So IknowLuca, do I? It’s not quite what I wanted to hear from him, but I guess hewasleaving the message on Celia’s phone.
“Luca sure is scary sometimes, isn’t he?” Celia says nervously.
“Does it bother you?” I ask.
“Luca?” She frowns.
“No, not Luca. Well, not exactly. I meanallof it. The violence. The blood money. The crime.” Celia truly is a sweet girl, and it surprises me that she got herself mixed up with the Mob.
She can’t meet my eye, staring down at the tabletop and scratching it absently with a fingernail, and that’s when I know. Of course it bothers her. It would bother any decent person, and Celia is nothing if not decent. She deals with it by pretending it doesn’t exist, and when she needs extra help to block it out, she does Good Works for the local church. She avoids the other Wives and she keeps her head down.
“I love Frank,” she says. “You know? Ilovehim. And he’s a good man,” she insists. “He provides for me and takes care of me, and he even stayed with me when we found out…”
I put my hand on hers, my fingers warm from the coffee cup. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”
Tears come to her eyes, and she shook her head. “If you don’t hear it from me, you’ll hear it from all those other bitchy wives anyway. I can’t have kids. We tried a long time, and then we went to the doctors, and it’s me. I’m the problem. We thought about IVF, but it’s so expensive… I told Frank to leave me, divorce me and get married again, or else take a lover and have a kid with her. I thought maybe God was punishing us for...you know. The business. But Frank stayed with me, the big dumbo. He’s so stupid…”
“He’s smart. He knows what an incredible person you are,” I tell her. I even mean it, which surprises me. “Anyway, I can see how much he loves you, and how much you love him. God can see that, too. He’d understand why you stay.” And about the pill-popping, but I don’t bring that up.
“Maybe,” she says softly. “But no matter how much Frank and I love each other, we’ll never be a real family, not in the eyes of all the other Wives with their thirteen kids.”
A strange anger flares up in me. I justknowthat one of those horrible Wives said just that to Celia, or more likely, said it loudly behind her back so she heard it but could never respond.
“You don’t need kids to be a family,” I say firmly. “And fuck anyone who tells you different. Besides,I’myour family, and you’re mine. We are outlaws, aren’t we?”
“Outlaws?” She gives a puzzled smile.
“You’re Luca’s sister-in-law, and I’m Frank’s brother-in-law, so that makes us outlaws to each other, doesn’t it?”
She lets out a little laugh. “I don’t know that it works that way, but…I like the sound of that. Still, I don’t think your Boston family would see it the same way. I don’t think your sister likes me very much.”
“That’s because my sister is a mega-bitch.” When Celia looks shocked, I laugh. “Well, it’s true. And she doesn’t like me much, either. Margaret Fincher Donovan is stone cold when she wants to be, just like Luca.”
“Remind me never to get on your bad side, outlaw brother.”
“Never. As long as you promise me not to listen to what those Fuscone women say to you.”
She gives a shy smile. “How did you know it was them?”
I roll my eyes. “Who else? You’d make an amazing mom, Cee, but you’re a straight up amazing woman already. Never forget that.”
It’s time to change the subject. Celia’s eyes are beginning to swim. I take a big swig of my coffee, and then ask, “Another round? I need a lot of caffeine after the night I’ve had.”
“Look at me, moaning about myself, when you’re the one who spent all night out on the town just to teach his husband a lesson,” Celia says with a wink, getting up from her seat. “You sit right there, honey, and I’ll get you another cup, and then you can tell me all about how terrible your husband is until he gets here.”
I’m about to say that that sounds like a plan, when there’s a knock at the door.
“Ugh, already?” Celia sighs. “Better let them in.”
She hustles out of the room, while I help myself to another cup of coffee. She makes it strong and dirty, just the way I like it. Just as I hear Celia’s exclamation of surprise, I realize it can’t be Luca and Frank, because Frankliveshere. He wouldn’t knock.
And then Celia screams, and I drop the coffee pot, shattering hot liquid all over the kitchen floor.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
FINCH
For the second time in less than a year, I come back to consciousness only to find I have a bag over my head, a bleeding lip, and a sore gut from where, I presume, someone has been punching me.
