“He called me as soon as you started talking about a road trip. But I was already on the way to the airport. I know you, baby bird. And I know when you’re just telling me what you think I want to hear.”
“Lying, you mean?” He looks down, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
“Lying is a strong term.”
Finch is holding my left hand, and he holds it up to inspect the Morelli ring again, sliding it down to reveal my wedding ring, and up again to cover the gold band, repeating the action a few times. “Ineededto say goodbye to Pops. But not just him—I was saying goodbye to the Donovans. You know, in the old days, when the Irish were migrating out here in droves, their families in Ireland would hold what they called an American Wake to say goodbye. They knew they’d never see them again, that the family would never be the same. That’s what today was for me.”
“You’ll see Tara again,” I say gently. “I’ve invited her to dinner in New York. Only a few weeks from now.”
He looks into my eyes and I hate the pain I see there. After all those kidnappings and near-death experiences (one of which I always uncomfortably remember was undertaken by me at Sam Fuscone’s demand), after we married, I swore I’d never let anything hurt him again.
I know now that it was an empty promise.
“And I’ll look forward to seeing her,” he says, “but it doesn’t change things. The Donovans, as I knew them, are extinct.” There’s a darkness there in his face along with all the other emotions that concerns me. But then Finch smiles at me. “Thank you for coming. I needed you, and you were there.”
“I’ll always be there for you. Always.”
I live in fear that one day I’ll be too late, that Iwon’tbe able to protect Finch. But sometimes it’s more important to say the right thing than the true thing.
Chapter Eleven
Finch
Ireally never thought my Pops kicking it would have such an impact on me. Like, I thought we weredone. But it shakes me so hard that it takes me all the way to Monday night before I even remember to ask Luca what happened in Chicago.
He’s been at work all day, planning to head back after we finish dinner, while I’ve been holed up in the townhouse thinking about life, death and the universe, so we’re both pretty quiet until I slap my forehead.
“Babe! Chicago! What the hellhappened? You’re not dead, obvs, but what went down with the big boys?”
He looks up from his meal, blinking back to the here and now from wherever he was. “Ah,” he says. “Yes. Chicago.”
I put down my fork. “Well,thatgives me confidence.”
He gives a half-hearted smile and takes a sip of the wine I poured out for him. “This Scarecrow cab sav was a nice choice.”
“Oh, don’t even. Just spit it out—the goss, not the vino. What went down in Capone Town?”
He takes another sip before he replies, and I wonder if he’s looking for a little liquid courage, which isn’t like my husband at all. That only makes me worry more. Then he starts talking, and my gut clenches.
“It was alright, at first. About as frosty as you’d expect, given the fact that Sam Fuscone was there, and none of the old guard are comfortable with anything non-hetero. But Carmine Vicario backed up my claim as Boss, and the West Coasters—most of them are much younger, around my age—were all on my side too.”
It sounds like everything went just fine so far, but I know there’s something coming.
“So then,” Luca sighs, “Vicario declared that we’d have my initiation on Sunday, followed by a dinner.”
My insides cramp up even more, and for a second I think I’m gonna puke. “But you left,” I croak. “You came out to Boston.” I take a big gulp of water.
Luca waits for me to swallow it down before he continues. “I made the decision to stand by my husband, and I’d make the same decision a thousand times over. You are far more important to me than any aging Mob boss, even Carmine Vicario.”
“I…don’t think they’d agree with you there, baby.”
Luca shrugs. “I don’t need them to agree with me. Either they accept me or they don’t, but it’s not going to change my priorities. Ididask Vicario if we could postpone the initiation while I attended the wake with you, but he refused. He said…” Luca pauses, and I can see him sifting his words, trying to choose between them.
“Justtellme.”
“He reminded me of the promises I made during my first initiation into theFamiglia. He said the Commission had opposed my joining the Morellis many times, but Tino kept bringing it back to them until he wore them down. Vicario said that mylifestyle choices—” He gives a snort. “—were repugnant to most of the Families. And to Vicario as well, clearly.”
“Mob Boss is a homophobe, news at eleven,” I say, but my heart’s not in it. I know what’s coming.
