“Get some sleep.” Her voice seemed to drift. “And then we're going Christmas shopping before we leave.”
Her laughter was the last sound I heard before fading completely.
* * *
The hidden thing that rested in the shadows came closer, threatening to kill me. My eyes snapped open, my stomach sank, my hands went clammy, and my heart pounded with enough strength to explode from my chest.
Eva’s voice was a constant reminder, summoning the dream.
There was no need to force myself to move. I did so like a man racing to find the disease and cure it.
Scarlett was still working out; she would be for probably another hour or two. I went through the usual morning routine in a haze, taking a hot shower and then throwing on a thermal shirt and a clean pair of sweatpants she had laid out for me.
The fog cleared and red lipstick appeared like magic on the mirror.You used to tug on my hair. I would kick you. Nothing much has changed, except now we kiss and makeup.
The other side said:Before you deny it, ask Eunice. She has plenty of stories to tell too.
The house seemed to buzz, alive with bodies and the different smells of breakfast. Eunice was a mean cook. She had a spread fit for a king ready for anyone willing to eat. Bacon, eggs, steaks, fried ham, grits, biscuits, pancakes, pasta, an assortment of muffins, and fresh fruit were laid out on the counter, along with carafes of coffee, milk, and freshly squeezed orange juice.
The tangy but rich scent of chicory coffee made my stomach go hollow with the memory of Eva making it. I wondered if I would always react the same when I smelled it.
Men were lined up at the table, all on their best behavior, attempting to atone for the sins of last night. Lola eyed them with eyes made of steel. They danced around her, eager to please.
What a bunch of pus—
“Brando,” she said firmly.
“Aunt Lola.” I nodded. If I didn’t call her aunt, she pinched me. “You look beautiful this morning.” She had a strong arm too. That broom was no fucking joke. Some of Rocco’s men believed she flew off in the night with it afterward.
Rocco laughed at me. Then he hurriedly stuffed more egg in his mouth when she shot him a look.
“I forgive you,” she said, “but only because your wife has! The rest.” She eyed each of them separately, alternately sending them loads of guilt and putting fear in them with her wrath. “HA!”
“Here you go, hun,” Eunice said, handing me a plate piled high with omelet. “I remember the way you like it.”
Eunice had been with the Poésy family since before Scarlett was born. Eunice’s mother had lived with Scarlett’s grandparents, and so forth. Her hair was so red that it was almost orange, and it curled so tight that I used to wonder if she lived with headaches. Her hair had thinned with time, her scalp visible in certain places.
She was the exact opposite of Lola Sala: soft spoken and always even tempered.
I thanked her, and her cheeks went pink. She held up a finger and told me she’d be right back.
“Brothers,” Dario said, entering the kitchen. Romeo came in a second after him and went straight to the food, attacking it with his usual gusto. Dario stared at Rocco and me for a few minutes before he shook his head and went to pour a cup of coffee.
I took a bite of the omelet, but I didn’t taste it. I needed to talk to my wife. And Tito. Rocco nudged me with his elbow. Dario’s eyes had found us again.
“You’re spilling the coffee.” I nodded toward his overflowing cup.
“AH!” He jumped back, cursing in Italian, and then disappeared from the room, still cursing.
Romeo laughed as he stuffed a fork overflowing with pasta into his mouth.
“What is going on with him?” Rocco said in Italian.
Romeo shrugged, concentrating on layering his biscuit with ham, bacon, eggs, and cheese.
The three of us stopped eating when Dario came back in, Carmen next to him, his hand on her lower back. The weather had turned gray and cold, but the kitchen seemed bright white, showcasing her bruises and cuts in harsh detail.
“Brothers,” Dario said again. “I would like a word.”
