Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
I head outside, thinking about my future. There’s Claudia, and children, and marriage, and a dozen happy mornings. There’s also the Famiglia and power and death suffusing everything. But that’s not so bad. Hell, maybe it’s a good thing. I’m not really the kind of guy that can sit still for long, and running Cage doesn’t take all my energy. Sooner or later, Claudia will be able to do that on her own.
Then who knows. Maybe another club? Maybe something bigger.
As I head back to my house, I slow down outside of Laura’s place and stare up at the porch. My younger sister is sitting on a chair, her legs curled under her, and she’s absolutely covered in dust. It looks like she’s a ghost, it’s so white, except for lines around her eyes and her face where she was wearing a mask and a pair of goggles.
“What the hell happened to you?” I ask, one foot up on the bottom of her porch steps.
She frowns at me. “Marble. I went overboard.”
“I can see that. Making anything good? Wait, don’t answer, I want you to surprise me.”
She rolls her eyes, but that’s not a no. “How’d your meeting with the Don go?”
“He made me the official ruler of Cage once again.”
“About time. As if you weren’t already.”
“It’s alright. I’m getting eased back into the fold.”
Laura shrugs and brushes some dust off her sleeve. “I need a shower.”
“I’m shocked you’re outdoors, honestly. I thought you were agoraphobic.”
“I’m not afraid.” Her eyes narrow. “Just lazy.”
“Then have you ever considered showing some of your work?” I mention it as casually as I can, but it’s something I’ve been thinking a lot about lately. Laura’s insanely talented, like professional-quality talented, except she keeps her work hidden in her basement and her back yard. I’m one of a very small number of people that even knows how incredibly beautiful her sculptures are.
“Showing? Absolutely not.”
“Come on, this stuff deserves to be out in the world. And you just admitted that you’re not afraid to go outside.”
Her lips push together and her hands grip the arms of her chair. “Just because I’m not afraid doesn’t mean I want to.” She pushes herself to her feet.
“How can I convince you? Just one show for important people only. A small, intimate affair, hosted at Cage.”
“Maybe if I could wear a mask. And everyone in attendance also wore a mask. Maybe then I’d consider it.” She walks to her front door.
“Masks are easy. I can make that happen.”
She pauses and looks back at me. “I wasn’t serious.”
“I’ll put it together. We’ll come up with a theme. Hell, you can be totally anonymous if you want. It’ll be more fun that way.”
“Angelo—”
“Elena will design the invites. You start putting together your mask.” I wave to my sister and walk off. If she complains or tries to tell me off, I don’t hear it.
She needs this. Laura can’t stay hidden in that house of hers forever, and I’m the only one in the family that can get her to come out.
Back home, I find Claudia in the kitchen. She’s got a glass of white wine, her hair up in a messy bun, a cropped sweatshirt on, and Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors blares through the speaker system.
“I didn’t know you liked this stuff,” I say, giving her a kiss, and pouring myself a glass of wine.
“Sometimes I come back to the classics. Nothing beats a band hell-bent on fucking each other and writing songs about their breakups.”
I lean against the island as she sings to herself. She’s getting started on a simple red sauce and a big pot of water’s waiting to be boiled. I smell onions, garlic, carrots, and celery, but mostly I smell her shampoo and the light whiff of perfume she spritzes every morning. I could stand here for ages, staring, feeling happier and more content than I’ve ever been before. There’s lots of death behind me. Lots of prisons too.
But right now, the house feels big, and open, and free.
We’ll fill it up eventually.