He turns around in the front seat to give me a hard stare. “If you don’t mind my saying, Mr. D, go fuck yourself.”
I twist my neck so fast I get a crick in it. “Ow. What the hell did you just—”
“You heard me.”
I’m so shocked I don’t even know what to say. For the first time in a long time, I’m legit speechless. But I don’t need to talk, because Marco is talking to me.Atme.
“I know you been through a rough time lately, Mr. D, and I feel bad about that, wealldo, the whole Family, only you shut yourself away from us so much that you wouldn’t know. But I’m tired of you acting like you’re all alone in the hole when you’ve got a fuckin’ army behind you. When you married the Boss and he made a promise to you, he wasn’t just making it for himself. Don’t you know that? Maybe there were some assholes who preferred to dishonor themselves and the Family and try to hurt you two—but that ain’t all of us. That ain’t evenmostof us. We actually give a shit about you, the both of you. And Igive a personal shit about you. I love you like my own brother, and I hate seeing you down like this, or acting like you don’t care about your own life. Youdohave friends, kid.Morethan friends. Brothers. Family. So…” he turns back around. “So just remember that.”
He starts the engine and pulls the car out onto Fifth Avenue while I sit there, stunned, the whole way to the church.
At first I completely reject what he’s said. Pretty words, that’s all. They’re only nice to me because of my position: First Gentleman, Husband of the Boss, Consort to the King.
But halfway there I consider that maybe Marco is just…telling the truth. He's certainly right about Luca; everyone loves him, although he doesn’t think so himself—the ones left in the Family, anyway. I have to say, I was surprised at how many guys stuck around, especially after Luca gave them permission to get out with no penalty.
Hell, if it had been me, I would've bailed in the first wave.
Luca talks about Family loyalty a lot, but I thought it was lip service. Maybe my own experiences with betrayal and lies have made me cynical about trusting others. But when I think about what Marco said, it occurs to me that there do seem to be a lot of Morellis who enjoy my company, or at least fake it well enough that I’ve never questioned their sincerity. All the wives, for example, love it when I come to coffee and cake mornings, even though I'm a sarcastic bitch about all of them behind their backs—and to their faces.
And even the men of the Family, although it took them a little time to get used to my fabulousness, always greet me by name, and they don't look surprised when I speak up about a Family matter. I might only be Luca’sunofficialconsigliere, but they sure listen to what I have to say. And so does Luca, for better or worse.
Marco pulls up in front of Our Lady of Mercy, and comes around to open my door as usual. After he closes the door, I stop him for a moment, hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, Marco,” I say. And I give him a hard hug, slapping him on the back, making him grunt.
“Any time,” he says gruffly, and if I didn't know better, I'd almost think he was feeling emotional.
We go in the front doors and I call out to Aidan from the nave. If there's anyone here waiting to kill me, I figure we might as well get them out in the open early. And then I remind myself, I'm not supposed to be thinking like that anymore.
Just as I'm debating whether or not to hide behind Marco, we hear footsteps coming out of one of the side halls and Aidan appears, blinking and nervous.
He stops dead when he sees me, and then gives a small smile. “Oh. It's you. I hadn't expected to—”
I stride towards him, and he cuts himself off, looking wary. But then I throw my arms around him, and give him the same slapped-back hug I gave Marco outside.
“Guess I owe you one, hey, Priest Boy?”
Aidan sighs. “I keep telling you –”
“Yeah, yeah, not a priest. So what happened to Father B?”
“He’s being investigated by the Office of the Archbishop about irregular funds in his personal accounts,” Aidan says in a hushed voice, as he leads Marco and me back to the hallway. “We have a new head priest at Our Lady. He’s much nicer, not that that makes any difference, of course, because God works through all men in different ways –”
“Oh my God,” I say. “I almost forgot howannoyingyou actually are, in all my gratitude at you saving my ass.”
Aidan gives another small smile. “I don't know if I saved your ass, so much as caused enough delay for the actual heroes to come in.”
“Is that really how you see it?” I ask, and then stop dead as I realize he's leading us to Father Benedict's old office.
“Oh, this is my office now,” Aidan reassures me, as he realizes my hesitation. The plaque has gone from the door. “The new priest is splitting duties with Saint Patrick's, so he told me to use the office whenever I please. And, well, isn't that the wayyousee it—the act of heroes? Your husband came in like an avenging angel and saved all of us.”
“Yeah, by killing a guy.”
Aidan’s face goes serious as he takes a seat behind Father Benedict's desk—hisdesk, now. In front of him is a pile of those motherfucking newsletters. “I won't deny it's something I'd rather not have witnessed in my lifetime,” he says, “but there was no other way for him to save you, or the rest of us. And I'll be eternally grateful to his poor brother as well, who took a bullet that by rights should've been mine.”
“Do you know what?” I ask, annoyed. “No one isoweda bullet. No one gets to bogart the bullet.”
“Death is always in our midst,” Aidan begins, in that droning intonation that I know precedes a sermon.
“Oh, fuck Death,” I say. “I've had enough of that asshole to last a lifetime. From now on, I'm going to focus on living the best life I can, even if I have annoying priests like you trying to stop me at every turn.”
