manny and Luca had intended, before hell broke loose, to spend Christmas Eve with his family and Christmas Day with hers. With Luca unable to drive yet, and Manny unable to see over the dash of his USS Overkill, they were staying with the Paganos. And Luca had asked her family to join them on Christmas Day. Even Dmitri.
Manny was starting to feel a little sorry for Dmitri. His life was kind of shit right now, and hers was better than it had ever been. He was an untrustworthy dickwad, but he was her brother and she still loved him. That was a strange thing, for love to linger when trust was gone. She wouldn’t have thought that was possible. But it was.
Christmas Eve had been all Paganos and their honeys: Carlo Sr. and Mrs. D. (Manny wondered if they would stop calling her that when she married their father); Carlo Jr., Sabina, and Trey; Carmen; Luca and Manny; John and Kristen; Joey; and Rosa, who was guy-less again. She seemed to roll through boyfriends pretty quickly. Manny thought maybe a guy you’d been boinking for two weeks hadn’t really earned the title ‘boyfriend,’ but Rosa clearly disagreed.
They’d had a big, baked ham dinner, then played board games until about ten-thirty. Then Kristen had left, and they’d all gone to church in the middle of the night. Manny was not a fan of Catholic church. Whooo, was that boring. And up, down, up, down, the whole time. She was quite sure that she would not ever be making a habit of Sunday Mass. But Luca went regularly, and it was Christmas, so she’d gone and tried to refrain from saying aloud the Rifftrax going through her head.
She thought she’d been moderately successful. Some things just had to be said.
This morning, the whole living room was packed nearly solid with gifts. After they’d come back from Mass, and Carlo and Sabina had put a sleeping Trey to bed, the family had become like a pack of cranked-out elves, scattering to the cellar, or the attic, or the backs of their cars and hauling in load after load of wrapped packages.
The Timkos had always had a small, quiet holiday. A nice meal, some presents, very low excitement. It had been nice.
The Paganos, on the other hand, were crazy for Christmas. Manny was a little overwhelmed, frankly. She wanted to hide in the mudroom with the dog, who was taking a pass on th
e chaos.
Trey was up with the dawn, and literally bouncing around the house by the time his aunts and uncles were all accounted for and he could open his gifts. Sabina, ever the hostess, passed gifts to everyone. Manny, watching, saw that the adults set their packages aside in stacks while they all focused on Trey. So she closed up the gift she’d already started to open and did the same.
When Trey had finished opening his thousand or so presents and throwing himself full-force into thank-you hugs (Manny got one of those cannonball hugs herself; that had been weird), the grownups took their turns. The living room was easily knee deep in wadded paper and ribbon. And not Manny’s knees, either. Tall knees.
Touch (The Pagano Family Book 2) Page 34