Footsteps(114)

But now, with Trey crying into his neck, his tiny arms nearly choking him, the rightness of the decision he’d made became clear. He was Trey’s father before anything else, and he would not set his son aside to deal with Jenny. In the simply practical and utterly philosophical realities both, he could not put his son down. His arms were too full to kill.





Carlo nodded. “I don’t want anything to scare Trey.”





“Understood. George here will drive you to the all-night diner down the road. Maybe Trey would like an egg cream? We’ll meet up with you when it’s done.”





“That sound good, Trey?” He shifted Trey in his arms so he could see his face, that bruise pushing bile through his veins again. Trey wasn’t sleeping, but he didn’t respond. He lay there, blinking, and slid both thumbs into his mouth to suck.





As Carlo stood with his now quiet, limp son in his arms, Uncle Lorrie asked, “There anything you want to say to her?”





Was there anything he wanted to say to the woman he’d once loved, who’d borne the beautiful son in his arms? To that woman, he might have something to say. But that woman was a mirage. Maybe she’d never been real.





The woman who’d abandoned them? Who’d taken his son from his family at gunpoint? Who’d hit him and scared him? For her, words were both inadequate and unnecessary. There was no vocabulary sufficient to express his rage, his hatred, or the debilitating fear and loss he’d experienced on this day.





And there was nothing he needed to say to a woman so soon to leave this life. As far as Carlo was concerned, she was dead already.





And Trey was in his arms again.





“No. I’m not letting him go for anything. Just end it and let’s go home. Please.”





~ 24 ~





Though he was still unconscious, Joey had stabilized while Carlo and the Uncles were on their errand to collect Trey, and the family had scheduled shifts at the hospital so that people could get sleep or food, or could work. Peter had rented a car and gone back to Providence, taking Rosa back with him. She did not want to miss her first week of classes.





That had caused a ruckus with her siblings and father, but in the end, no one stopped her from going back to Brown. Of all the Paganos, Rosa was the one Sabina enjoyed least. She was a pleasant young woman, for the most part, but she was badly spoiled and self-centered. More than once, Sabina had heard one of the siblings refer to Rosa as a ‘princess,’ and it was an apt description. Like the princess with the pea, she was.





Rosa and Joey didn’t get along, but it still seemed wrong for her to leave. She loved Trey deeply, Sabina knew that. At least she could have stayed to see him home safely. But instead, she fretted about missing the first week of the new college term.





Well, Sabina didn’t know about college. Maybe the first week was especially important. But she thought about what Carmen had told her: If you care about Trey and Joey, and about Carlo, you stay with the other people who do. Even if it hurts. That’s family. Rosa needed the same wisdom.





But she was gone. Carmen and John had taken the first shift at the hospital, and everyone else dispersed, but only to their homes nearby. Luca had taken Carlo Sr. and Sabina back to the house. Carlo Sr. had put his arm around her and said, “Come on, honey. Let’s go home.”





Home. Was this house her home already? Was that the right thing?





No matter. Is was a real thing, she thought. A true thing. Not quite three months since she’d gotten free of her stark, lonely, debasing life with Auberon, she had found herself in the bosom of a large, loving, chaotic, complicated family.





Carlo Sr. was weak with fatigue and stress, and he allowed himself to be persuaded to go to bed when they got ‘home’—after a deep glass of scotch. It was nearing dawn, so Luca left to get the shifts going for the work day. Sabina, unable to sleep, and knowing Trey and Carlo would be home in a few hours, made a pot of strong coffee and then busied herself tidying up, while Elsa followed her around the house. The housekeeper had been there while she and Joey and Trey were out, but still Sabina cleaned the clean kitchen and fluffed the fluffed throw pillows in the living room. She went up to Trey’s room and set up his bed with his shark sleeping bag and all his shark things. She took the dog outside and swept the swept patio. And then she simply wandered the house.





It was a beautiful, old arts and crafts house. Carlo had told her that his father had restored it all, nearly single-handedly, and every room showed his tender care. The heavy walnut woodwork and gleaming wide plank floors, the leaded glass windows, some with stained glass, others with period-true wavy glass, the flagstone fireplace—even after more than three decades and six wild children, the house showed little wear. There were some places in the house—the smaller bedrooms, the mudroom, the rathskeller in the cellar, where there was a wet bar and a game and TV room—that had been lived hard in, but the family seemed to treat the rest of the house with respect. The rooms were used every day, but they were never ill-used. The resulting effect was a perfect balance between beauty and comfort.