“Let me know if the bird flies the coop,” I tell him. “You go with him everywhere, Marco. Drive him wherever he wants to go. But you let me know who he’s with, who he meets, where he goes. You hear me?”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Boss. I like that.
As for me, I head out to where Frank is waiting for me in a car. “What’s on the agenda today?” I ask as we take off from the curb.
“Good morning to you, too,” he growls. Great. He only gets cranky like this when Celia’s bitched him out about something. “We’ve got debts to collect and tears to make, Georgie.”
“But I haven’t picked my crew yet. Who’s on the job?”
“That’s something you’ll have to take up with Tino, I guess. Nothing a plebe like me can do about that.”
“What’s crawled up your ass this morning?” I sigh. Frank’s bad moods are sullen and childish, and I hate when he gets in them. It’ll make him fucking unbearable all day.
“Cee’s bugging me to raise her allowance,” he grumbles. “Since she started hanging out withyourlovely lady, she’s got a taste for luxury.”
Frank is literally the only one I would ever let get away with calling Finch names like that. But even I reach the end of my patience sometimes. “You keep making fun of him like that, our friends today won’t be the only ones in tears, Frank. You show some fucking respect. That’s my husband you’re talking about.”
Frank is quiet for a while after that. “All I’m saying,” he says at last, “is thatyourhusband is putting ideas inmywife’s head. ButI’mthe one who has to pony up the cash.”
I’m not any happier than Frank about this blooming friendship between Finch and Celia, if only because of her ready stash of prescription drugs. But better that he’s with her than with his old friends, I guess, and I haven’t seen him popping pills since he got out of the hospital. He’s been too excited about the move.
“We’ve got too many problems right now for Cee’s shopping to be a concern. Get your wife under control, Frank. You’re the man of the house, aren’t you?”
Frank gives a dark chuckle. “You got no idea, little bro, how hard your life’s gonna get now you have someone waiting for you at home. Just you wait a month, and then we’ll have another chat about it.”
“Whatever. Who’s meeting us for the collections?”
“I told you, how should I know? You’re Capo, aren’t you? If you haven’t organized a crew yet, then I guess it’s just those damn D’Amato brothers out on their own today.”
I’m about to lose my temper, when I realize that Frank is right.
I’m Capo.
I’mthe one who tells people where to go. I’m the one who organizes everything. And if I haven’t pulled a crew together by now, I have no one to blame but myself. I have goals in mind, things to raise with Tino, but so much has been happening that I haven’t even had time to celebrate my promotion yet.
Or the fact that I never have to take another order from Sam Fuscone as long as I live.
I resolve to write out that list of names and talk it over with Tino as soon as possible. In the meantime…
“You know what? I had a shitty night. You had a shitty morning. Why don’t we take out our frustrations the old-fashioned way?”
“Yeah?” Frank glances over at me with a grin. “Just like old times, eh? I’ll hold ‘em, you work ‘em.”
Maybe a Capo doesn’tneedto get involved in the dirty work, but today I find Iwantto.
* * *
When I get homethat night it’s late again, and there’s no Olive Garden waiting for me in the fridge this time.
Quiet, I tell my complaining stomach, as I survey the poorly-stocked fridge. When I move up higher in the chain, maybe we could hire a chef like Tino. I assume party-boy Finch is no home cook. I wonder whatheate for dinner. Then it occurs to me: I can check.
I shake out my right hand as I contemplate the slim pickings in the kitchen. It’s been a while since my hand hurt like this, but it’s a familiar and welcome ache. Frank and I are a good team, and while my knuckles are going to be bruised tomorrow, I found peace and satisfaction in the work we did today. It reminds me how important it is for me to pull a crew together, as soon as possible. But first I slap together some bread and cheese, sit at the kitchen counter to eat, and check on the Finch Report.
Under Marco’s watchful eye, Finch went to the gym in the morning, the only one I approved him for, because it’s owned and operated by one of the Morelli Family’s allied clans. Had lunch out at a café. Dropped by Celia’s place in the afternoon, but she was on her way out to see her mother, and Finch declined the invitation to go along. He came back here, made Marco play cards with him, then made dinner for himself—eggs. Hm. Ten o’clock, Finch went to bed. Marco handed off to the night guards at midnight.
Nothing to report since then.
