When he’d left the pub, he’d looked around but hadn’t seen her. So he’d gone back to his father’s house and spent the evening with Trey, trying not to obsess. Trying, but failing.
Only Rosa still lived with their father, and only in the summer, but only he lived out of town. Carmen, Luca, John, and Joey all had places of their own in Quiet Cove or at least nearby. So the house was quiet on Sunday. They’d had a dinner of pasta and grilled chicken, prepared by Rosa in the kitchen and their father at the grill, and they’d finished the evening together in the living room, watching The Iron Giant with Trey, who’d watched from the snug perch of Pop-Pop’s lap.
After Trey’s bath and bedtime, once he was tucked in and sleeping, Carlo, feeling restless and scattered, grabbed the leash off the hook in the kitchen. Rosa was cleaning up, emptying the dishwasher, and she looked up when Elsa began her joyful going-for-a-walk dance.
“Kinda late, isn’t it?” She was young, his baby sister, but she wasn’t stupid, and the look she gave him now was suspicious. Sabina had been the subject of a lot of family talk since last night, and especially since he’d gone off to meet with her.
It wasn’t that late, not even nine o’clock. But she wasn’t talking about time. “Just need to burn off some energy before bed, Peanut.”
“Down to the beach?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Don’t know. Just walking. Don’t be a brat.” He hooked the leash on Elsa’s collar and headed toward the front door. He had no intention of walking the dog almost a mile to the beach and then two miles down shore, and then all the way back. He’d have to carry the beast before a walk that long on sandy terrain was over. But he was drawn to the shore nevertheless—and yes, with the idea that he would be closer to Bina, even if he would not see her.
As he wrapped his hand around the heavy brass doorknob, his father called, quietly, “Junior.” Carlo turned and saw him sitting in the dark living room, in his big, leather chair. In the shadows, only his legs, and the glint of his glass of scotch, were clearly visible.
“Hey, Pop. Taking the dog out for a late walk.” He turned the knob.
“You know what you’re doing?”
“Walking the dog, Pop.”
“Don’t treat me like you think I’m slow, boy. You know I’m not. You’re not, either. You know what you’re doing could take us all down.”
Carlo walked into the room, Elsa following him on her leash. He sat on the edge of the table in front of the sofa, facing his father, and the dog sat at his heel, waiting patiently for the promised walk.
He was done evading. Tomorrow, he would meet with Uncle Ben, and there would be no place for evasions. “He hurts her, Pop. He hurts her a lot.”
Carlo Sr. set his glass on the small table at the side of his chair and leaned forward. “Answer me straight, Junior. Are you fucking this man’s wife?”
He could answer this question both correctly and truthfully. “No, sir. I’m not. I want to help her.”
“And you want to fuck her.”
He was relieved that his father believed that he hadn’t yet slept with her, and that he hadn’t even paused to consider his veracity. “It’s complicated.”
His father laughed. “Always is. He’s a powerful man. He could do us real damage. The kind we don’t recover from. He doesn’t walk away from an insult.”
“I want to talk to Uncle Ben. He can’t do us damage if they’re involved. He can’t take them. Not even Auberon has that kind of juice.”
There was an electric moment of stunned silence, and then Carlo Sr. sat forward. “Christ, boy. You understand what that means, I know you do. I love my brothers. They are good to us. They are family. But their way is a hard way. I’m losing Joey to that. I can’t lose you, too.”
Joey was starting with the Uncles as a runner. Carlo Sr. had had an explosive argument with him about it after Mass, and had even called Uncle Ben to try to intercede, but it was a done deal, and it was what Joey wanted. Their father had worked all their lives to keep them away from that family business. Carlo saw that with his intention to go to the Uncles he was piling onto his father’s worry, but there was nothing he could do about it.
“I’ll be okay, Pop. I’m not going over to that side. Just asking for help.”
“You’re smarter than that, Junior. You know damn well that favors your Uncles do must be repaid with interest. Are you sure you want to give Ben a marker like that?”