The Promise(214)
I looked back at Benny. “You got it, capo.”
Ben gave me a look, but he did it with his lips twitching.
I gave him a grin and informed him, “You can turn the music back up now.” Then I patted my thigh and called my dog as I moved to the front door. Gus followed me, no longer pining for Daddy. He was panting and had a doggie smile on his face, happy he was getting time with Mommy.
The music ratcheted high. I grinned as I found my cardigan, pulled it on, put the leash on Gus, and we headed out the door and across the street. I walked up Mrs. Zambino’s stoop and Gus waddled up beside me.
Once there, I juggled the leash and my hold on my can of pop and knocked on the door.
She opened it two seconds later and a half second after that, demanded to know, “What are you and that mongrel doing over here?”
I took in her perfectly coifed hair and made a mental note to ask where she got her sweater so I could get the same exact one before I replied, “We’ve come for a visit.”
“I thought Benny was puttin’ in a new kitchen for you,” she noted.
“He is,” I confirmed.
“And why aren’t you helpin’ him?”
I looked down at my awesome jeans, my fabulous top, my stylish cardie, and my magnificent high-heeled boots, then I looked at her.
“Do I look like a woman who lays tile?”
“He should have help,” she informed me.
“Manny’s gonna come over when he does the cupboards and stuff,” I informed her.
“He’s doin’ something for you, Francesca.”
“Yes, and it’s my job to look amazing to remind him why, thus…” I swept a hand down my front and let that speak the rest for me.
She rolled her eyes.
“Are you gonna let us in?” I asked.
“I suppose,” she muttered irritably and stepped aside, but did this still muttering. “You get any of that grape soda on my furniture, you’re payin’ for the cleaning.”
“I’ll be careful, Mrs. Zambino,” I said as we moved in.
We got settled in her living room. I let Gus off his leash and he went directly to Mrs. Zambino’s feet and laid on them.
She said not one word about this, mostly because she might call him “the mongrel,” but she adored him. I knew this because she came over in the mornings and demanded he go on her power walks with her.
She did this saying, “Someone has to keep that mongrel in shape,” even though she knew Benny and/or I took him on at least three walks a day.
Instead of saying something about Gus, she pierced me with her gaze. “I see Benny hasn’t put a ring on your finger.”
“Not yet.”
“He should see to that. Livin’ together without God’s sanction. Now that Manny has finally made an honest woman of his Sela, Theresa’s lightin’ candle after candle in hopes of savin’ your souls.”
I grinned at her because of her totally-didn’t-mean-it surly words and at the reminder of Manny and Sela’s awesome wedding.
I did this before I suggested, “Why don’t you do me a favor and tell him to get on that?”
She looked to her knees, murmuring, “I don’t want to disturb his work in your kitchen.”
This meant she was happy giving me shit, but she wasn’t about to give the same to Benny Bianchi. I figured this was not because she was afraid of Benny. She wasn’t afraid of anything. This was because she didn’t want to do anything that might make him stop fixing stuff around her house when it broke, which didn’t happen frequently, but her house was old so it happened regularly.
“Mrs. Zambino,” I called, and she looked back at me. I crossed my legs and held her eyes as I said straight out, “You were right.”
“I’m always right,” she returned, and I grinned again. “But what in particular was I right about this time?”
“Love is never wrong.”
She studied me, but I could swear her eyes got soft.
“I’m lucky,” I said quietly. “Havin’ an old woman across the street who’ll give me wisdom.”
She looked toward her TV.
“Mrs. Zambino,” I called again, and she looked to me. “It took a while, but you started it, so you gotta know: I look in the mirror now and see what you see.”
Yes. Definitely. Her eyes were soft.
“Frankie,” she whispered.
“Do you know what I see when I look at you?” I asked.
She pressed her lips together.
“Pure beauty,” I said softly.
That was when I saw her eyes get bright a second before I saw her chin lift and heard her mouth say, “If you think you can get into my will by bein’ sweet to me, forget it. I got enough girls fightin’ over my jewelry and handbags. I’ll pick a piece for you to get when I die and you’ll like it.”