“She’s gone, bro. Toss me one of those, will ya?”
Luca was behind him. He opened the fridge again and tossed him a bottle.
“You know she’s not just gonna skitter off like the little rat she is, right? If she’s got this in her pointy little teeth—”
Carlo wheeled on him. “You think you need to tell me that? I was with her for six fucking years. I know. I know.” Jenny was not stable, and though he’d never seen the collected cool she’d started their encounter today with, he knew full well that if she was obsessing about Trey now, they had a problem. “I meant what I told her. I will kill her before I let her near him.”
“No, you will not.” Carlo and Luca both stood straight and turned to see Uncle Ben and Aunt Angie standing at the door to the mudroom, which led from the back door. “We came in to say goodbye. Wait outside, Ang. I’ll be out in just a minute.”
Aunt Angie nodded, and she, Carlo, and Luca said a polite goodbye.
“Uncle Ben, this isn’t—” Carlo stopped when his uncle put up a firm hand.
“It is a family matter, obviously. But I seem to be coming into this story in the second act. Or perhaps the third. Jenny is here? Or was?”
Luca cleared his throat. “Was.”
The look Uncle Ben sent Luca shut him up. He directed his next question to Carlo. “She left willingly?”
“On her own power, but no.”
“Luca, pour me a scotch, will you? Straight.”
“Sure, Uncle.” Luca turned and headed to the dining room, where the bar was.
Uncle Ben sighed heavily and smoothed his heavy mustache. “You didn’t let her see him. And from what I hear, you’re ready to commit murder to prevent it. You’d rather do that than ask for help from family?”
“Family? Or business?” Still fighting his rage, Carlo didn’t catch the words before they were out, or the combative tone in which they were uttered. Uncle Ben’s narrowing eyes were chilling enough for him to get control of himself.
“You and Luca owe a business debt already, boy. You put your nose in our business with your brother, and that puts you in our business. That we’ll talk about on Monday. At the warehouse. Your problem with this vagabond woman, that is family. I told you once before I would put her back where she belongs.”
Luca came back with Uncle Ben’s scotch, then got himself and Carlo another beer each.
Carlo took it with a grateful nod and poured a long swallow down his throat. “I don’t want her back, Uncle. She’ll only hurt and confuse Trey. He and I need to move on.”
“With Sabina?”
“Yes. I hope so. Uncle, I’m not asking for help. Not yet.”
“I’m not offering help yet. I need to know more before I do. I might have somebody look into a few things—just information gathering. What I am telling you is that before you resort to murder, I would hope that you would come talk to us. We have other options. And, if it comes to it, we’re better prepared for…every eventuality. Family, not business. I love you and your boy. Sabina is a delight. A good Catholic girl, too. Now putting Jenny where she belongs means getting her away. When she signed those papers, she was done in this family. You should move on.”
Carlo nodded, feeling guarded and relieved in equal measure. “Thank you.”
Uncle Ben nodded. “You both—in my office Monday morning. Ten sharp—that should give you time to check in at your job sites first, Luca. Then we talk business.” He finished his scotch. “Your father has excellent taste. I’d better get to your aunt, or I’ll be hearing for the rest of the night about how I made her sit in the car. Good night, boys.”
When they were alone in the kitchen, Luca leaned against the counter. “We just got called to the woodshed.”
“Yep. There’s a chipper in that shed. I am going to go unwire Joey’s jaw so I can break it again. Fucking ass.”
“Easy. What did we do wrong? Helped our brother, made sure the Uncles got paid. How bad could our trouble be?”
“He says we owe a debt.”
Luca dropped his head. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.” But that was a worry for Monday. Now, Carlo just wanted to get his arms around his kid. He finished his beer and went back to the party.
~oOo~
That night, Trey slept in his shark pajamas and his shark socks, inside his shark sleeping bag, hugging his giant stuffed shark while an undersea fantasy undulated in light on his walls and ceiling. He was a happy, exhausted four-year-old with a life as full as it should be.