The Name of Honor

by Susan Fanetti

  Neither did Angie. “Gimme a minute.”

  He crossed his lawn—it needed a mow—and Nick approached him as well. They met near the weeping willow tree he’d always meant to pull out.

  “Don Pagano,” he said, needing to speak first. He offered his hand.

  Nick took it and shook firmly. “Angie.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  Nick took a slow breath and cleared his throat. “I talked to Tina on Memorial Day.”

  The Pagano family did Memorial Day up big—what had started decades ago as a family cookout had become the whole town’s summer kickoff. Nick, with Donnie, and, for a time, Angie, had been planning to participate more than usual this year, as a renewed promise to protect the town and keep it healthy, after the destruction of last summer.

  Despite everything, Angie had still been invited, because by Tina’s marriage he was family with the Paganos, but he’d declined. That had been two weeks ago.

  What had Tina done in his absence? What could she possibly have done that would have Nick here now?

  “I’m sorry if she said something she shouldn’t.” An apology seemed prudent.

  Nick shook his head. “I thought so at first, but I’ve had time to think. Maybe she said something she should have.”

  “I don’t understand, don.”

  Seeming more uncomfortable than Angie thought he’d ever seen him, Nick looked around the neighborhood. His glance landed on Matt and lingered there. “I’d like to sit down and talk.”

  Angie still didn’t understand, but he nodded. “Yeah, okay. Let me talk to my brother for a sec.” When Nick nodded, Angie went back to Matt.

  Before he could say anything, Matt said, “How ‘bout I take the load myself and get take-out stuffies on the way back.”

  “You mind?”

  “Not at all, bro. That looks important.”

  Angie turned back and regarded Nick, waiting. “Yeah, I don’t know.”

  Matt slapped him on the arm. “Back in an hour or so.”

  He got in the truck, and Angie went back to Nick. “Let’s go inside. I got beer in the fridge.”

  ~oOo~

  Angie brought a couple of ‘Gansetts over, and they sat at the kitchen table he was leaving behind while the house was on the market.

  Nick faced the doors to the back yard and took a couple drinks from the bottle. Just as Angie’s confused agitation rose to its limit, Nick said, “I don’t think anybody ever hurt me like you did, Ange. Not since I was a kid.”

  Angie had been in the midst of a swig from his bottle. What was in his mouth became a stone as he swallowed. Nick had come here to punish him some more? And what did that have to do with Tina?

  There was nothing he could say, so he said nothing. He stared at the label on his bottle and stewed.

  Nick turned to him. “Angie.”

  Angie was suddenly very tired. Enough was enough. He’d been punished. He’d lost everything. And he’d moved on. No longer was he a disgraced, exiled, ex-Pagano man. Now he was the Sacco Family consigliere. And an executive at a major Boston real estate development firm.

  He looked straight at the don, met those weaponized green eyes. “What, Nick? What more punishment do you need to deal me because you couldn’t bring yourself to trust me after all my years at your side? There has not been one second of my life that I’ve been disloyal to you. I made a mistake, but that mistake never put you at risk. I deserved better than I got. So what else do you need to dump on me now?”

  “You’re right.”

  Angie stared. “Please?”

  “I was angry, and hurt. Frankly, I still am.” He looked away, to the yard again, and shook his head. “Since last summer, my time as don feels like it’s coming into its final stage. I’m getting tired, Ange. Now I need to focus on what comes after me. I thought you’d be there for Trey.”

  “I would have been.”

  Nick shook his head. “Not if you’re with Giada. That’s a tangled mess, and the Council is already in chaos. Giada is ambitious, and she’s got a lot to prove. The thought that—"

  Nick cut off, but Angie thought he’d caught the wavelength. “You’re afraid she’ll try to take control of Rhode Island when you’re gone. You’d think I’d make that easier for her?”

  “Wouldn’t you? You can’t tell me you’re not loyal to her now. And I know you’re conflicted about my making Trey.”

  “I always backed your play, Nick.”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “It’s not making Trey that I was soft on. It’s your plan for him after. Donnie would make a better don. Donnie is ready. Donnie is full-blooded.”

