At Peace (The 'Burg #2)(115)

“Yo, Bella, next booth that’s open, Cal and his girls sit there,” Manny ordered a young girl who had to be no more than eighteen and the minute he issued his order her face went straight to attitude and not the good kind.

“Man, you nuts? I got…” her head tilted down and she (and I) looked at the sheet of paper that had scribbles on it, some at the top with a red mark through them, a whole load at the bottom that was just a very long list, her head jerked up and she finished, “about a trillion freakin’ people waitin’.”

“This is family,” Manny explained.

“Everyone’s family,” Bella shot back.

Manny got serious, I knew it by looking at him and listening to him and, if Cal’s arm wasn’t still heavy on my shoulders, I would have stepped back.

“Woman, shut down the attitude, this is my cousin Cal. Get him and his girls in a f**kin’ booth.”

His cousin?

Oh shit, this was Vinnie’s Pizzeria as in dead cousin Vinnie, murdered, like my brother and husband, by Daniel Hart.

I felt my body grow stiff but Bella’s mouth had dropped open, she’d shut down the attitude and she was staring at Cal.

“You’re Cal?” she breathed.

“Yep,” Cal answered.

“The Cal?” she asked.

“Yep,” Cal repeated.

“Holy shit,” she whispered.

“Language, Bells, Jesus, there’s f**kin’ kids here,” Manny admonished and Kate and Keira giggled.

Actually giggled. On the day of their uncle’s funeral.

If I wasn’t freaked out, exhausted, hungry, dealing with Cal’s lunacy, an unexpected visit to his family and it wasn’t the day of my brother’s funeral, I would have kissed Cal.

Cal heard the giggles, I knew this because his arm flexed on my shoulders, a reflexive action but one that spoke to me.

Then again, I thought a lot of the shit Cal had done spoke to me and I’d been really, really wrong.

“What, we holdin’ a conference? Why’s everyone standin’…” an annoyed female’s voice came at us, Manny stepped out of the way, the voice stopped and I saw a very round but also very attractive older Italian-American woman standing three feet away, still as a statue, staring at Cal.

Then she started chanting, doing that thing with her fingers to her forehead and shoulders. “Holy Mary, Mother of Jesus, Holy Mary, Mother of Jesus.”

Then she rushed forward, lifted her hands and grabbed Cal on both sides of his head, yanking it down to her face.

Cal’s arm fell from my shoulders and he muttered, “Hey Aunt Theresa.” She pulled him closer and gave him a loud, smacking kiss on one cheek then the other then back to the other, jerking his head around while she did this and while I stared on in rapt shock that anyone would jerk Cal around this way.

Then she shoved his head away like she was pissed as hell, she lifted a finger in his face and shouted, “You never visit! What? We smell? The bed too lumpy last time you stayed? It’s been two years!”

“Aunt Theresa.”

She wagged her finger in his face. “No, none of that ‘Aunt Theresa’ business. Chicago isn’t on the moon, Anthony Joseph Callahan, it’s four hours away!”

Cal’s arm went back around my shoulders, he pulled me to his side and he said, “Shut up so you can meet Vi.”

She went statue still again then only her eyeballs came to me.

I didn’t think she’d like Cal telling her to shut up, she seemed tightly wound, so I decided not to pull away from him or make any quick movements. She was already looking at me with her eyeballs, I didn’t want too much of her attention.

“And these are Vi’s girls, Ma, Katy and Keirry,” Manny added, shoving Kate and Keira close in front of Cal and me, way too close to crazy Aunt Theresa and Aunt Theresa’s eyeballs moved between all of us, fast.

I wrapped my arm around Keira’s belly and pulled her to the left side of my front, not a good enough distance from the frozen, but unpredictable, Aunt Theresa, but at least she wasn’t standing right in front of her anymore. Cal wrapped an arm around Kate’s chest and pulled her to his front right.

When Cal did that to Kate, Aunt Theresa started moving again, doing that hand to the forehead and shoulders thing, calling loudly, “Oh, Holy Mary, Mother of God, Sweet Mary, Mother of God!”

“Jesus, Ma, you’re freakin’ them out,” Manny muttered, she stopped calling out to Mary, turned and whacked him one, hand open, up the side of his head.

Good Lord, the woman was every Italian-American stereotype in the book.

“What in the f**k’s goin’ on?” a loud, booming man’s voice shouted from behind Aunt Theresa, she whirled and there stood a man, a good-looking one, older, a bit of a pot belly, definitely related to Manny (thus Cal).

“Vinnie!” Aunt Theresa yelled. “Cal’s here, with Vi and her daughters Katy and Keirry.”

But Vinnie’s face, like his son’s, had split into a huge grin. He took us all in, giving us that grin and he walked by Aunt Theresa toward Cal, his arms wide.

Cal let me and Kate go and suffered another back pounding hug while Vinnie muttered a bunch of stuff in Italian. Vinnie ended the hug with his hands tight on Cal’s neck.

“Cal,” he whispered.