You don’t think I cut corners? You don’t think I did what I had to, to move inventory? You don’t think I lied to people? You don’t think I cheated people? Before we had a name for it, before we called it anything, we did it.
So now I hear, Bruno, you been lucky. You been doing good lately. Lately kiss my ass lately.
Bruno, you’re not for her, leave her alone, she’s had too much trouble.
Listen to this: I am the guy for her. I am the guy.
Bruno, she lost her husband. Hey, she lost her husband. Worse: the guy ran off and left her. She’s alone in the world. She’s gotta raise the kid by herself. It’s tough. Bruno, she doesn’t need you around, complicating things. I told her what the loan sharks used to tell me on Kissuth Street: Hey, I’m not here to observe your problem. I’m here to enlarge it.
Joanie and I go back to when we were kids on North Avenue. We go back to Blessed Sacrament. Years later, I told her I was the guy, when we were still kids. She put her hand right up to touch your mouth when you were talking. You could taste her.
What do I want from her? What are my intentions toward her? The days I don’t see her, the days I don’t hear about her, I draw her picture on the wall.
PART ONE
Todd was getting confirmed. Confirmation made him an adult in the eyes of the Church. At the ceremony, Joanie tried to remember her own confirmation but couldn’t. She squatted in the pew and thought dull and repetitive things like, Do I really have a son old enough to be confirmed? The bishop read Todd’s name out of sequence, the only mistake he made all day. Back at home, Todd changed into play clothes and took off for parts unknown while Joanie napped away the rest of the afternoon. The whole thing seemed like an official transition to something more unpleasant.
They still had to deal with Todd’s confirmation party that night. Joanie’s mother was having it at her house: more room, she said. They got there early to help, and while Joanie dumped antipasto from plastic tubs onto a silver tray Nina saw a mouse under the refrigerator. This was the end of the world. They all had to hunt for the mouse. Together with Sandro they moved the refrigerator, banged around under the cabinets. Todd, of course, thought they should let it go. Nina, while she set the table, stayed upset about the mouse; for her it was One More Thing.
Once everybody showed up, Todd got a watch, a cableknit sweater, and some envelopes. His father’s present had come in the mail a week early, no return address. There was a card taped to it made of a folded piece of paper. It said on the top, “Sorry to Miss the Festivities.” Todd hadn’t shown her the inside.
It was a small party. Nancy, her mother, Elena, and Joanie’s great-aunt Clorinda, so old she never said anything. Sandro, Nina, Todd, Joanie, and the mouse. Like all Italian parties, it was planned for all rooms and stayed in the kitchen. Nina started them on the antipasto Joanie’d done a lousy job of arranging, and some spinach bread. The antipasto was good, but the spinach in the spinach bread wasn’t chopped up enough. Joanie worked on a piece for minutes. Todd sat around picking at things and waiting for his father’s phone call.
Everyone knew his father was supposed to be calling.
Joanie was spear carrier. Her mother was throwing the party, her son was guest of honor, her missing husband the offstage star. At one point her mother served more coffee by leaning in front of her while she was talking, like she was the ghost nobody could see.
Everyone ate the olives and left the marinated vegetables. They lined olive pits up on their dishes like hotels in Monopoly. The spinach bread wasn’t going over. Sandro suggested Todd start the present-opening.
Todd looked over the pile and opened Joanie’s first. A lightweight jacket for school. Purple and gold, Nike. He liked it, she thought. She’d had little energy to pick something out and had decided, anyway, not to play “Can You Top This?” with her husband’s mystery gift. Todd waited one or two presents more before pulling his father’s and a few others closer. That self-restraint constricted some part of her chest.
Nina, meanwhile, went ahead with the mouse hunt. She had that look, like every part of her life had come apart and she wasn’t waiting any longer on this one. Sandro wanted to know what kind of cavone went exterminating when she had guests. He told her to get up and got on his hands and knees in her place, clunking around under the cabinets with a broom.
Gary’s present sat there, the one everyone wanted opened, until Sandro, sweating and peeved, pulled his head out from under the sink and said, “Hey, open your father’s.”
“Shut up, Sandro, why don’t you,” Nina said. “Let him open what he wants to open.”
Sandro stood up and stretched, his hand on the small of his back. He was bald and the white hairs on top of his head waved like undersea plants.
“You get it?” Nina said, meaning the mouse.
“You mind if I take a leak?” he said. He went into the bathroom. On the way out, he made a stop at the stereo in the living room. Lou Monte came on. “Pepino the Italian Mouse.” Everyone around the table was quiet. Todd had his hands on his father’s gift. Elena chewed with her mouth closed. Sandro came back from the living room. Joanie heard a skittering under the cabinet and imagined the mouse trying to get a look, too.
The present was in a square, head-sized box. The day it arrived, Todd wandered in and out of the kitchen, where they’d left it, checking it out from all angles. Now he had one hand on top of it, as if to see if it was warm. He pulled it closer. The sliding sound on the tablecloth reminded her of moving boxes, moving in.
The phone rang. Joanie answered it. Someone for Bruno. Whoever it was, he sounded pretty unhappy. While Joanie talked to him Nina put a hand to her collarbone and threw Joanie a “That was close” look. Joanie crossed her eyes at her. Todd started working on the box.
It was sealed with some sort of clear supertape. Nina got scissors.
The phone rang again, this time for Joanie. She sighed and took it around the corner, with a finger in her ear. It was Bruno: something’d come up, he’d be a little late. Joanie wanted to say, We care. When she got off, the box was open. Todd was holding the thing up.
It turned out to be a lacrosse helmet. He was controlling his face, but she could see he loved it, absolutely loved it.