  “Donnie is not my blood.”

  “Then why didn’t you marry an Italian, if legacy is so important to you? Then you could have had a full-blood heir.” He’d never spoken so bluntly to Nick before, but now he had no reason for tact.

  Nick leveled a look at him. Angie gave it right back.

  “I don’t want my child in my shoes. I know what’s said about Ren, but I’ve never wanted that. I’d never allow that. Trey came to me. Yes, watching him become the man he is, I saw a way to keep the Pagano name alive, and I will be proud for him to take over for me, but I didn’t seek him out. Trey came to me. He wanted it, through no influence of mine.”

  “Everyone and everything in the Cove is under your influence, Nick.”

  “Maybe.”

  Angie laughed bitterly and finished his beer. “Well, the point’s moot. I backed your play, and never thought to do otherwise. Trey’s made, Giada’s don, and I’m a Sacco man now. The hornet’s nest has been kicked all over New England.”

  “Yes. Change is happening. More change than I’d planned. Now we’re splitting Maine among three of us and propping up a puppet in the Abbatontuono Family. I don’t want that to happen to Rhode Island. Ever.”

  “You’re the strongest don on the Council. You’re stronger than any don in New York, too. Fuck, you’re the King of New England.”

  Nick hated being called that, but he nodded. “Yes. I am. But what about when I’m gone?”

  “If that happens before Trey’s ready, Donnie will keep the seat warm for him.”

  Nick nodded. “Yes, he will. But it’s why you had to go.” He finished his beer and leaned in. “It broke my heart, Angie, but I wasn’t wrong to do it. I couldn’t have a man with ties to another don, not that close to me or my heir. I made the right call.”

  “Okay,” Angie said. “If this is all so you can tell me you were right, it was unnecessary. I had no confusion about your feelings.”

  “No. I’m here to say I was wrong.”

  “Okay, then, I take it back. Color me confused.”

  “I was angry, and I was hurt. I wanted you at my side. I wanted you at Trey’s side. But I’d told you not to do something you did anyway, and you kept it from me. That is a betrayal.”

  Angie sighed. “The defendant stipulates to the facts of the case, your honor.”

  Nick smiled a little. “Right. I took too much from you. That’s why I’m here. To say that in my anger I took too much. To say I’m sorry for that.”

  “And my baby sister made you see that?”

  “No. She made me admit it.” Nick rose and went to the patio doors. “The Cove is your hometown. Your family misses you. Your friends miss you.” He sighed. “I miss you, Angie.”

  Angie’s heart thumped noisily. He stood. “Nick?”

  Still at the glass doors, studying the yard beyond them, Nick said, “I’m glad you and Giada found each other. I’m glad you finally have love like that in your life. We can’t be partners any longer, for all the reasons I’ve said. That would put us all in an impossible situation, and you more than anyone. You belong at her side now. She needs you, and you’ll advise her well.”

  Nick paused, took a breath, turned around and faced Angie. “You can’t love Giada and sit at my side, but you can love her and be my friend. I was wrong to turn from you completely. I woul
d like to remedy that wrong and be friends again.”

  Another man might have held a grudge, but not Angie, not with Nick. He went to the don and held out his hand. “I never stopped being your friend, Nick.”

  Nick pushed his hand away and embraced him instead. Angie held him hard, remembering that last embrace, the words Nick had bitten out: You’re out. Nothing had ever hurt him like that.

  When they stepped back, Angie made a snap decision and asked the question he would have asked before all this. “Giada and I are getting married next month. Would you be my best man?”

  He’d surprised Nick. “What about Matt?”

  “I love my brother, but you know we’re not that close. I’ve always felt closer to you. I would consider it a great honor if you’d stand up with me.”

  “I consider it a great honor to be asked. Yes, I will. And congratulations.”

  ~oOo~

  As Angie walked Nick back to his car, Nick said, “The wedding bug seems to be going around. Tony and Billy went to Vegas last weekend and came back wearing rings.”

