“The O’Learys tend to be long-lived.”
“You’ll be hearing confessions for a long time,” I pointed out with a grin, but Aidan looked out the car window.
“I guess so,” he said quietly.
I could’ve kicked myself. The guy had someone after him and there I was making jokes about his long life. “I’ll make sure you do,” I told him.
He glanced back at me. “Oh,” he said, with a surprised look. “Yes, I’m sure you will.”
If it wasn’t getting murdered that was on his mind, I couldn’t think why he’d gone so quiet of all of a sudden.
The drive to Boston took several hours, and I was happy that I got a brand new car to drive. Carlucci had muttered that I better be more careful with this one. I gave him a shove and he gave me one and then we’d both laughed and settled down. I didn’t have much luggage, but neither did Aidan. “You sure this is all you need?” I’d asked him when I’d packed his stuff away in the trunk.
“We’re only going for a week,” he’d pointed out. “And you have even less than I do.”
It left more room for Mr. D’s luggage, at least. He’d brought enough to cover a month instead of a week, in my opinion. But it wasn’t like I was going to say anything.
“You ever met this Tara Donovan?” I asked Aidan now, hoping we would finally get off the subject of my family. He seemed just as happy to talk about Mr. D’s family, and he turned eagerly to me in the car.
“No, I haven’t. Nor did I have the chance to meet Maggie, may she rest in peace, but I do hear that Finch’s sister Róisín has entered the Poor Clares—“ He went happily on, breaking only to ask if I myself had ever met any of them, which I had not. But by the time we got to Boston, I surefeltlike I had, given how much he talked about them. Mr. D had told him a lot about his sisters, it seemed.
Still, I was happy to hear Aidan chattering like that. Maybe it meant he’d gotten over whatever I’d said that had bothered him.
Tara Donovan lived at Beacon Hill on the flat of the hill, according to Mr. D. We were following his car, driven by Carlucci with Hudson riding shotgun, Mr. D and the Boss in the back. Don Morelli had left Nick Fontana in charge of the Family while we were away in Boston. I wondered sometimes if he was grooming Fontana for Underboss, given that Angelo Messina was out of state. If so, a Capo position might open up soon as Fontana moved up.
If I made Capo, it’d mean I could move Marietta and the kids into a bigger house. Let those kids really enjoy their teenage years in a way that Mari and I hadn’t been able to.
But being Capo had its own stresses, too. My cousin Snapper always looked weary. Still, maybe I’d talk to him when we got back; see what he’d heard about what might happen with the higher-up positions. Although I was close to Mr. D most of the time and heard stuff myself, Mr. D wasn’t at any business meetings. Snapper, though, was a regular.
I didn’t go outside New York State much, except to New Jersey and occasionally Rhode Island. So once we got into Boston, I had to follow close to make sure I didn’t miss any of the turns. Aidan shouted out landmarks as we passed them. And then we came upon the Donovan house, the one Mr. D had told us was called Hillview House.
I could tell it was the Donovan home partly because there were an Irish and an American flag flying on either side of the door, but also because it was the biggest house around, a huge white cinderblock of a thing that looked deceptively plain on the outside. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have assumed it was a hotel or a boarding house. Over the front door was the name of the house,Hillview, in curly script. Based on the windows, it was three rooms wide and five deep; set into the slope of the hill as it was, I counted four stories on one side, but when we turned the corner, I saw the attic window at the top, and stairs leading down to a lower story, plus there was a basement. Seven floors the Lady of the Donovans had to run around in, plus what looked like a private garden out the back, walled off from gawkers who might go by on the sidewalk, or stare out car windows like Aidan and I were then.
It was, as Mr. D had promised, a very large house. A castle by New York City standards, but even for Boston, it seemed unnecessarily big.
“Wow,” Aidan said, his mouth falling open. “I never came out to Beacon Hill much when I lived in Boston, but if I had, I would have remembered this house. Is thisreallywhere Tara lives? All by herself?”
“Seems that way,” I said, pulling over behind the other car. “Except for her staff.” Mr. D was already out and running across the narrow road to try the door, but it was locked. He knocked, hard enough that we could hear him even with the windows up.
The Boss had followed him by this stage, and stopped him from knocking again, pulling down his hand by the wrist and putting an arm around Mr. D’s shoulders.
“I hope she remembered we’re coming,” Aidan said, worried. In front of us, Carlucci and Hudson were getting out of the car, opening the trunk, starting to pull out luggage.
And still the front door of the house stayed shut.
“She doesn’t sound like the type to forget,” I murmured.
We both relaxed visibly when the door began to open, Aidan even sighing in relief. Then I got my first glimpse of the woman I assumed was Tara Donovan. She seemed mostly made up of a lot of red hair; it was very long, whipping around Mr. D as he hugged her and pulled her further out onto the street. The wind was picking up, and the hair covered up her face as well as his, but not before I saw that she didn’t look as thrilled as Mr. D did at the reunion.
But Mr. D seemed equally determined to ignore any awkwardness.
“I hope this was the right thing to do,” Aidan murmured. I guessed he’d seen the same signs I had.
“It’ll be fine. You go on, now. I’ll bring the bags and shit—stuff.”
Aidan turned to me, faintly exasperated but still smiling. “For once and for all, Teo, I don’t fucking care about your language. Okay?”
I snorted with laughter. “Yeah, okay. So I’ll bring in your shit. You go make nice with the lady. See what you think of her. I know the Donovans are supposed to’ve cleaned up, but you never can tell.”
