Just before my father went back to prison, they had made amends and put the past behind them. But then things changed, and the Gallo name was dragged through the mud, chilling the relationship again. But my uncle Sal didn’t let that affect how he treated the rest of us. He knew we were nothing like our father.
“Sal.” My father’s smiling from ear to ear. “I’ve missed you, brother.”
Somehow, I avoid spitting my mouthful of champagne all over everyone at my father’s bald-faced lie.
“You’ve always had great timing,” Uncle Sal says, and his voice is oozing attitude. Standing behind Sal are his children—Joseph, Michael, Anthony, Thomas, and Izzy—waiting for fireworks just like I am.
My father has always called his brother Sal “elitist.” He thinks Sal not only snubbed his nose at his roots, but the entire family, when he moved away to Tampa. He did, but not because he was too good for us. My dad was the biggest problem, and the pressure pushing down on Uncle Sal by association was tremendous.
I don’t blame him for leaving. I probably would’ve too if I could have. For years, I thought about changing my name, but I knew it wouldn’t help. In my neighborhood, everyone knew my father and our illustrious past, so there was no reason to go through the hassle.
I like my uncle Sal and my cousins too. I only wished they’d stuck around a little longer and been part of my life instead of setting off for the warm sand of Florida when I was young.
My father’s attention doesn’t linger too long on his brother before turning to Aunt Maria, Sal’s wife. “Mar, you’re looking better than ever.” Papa winks at her in a playful way. No doubt trying to piss off his brother.
“Tino,” Aunt Maria says at her husband’s side, but she’s not amused or feeling the same playfulness as my dad.
The funny thing is, Aunt Mar is so much like my mother, it’s not even funny. They look entirely different, but goddamn, they’re both bossy and nosy as hell.
My father’s sister looks him up and down. “Hello, Santino.” Aunt Fran crosses her arms in front of her chest. “You’re looking…” Her voice trails off and her top lip curls.
Her husband, Bear, wraps his arm around her waist like he’s trying to hold her back and whispers something in her ear.
In the short amount of time I’ve spent with Bear, I’ve found him oddly fascinating. Looking at him, you’d think he’d be all badass, but he’s just a giant teddy bear—and a complete pervert too. He has my aunt Fran all tied up in knots, which is something I thought I’d never see again.
After a bad breakup with her first husband, I never thought she’d fall in love again. She was way too fond of track suits and tennis shoes to get much more than a sideways glance from another man. But now, she’s like a different person, showing more skin than I’d ever seen her do before.
“Fran, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” Papa doesn’t dare try to touch her.
No other woman, besides my mother, scares the crap out of him quite like his sister. She’s a tiny thing, but man, the mouth on her gives me life goals.
“I need a drink,” Fran says, glancing over her shoulder at her silver fox husband. “Something stiff.”
Bear smirks, brushing his lips against her cheek. “Baby, I got…”
“Don’t say it,” Fran warns as her top lip flattens.
“What’s your poison, Aunt Fran?” I ask.
I want nothing more than to drown the insanity that is my family in the bottom of a few shots of whatever she thinks is stiff.
“Whiskey, baby.” She smiles.
“I like it when you drink tequila,” Bear whines.
I bite back my laughter. If she’s anything like me, I lose all common sense and control when I’ve had even a moderate amount of tequila. It’s not pretty, and I am never proud of the way I behave after I’ve spent the night with Mr. Cuervo.
“That’s why I want whiskey,” she tells him and cocks an eyebrow, but he doesn’t argue.
“I’ll grab a few bottles.” I place my empty glass on the bar, ready to go back to the harder stuff.
“My kinda girl,” Bear says with a wink.
Izzy, my cousin and Uncle Sal’s only daughter, catches up with me as I walk to the other end of the bar, needing a break from my family.
“You okay?” She touches my arm as I lean over the bar and realize my tits are almost spilling out of my dress.
“I’m great. Just fucking peachy.” I adjust my strapless bra which is digging into my skin and silently curse Delilah for her ugly-ass choices in dresses.