  “No shit? They didn’t do it in church?” Catholics had to be married by priests, on sanctified ground, for the Church to recognize the union.

  “They’ll have a convalidation ceremony soon enough, I expect.”

  “Huh. Well, Giada means to do ours up big.”

  Nick chuckled. “Not surprised. She likes to be noticed.”

  Thinking of his beautiful, perfectly put-together woman, Angie smiled. “Yeah. Not that she could blend in if she tried.”

  Nick looked up at the house Angie had lived in alone. “It’s a good house. Good neighborhood.”

  Angie looked up, too. “Yeah. It was home.”

  “You got a buyer lined up yet?”

  “It’s not on the market yet. I’ve been slow getting my shit together about it.”

  “Talk to Tony. He and Billy are thinking about buying.”

  It occurred to Angie that Nick knew a lot more about Tony’s personal business than he’d ever cared to know before. He thought he knew what that meant. “You brought Tony up.”

  Nick turned his head and met Angie’s eyes. “I made him capo for your men right away. He’s good at it.”

  Angie thought that was the right choice. Tony was young, but sharp, and he’d learned well from some hard lessons. He could also do really dirty work and keep it from staining the good parts of his life. That was a rare skill, and important in their line of work. He’d lead the enforcers well.

  “Donnie and I have been doing the PBS work ourselves. But I think I’m going to move Tony into your old office soon enough. There’s nobody better, and his head’s on straight.”

  Tony was quite young for that. There might be quiet grumbling from more established capos to see a thirty-one-year-old rise so quickly, but Nick would never hear those grumblings unless he went searching for them.

  “Does he have your ear?” Angie asked.

  “He will. What he has now is the spine to share his opinion, and he thinks before he does.”

  “And Trey?”

  A glimmer of reserve passed between them, and Angie knew he’d found the boundary between Nick, his friend, and Don Pagano, whom he no longer advised. “Trey will learn what he needs to learn to be ready,” was all Nick said.

  “I’m glad we talked, Nick.” Angie held out his hand.

  Nick clasped that hand in both of his. “So am I, my friend.”

  ~oOo~

  “What did you say to Nick?” Angie asked as Tina handed him a tray of chicken and beef patties ready for the grill.

  After he and Matt finished at the house, Angie had called Tony, and he’d brought Billy over. They were going to buy the house. He gave them a decent deal but was still making some money. Bing, bang, boom, done.

  Then he’d headed over to Tina and Joey’s place for dinner with the fam. Giada and Tina had already returned from Boston and were full of chatter about wedding plans. Angie wasn’t much interested, so long as it happened, but he’d enjoyed seeing Tina so awed by Giada’s pull in Boston society. She was putting together an ‘event wedding’ in six weeks.

  Now, the kids were running crazy in the yard, and Joey, Matt, and Angie had been drinking beer and setting up the grill while Tina, Matt’s wife, Leslie, and Giada chick-talked and put together the rest of the meal.

  Seeing Leslie in the yard, getting a handle on the kids, and Giada off by the fence, still on the phone ‘persuading’ some poor slob at Alden Castle to make room for their wedding reception in less than two months, Angie had leapt on the opportunity to get his sister alone, and volunteered to get the meat.

  “What do you mean?” Tina asked, trying to hedge. But he had her cornered.

  “Don’t play coy, shrimp.”

  She wiped her hands on a dish towel and tossed it over her shoulder. “I saw him at the beach on Memorial Day.”

  “I heard. But that’s not an answer. Whatever you said got Nick to come talk shit out with me, so I want to know what it was.”

  “Did you make up? Are you friends again?”

  “We did. We are.”

  “That’s great! So what does it matter what I said?”

  “Valentina. Don’t make me get nasty.”

  She stuck out her tongue. “Your threats don’t work on me, Angelo. Don’t even try.”

  He tried another tack. “Come on, Teenie.”

  “I’m impervious to your sweet-talking, too.” Then she relented—not so impervious, after all. “We were just talking. I didn’t have an agenda. I told him about selling our house, and how hard it was for you to let it go. We talked about Mamma and Daddy, and how much of Quiet Cove is the Corti family, too, how long our people have been here. I said I was worried about you, and we missed you.”

