When I get the Clemenza back.
“I’ll eat down here this morning,” I say at last, turning back to Vito and Rosa. They’re both still watching me closely.
Rosa glances at Vito, then back to me. “I’ll fix you something, then clean up the sunroom,” she says.
“Leave it,” I say, a little too sharp.
Rosa begins fixing me a plate. Vito doesn’t take his place back at the table, but I head over there myself with my coffee.
I don’t know how to tell them about what’s happened. I don’t know how to tell them without making it clear what a fool I am. The second I tell them Caligula has gone, they’re going to know he played me. They’re going to know I lost my head over a pretty face, and lost everything else along with it.
Rosa gives me an easy out. “One plate, or two?” she asks carefully.
I have to force my jaw to relax before I answer. “One.”
Vito’s eyebrows go up, but Rosa has already turned back to the stove. After another moment, Vito sits down opposite me and resumes his bacon and eggs. Five minutes later, a similar plate is in front of me, and Rosa refills my coffee cup. I pick it up with a grunted, “Thanks.”
It’s hard to stay angry when so much bacon is sitting there in front of me. Like Vito, I pick up my fork and dig in.
Halfway through breakfast, Sammy wanders into the room, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He looks at me first, and smiles. Then he glances around. “Where ishe?” he asks, his face dropping back into its usual scowl.
“None of your fucking business,” I snap.
Taken aback, Sammy glances at Rosa. From the corner of my eye, I see her shake her head in warning. But then a loud buzzing makes her jump—someone at the front door. I’m on my feet before she even checks the CCTV. “One of those vagrants is out the front,” she says nervously.
Shit. I forgot about Shuffles. “I told him we’d feed him this morning. Send him out something, then make sure he gets away from the house. We need to keep people clear of the place.”
She tells Shuffles to hold on a minute, and packs him a couple of bacon, egg, and cheese bagels with the breakfast leftovers. Another buzzing interrupts her just as she finishes, sounding from the side door this time. Rosa checks the camera, then turns to Sammy.
“Delivery. Put it on the countertop.”
Sammy, who’s been hovering around watching me nervously, seems pretty happy to leave the room, and Rosa heads off tothe front door. Sammy is back a moment later, struggling with an enormous box which lands with a resounding thud on the countertop.
“What in the hellisthat?” I demand, coming over to look at it suspiciously. “Stay away,” I go on sharply, as Sammy gets a knife to slice open the wrapping. “Was Rosa even expecting this?” I wouldn’t put it past my enemies to try delivering a bomb to the house, since they can’t get in any other way.
“I’m expecting it,” Rosa says, coming back into the kitchen. “And I need to start preparing it, so get out of the way, all of you.”
She opens it herself while the rest of us stand there gawking.
It’s a turkey. A giant motherfucking turkey packed in ice.
She gives it a look over with a tut and a shake of the head. “It will have to do, since I can’t send Sammy to pick one out himself.”
“Why the fuck did you order a turkey in the first place?” I ask incredulously.
She glances at Vito before replying, wiping her hands repetitively on her apron in what I know is a nervous tic. She does it when Big Gee drops by unexpectedly. “For…tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I echo.
“It’s Thanksgiving,” Sammy says. “Tomorrow.”
I stare at him, then at the turkey. And I start laughing. A dark, caustic laugh that none of them join in on.
Eventually I trail off, and I think about taking the Clemenza and stuffing that turkey with his fucking intestines. “Trash it,” I tell Rosa. “Far as we’re concerned, Thanksgiving is canceled.”
Silence follows my proclamation. And Rosa doesn’t make a move toward the damn turkey.
“What’s going on?” Sammy asks at last. He sounds scared.
