“No—” Mikey began. “Well, yeah. I mean, do you think he would have thought I did a good job... in hisplace?”
George watched Natalie through misty eyes. She returned his glance, tears also welling.
Sophia stood, she came around the table and put her arms around him. She hugged him from behind, kissing the top of his head. “Yes, my sweet Angelo,” she said. “Yes. You have done your father proud. Natalie and I are very grateful. Aren’t we, Natalie?”
She nodded, taking his other hand.
“But your father would have wanted you to live your life,” she continued. “You’ve put that on hold for us... for a long time. Natalie and I will be fine. We wantyouto be happy. Your father would have wanted that as well.”
“I just—” The words came spilling from Mikey now, and the tears. “I just wanted things to go on... like they were. I mean... the way he meant for them to be. I just wanted us to be happy, to be a family—his family. I just wanted things to stay the way he intended.”
“You’ve done a great job,” Natalie said. “You really have. I’m sorry if I didn’t seem appreciative because I am. I love you, big brother.”
Sophia’s hands were resting on his shoulders. Mikey crossed his arms, placing his hands on hers and looking up into her eyes. He chuckled. “So, you’re kicking me out.”
“No,” she said, lightly popping him on the forehead before crossing back to her seat. “I just want you to give up this self-imposed obligation to us. You’re in your thirties, Angelo. You should be free to do what you want to do.What George wants to do. If that includes relocation...perhaps, grandchildren,”—her tone rose with a glance to George—“so be it.”
Mikey looked at George. “What were you two talking about back in that kitchen?”
George grinned. “I want to spend more time with you, Mikey. This last week, you taking off from work and being down here more... it was nice. I could get used to it.”
Mikey heaved an enormous sigh, crossed his arms, and looked at the three of them. “And I thought I was dropping the bomb today. I wasn’t expecting this inter—, inter—what do you call it?”
“Intervention?” Natalie asked.
“Yeah, that.”
“What bomb, Mikey?” George asked. “No more tears though, please. It’s Thanksgiving.”
“Yeah, Mikey,” Natalie agreed. “Only good news.”
He took a sip of his wine. “I didn’t get the supervisor position in Bethesda. They went with someone in-house.”
George took Mikey’s face in his hands, relieved. “You had me worried. It’s all good though. You’re still my number-one mailman. That’s all that matters.”
“You didn’t let me finish, George. I didn’t get the supervisor job, but they offered me a better one—postmaster.”
“Wow. That’s amazing, Mikey. See, I told you. Interviewing and networking go hand-in-hand. Look at you.”
“It’s not local, George. It’s in Felton, Pennsylvania.”
Chapter 21
“You were right, Mikey,” said May. “It’s just as you described.”
They were strolling down a beautifully decorated street in Hampden, just west of Johns Hopkins University—Mikey, George, May, and Rachel.
“It’s aMiracle on 34th Street.” He grinned, childlike with pink cheeks in the freezing cold.
They wereactuallyon 34th Street, only in Baltimore, not New York. Mikey had been going on and on for weeks about how fantastic the lights at this traditional neighborhood event were, finally persuading them to pile into his Escort on this blustery December evening to see for themselves.
“It’s beautiful, Mikey,” said Rachel. “Everything you said it would be.”
She was looking up as they walked beneath colorful strands of lights crisscrossing the streets above, connecting the opposite sides of the street with a tunnel-like effect. There were people scattered everywhere, on both sides and in the closed thoroughfare, milling about and walking from home to home, enjoying endless electrical displays—some new, some retro, some kitschy—all blending... diverse, colorful, and unique in their setting, not too unlike a metaphor for the city itself.
It was magical, and George loved everything about it—the garishness, the crowd, the joy, and, mostly, spending time with Mikey in his hometown. It was the first Christmas he’d let himself enjoy since David’s passing, and though his loss would still bring occasional melancholy, Mikey had been a powerful antidote to his grief. George hung on his arm now, seeking not only Mikey’s warmth but his presence—further validation that his feelings were reciprocated.
“I wanted you to see it, George. Isn’t it gorgeous? I couldn’t wait to show you.”
