I can’t help my smile, but when she looks up at me, I pick up my fork and bring my full attention to my plate. I stick a fat gnocchi into my mouth and chew, but when I look up at her, I shove another two in to keep from bursting out in laughter.
“What did I order?” she asks, her face slightly pale.
“Liver and onions,” I say with my mouth full.
“Oh my God.”
I can’t help it now. I shove my napkin to my mouth and try to swallow so I don’t spit out my mouthful when I laugh.
“You jerk. It’s not funny.”
I shake my head, wipe my eyes because I’m laughing so hard, I’m crying. “No, it is funny. Your expression is hilarious, in fact.”
She gives me a glare, sets her fork down, puts her napkin on the table. When she makes to stand, I capture her hand.
“Come on, you have to admit, you are so damn stubborn. You should have let me order for you.”
She eyes my plate, picks up her fork and pokes a gnocchi. She shoves it into her mouth and closes her eyes. “Oh wow.”
“Told you so,” I say.
She opens her eyes and sticks her tongue out at me.
I take her plate and push mine in front of her. “Eat.”
She looks down at the gnocchi. “You don’t have to do that.” But she doesn’t offer to swap back.
“It’s fine. Eat.”
I keep hold of her hand for a minute and she meets my eyes, gives me a warm smile. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
I tookEric with me to the meeting where I sat in for my father. Salvatore was to have joined me, but he’s come down with somebug and I didn’t want Dominic there. I don’t care that I’m alone. I prefer it.
This is what it will be like when my father’s gone. Me in the back of the car. Me, alone. I’ll leave Natalie as far out of this as possible. Keep her safe.
The baby, in a way, I hope it’s a girl. I wonder if my father thought about that when mom was pregnant with me. If he wished for a daughter so as not to have to pass this legacy on to his own. I wonder if, to some extent, there’s a part of us that knows that the inheritance of the first-born male is a condemnation. A daughter can’t rule. Not in our family. Sexist, I know, but her husband would take control when the time came.
I’m thinking about this when Eric slows the car.
“Need to refuel,” he says. The kid who was supposed to make sure the car was ready before we left the city hadn’t show up. Probably hungover somewhere is my guess.
“It’s fine,” I say. I need to stretch my legs anyway. Meeting was in Manhattan and I’ve been sitting for too long.
I climb out of the car and dial Natalie. It’s late, but she said she’d wait up.
“Hey.” Her voice is soft.
I can hear her smiling. It makes me smile. “Hey. Were you sleeping?”
“Nope.”
“Dozing?”
“Maybe.”
“Did you eat dinner?”