  It wasn’t like he’d hung out with his brother and sister all that much, even when he’d lived around the corner—or, for that matter, while they’d all lived in the same house.

  And yet, he was overcome with her insight and her sweet love. Considering the kind of brother he’d been most of his life, that love had to come with a giant helping of forgiveness. Whether he deserved it or not was up for debate, but he was very glad to have it.

  Angie set the tray aside and took his baby sister’s face between his hands and kissed her on the forehead. “I love you, shrimp. I’m lucky to have your little ass in my corner.”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. “I’ve always been there, Angie. Matt, too. I’m glad you finally see us.”

  Before the moment could sink fully into filial sappiness, Marco, Tina and Joey’s oldest, stomped into the kitchen on his oversized tween feet. While their youngest, Chrissy, was a tiny thing, Marco was definitely showing his tall genes. Their middle child, Gessica, looked like she might end up on the tall side, too.

  “Pop says where’s the meat?” Marco said. Already the kitchen was filling with the distinctive aroma of a twelve-year-old boy who’d been running around the back yard on a summer evening.

  Angie kissed Tina on the top of the head and let her go. “Right here, big man. Let’s get it out there and start the ritual roasting of animal flesh!”

  Marco grinned. “That’s so gross, Unc.”

  “The truth often is, nipote.”

  ~ 22 ~

  Angie stood on the small back deck of this Back Bay brownstone, his hands in his pockets, and sighed. Giada had hoped that the interior of this gorgeous house would be enough to entice him, but he was glaring at the back of the small brick garage, about fifteen feet away from the outside rail of the deck. She knew they’d pass on this house, too.

  They’d stepped out of the office for lunch and to view this house. Their agent had called to let them know it was going on the market tomorrow. Their wedding was in less than a month, and Giada had hoped to be ready to move by then, if not already moved.

  For more than two weeks, they’d been looking, but, despite their significant resources, they were struggling to find the rig
ht place, one they both could love. Well, at least they were defining their needs as they went.

  To that end, this house was so close to perfect inside—a style they both liked, classic but clean, the house’s historic details lovingly restored but not, like Enzo’s brownstone a couple blocks over, historically stymied. Enzo’s house had been impeccably tasteful but dark and heavy, in an Old-World style. The buyers there had started an update the very day they’d taken possession—which had dinged Giada’s heart a little, but she hadn’t wanted to live in her uncle’s museum, either.

  This brownstone had been fully updated, with no corner cut. The walls were painted, not papered, and done in calm, soothing, neutral colors that grabbed the natural light and threw it out for all to enjoy. The kitchen was a thing of beauty, nearly professional-grade, with, yes, Giada’s favorite scheme of marble white and pearl grey. The original peg-and-plank floors had been stripped of generations of stain and polished and restored to a new, pale sheen.

  Three floors and a finished attic. Five bedrooms. Four bathrooms. Formal living room and dining room. An office and a media room in the attic, both wired for state-of-the-art technology. A small library and sitting room. Three fireplaces.

  She loved it, and she’d hoped it made a good balance between luxury and comfort. But Angie hated being in the city, and she wanted—needed—to stay in the thick of things, and they kept tripping over that difference.

  “You don’t like it,” she said.

  “It’s beautiful. But there’s no yard, just those paving stones. And listen.”

  He looked up at the sky. So did Giada. She saw blue skies and puffy white clouds. A lovely June day. Opening her ears, she heard nothing unusual. A bird tweeting. Kids playing in a park or schoolyard nearby. A trash truck in an adjacent alley. Cars and trucks on the streets, the occasional honk of an irritated Boston driver. Sounds of life, like every day.

  “It so fuckin’ loud. Doesn’t it ever get you down, all the racket? And you can barely see the sky.”

  “I’m looking at the sky right now, bello. What are you seeing?”

  “Power lines. Everywhere.”

  Giada realized she was looking at power lines, too, but she hadn’t seen them until he’d mentioned them. They were visual static to her, who’d always lived in the city.