When she noticed the painting in the living room to the right of the hall, Kitty gasped. “Is that a Rembrandt?”
“Oh, yes, dear. It is. Some of my children’s loot.”Matriwas back to beaming before she practically growled, “That’s retribution in the flesh right there.”
“Matridoesn’t care that it’s worth a hundred million dollars,” I said wryly.
Understanding hit as Kitty read between the lines, sensing that my mother had a steel backbone beneath the chatter.
“Of course not. What’s money when vengeance is at play? Now, are you staying in your room, Stan?”
“Where else would I go?”
“But that’s where I intended to put Kitty.” Her expression was perfectly innocent. And as much as she was a living saint for putting up with us, innocent would never describe my mother.
“Oh, um, would it bother you if we shared a room? I-I don’t feel like being alone,” Kitty admitted, jolting whenMatriclapped her hands together.
Only I felt her recoil at the sudden movement.
“It wouldn’t! My dear, not at all. Stan’s hardly a shrinking violet,buthe’s never brought anyone home so I wasn’t sure.”
“Never?” Kitty asked, the question aimed at us both.
I shrugged, butMatrianswered on my behalf: “No, my dear. He’s as stubborn as a mule. Takes after his father. It was my fault for naming him.”
“My father was Custantinu,” I shared.
“Ohhh. Stubborn? I’d never have guessed.”
I shot her a long-suffering look that had her giggling, which made this entire ordeal worthwhile.
“Now,”Matricontinued, “I do think we require hot chocolate?—”
“After she’s seen the doctor,Matri.”
“Oh, yes. Of course.” She patted her chest where her glasses hung around her neck. When she plunked them on, she winced and gingerly tapped Kitty’s arm. “I’m so sorry, my dear. I’m blinder than a bat without these damn things.”
“It’s fine, Lauren. Honestly.” Kitty gave her a timid smile. “I really would like a hot chocolate. If you don’t mind?”
“I don’t mind at all! Victor is in the sunroom, Stan,” she informed me.
As she departed for the kitchen, we headed through the house to the doctor Rory had sent in.
“You have doctors who work for you?”
“They work for a hospital. But we usually have some blackmail material on them. Not that Rory would approve of me telling you that.”
“Huh.”
“Huh?”
“No, nothing. I … Some doctors live above their means, you know?” She frowned. “I wonder if Fratelli is?—”
“Mark Fratelli? Yup. He’s one of ours.”
“Knew it. Bastard. I don’t like him.”
I tensed. “Has he offended you?”
“By supporting the Bulldogsandbeing a jerk? But no, he hasn’t offended me. Why? Would you cut out his tongue if he had?”
