“Dad.” There’s no warmth in Angelo’s voice.
“Pop.” Lucio nods.
“Hey, Papa,” I say because I’ve never called him anything else to his face. “You look well.”
“Daphne, you’ve turned into a magnificent creature.”
“It wasn’t overnight,” I blurt out, getting in a small dig about how long he’s been gone.
He shakes his head, knowing he’s fucked up. “It won’t happen again. I’ll never go back there. I swear.”
My ma’s practically hanging on him, happier than all of us to have her man back at her side. She’s always been a sucker for my dad. I don’t know of another woman on the planet who would put up with his bullshit, but she does somehow.
“This is your new daughter-in-law, Delilah.” Ma dips her head toward Dee.
“You’re more beautiful than the photos,” my father says.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Delilah replies and runs her hand down the front of her gown, smoothing out the material.
She looks absolutely stunning today. Don’t get me wrong, Delilah is always beautiful. But there’s something about a bride on her wedding day that’ll always knock everyone’s socks off.
Lucio and Angelo have their arms crossed, looking like bouncers at a swanky club in their polished suits and big muscles, with absolutely no smiles.
“Don’t be that way,” my father says and waves his hand in the air. He steps forward and throws his arms around my older brothers at the same time, hugging them. “I’m home now. Don’t worry about anything. I have everything covered.”
Those are the words we most fear. My dad’s idea of having everything covered always involves shady shit and a trip to the police precinct.
“Let’s get this party started,” my father says, pointing toward the DJ. My father takes my mother under his arm and wraps the other arm around Lucio. “Let’s celebrate. This is a big day.”
Lucio doesn’t even grumble. Maybe the happiness of the day is too big to let my father’s presence cast a shadow over everything. The wedding guests start to chatter again as the shock of my father’s presence starts to wear off.
“I’m changing my bet to three months,” Angelo tells me as we watch them saunter up to the bar. “He hasn’t changed a bit.”
I know Angelo’s right.
Santino Gallo’s the same proud, charismatic, law-skirting man he was five years ago when he was arrested. How he convinced the parole board to let him out nearly two years early, I’ll never understand. I’m sure he charmed them with his promises of being a changed man. Hopefully this time, he doesn’t land on every television news station in the city for whatever crap he pulls because he can’t seem to fit into society and be normal.
I crave normal.
I want simple.
But somehow, I never seem to take the easy road…a trait I clearly inherited from my parents.
No one says anything as my father hands out glasses of champagne. We’re all staring at each other, trying to pretend we’re happy to have him back. We know our mother expects us to act like we’re excited, but it’s not so easy to pull off. Deep down, we are happy to have him home and safe. How could we not feel that way? He’s our father, after all. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t hurt and anger there too.
“To Lucio, Delilah, and new beginnings.” Papa lifts his glass, waiting for each of us to do the same.
“Cincin,” my brothers say in unison, finally caving when my mother’s eyes narrow.
I chug the champagne, wishing I were buzzed already. Alcohol always seems to make awkward situations like this a little easier to swallow. Right now, I could use a little liquid courage, or as I like to call it, liquid amnesia.
“Santino.” Uncle Sal’s voice is unmistakable as he comes up behind me.
I turn toward my uncle with the champagne flute still against my lips and lift my eyebrows. I know this is about to get good.
Salvatore Gallo has very little patience for his brother…my father. They are complete opposites except for their faces. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were twins with their salt-and-pepper hair and devilish good looks. But everything else about them is totally different. Uncle Sal is a dedicated family man, where my father cares more about hisbusiness.
There was bad blood for years. They didn’t speak after a falling-out. Tempers have cooled over time, maybe because they’re getting older.
