Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“I’m sure they’ll try.”
“It was lovely speaking with you, eldest son.”
“You as well, Mother. Always a pleasure.”
She walks to the door but hesitates before leaving. She looks back at me, one perfectly manicured nail tapping against the door frame. “You know I don’t mind if you’re happy, right?”
“I know.”
“Your father would have hated it.” She smiles slightly. “That makes me at least somewhat partial to the girl.”
“How wonderful.”
She taps the frame again then disappears. I watch the space she occupied for a moment, trying to decide if this is a good thing or a bad thing—and decide it’s probably a disaster.
“Here’s to the happy couple,” Con says, raising his whiskey glass in the air. “To Adler and Casey. May the road rise to meet you—”
“That’s Irish,” Jayson says, interrupting him.
Con looks confused. “What are we then?”
“Italian.” Jayson shoots me a look, rolling his eyes. I grin back at him.
“Ah, yes. Well, in that case, drink up, I guess.” Con throws his whiskey back.
“Here, here,” I say, nudging Casey’s foot under the table. She’s grinning like her face might fall off and I’m beginning to worry she’s going to give herself a stroke.
The Coastline Restaurant is packed. We have the best table up near the water feature—an obscenely expensive, gaudy bit of entertainment my father dreamed up—and we’re surrounded by tables packed by guards and loyal capos.
The Coastline is our high-end offering, one of the best in all of Atlantic City, and it’s just intimate enough to feel like this is a real family meal, but public enough to ensure nobody makes too much of a scene.
“Right then, Casey, when are you going to divorce my son here and take half his money?” Mother asks.
Just public enough.
“Uh, never,” Casey says, looking around at the table. “I mean, I don’t plan on taking anything, uh—”
“She’s teasing,” Jayson says, but hesitates. “You are joking, aren’t you?”
Mother shrugs, rolling her wine glass. “Mostly.”
“We’re fine,” I say, glaring at her.
“Just asking.” Mom pretends to be affronted. “Can’t a mother worry about her children?”
“Casey, tell me again, where did you go to school?” Con leans toward her, practically in Erick’s plate. Meanwhile, Erick’s jabbing at him with a butter knife, which Con ignores.
“I just did high school,” she says. “The accident made sure I wasn’t going further.”
“Ah, right, the famous accident.” Con glances at me. “The one you’re super obsessed over, is that correct?”
“Yes,” I say, not rising to his provocation. My brothers aren’t aware of my direct involvement—only that I’ve been watching Casey from a distance for years.
Eric finally manages to stab Con hard enough to get him back in his seat. He looks at Casey. “You seem nice. Didn’t listen to our warning though.”
“I’m not very sensible,” she says, laughing. Mother doesn’t like that, but at least Erick grunts his approval.
I steer the conversation away from her and onto family business. We stick to the legal stuff—the other side of the Costa empire gets discussed only in specific areas and situations—and I can tell it’s boring the hell out of Mother. Which is good, maybe we’ll get lucky and she’ll fall asleep. But more likely—
“Casey,” Mother says the moment there’s the slightest pause. “What is it about my son that drew you to him?”
She looks bewildered by the sudden question. I’m about to rescue her, but she answers. “He seemed to really care,” she says.
Mother’s eyes narrow. “Come again?”
Casey’s cheeks flush. “My accident made walking and standing for long periods of time really difficult, and Adler’s been extremely accommodating. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be able to work a table job at the casino. I don’t know where I’d be, honestly.”
“And you want to work a table job?” she asks, sounding skeptical.
“I know it sounds silly to you, but to me, it’s freedom.” I can tell this is hard for her, so I move to bail her out, but she keeps going anyway. “I didn’t think I’d ever work again after the accident, much less at a position that helped me take care of my family. We didn’t have much and it’s been a struggle since my dad went on disability and—” She hesitates, staring at my family.
Con’s listening with rapt attention. Jayson’s leaning back, drink to his lips, but seems surprised. Even Erick’s watching her.
Then there’s Mother. Most of her skepticism’s gone, replaced by a small smile.
“Go ahead, dear,” Mother says.
“And I guess dealing lets me meet more people and see more things than I’d otherwise be able to. It’s not ideal, I know that, but it’s something, right?”
“Right,” I say and put a hand on her wrist.
She seems embarrassed and shimmies slightly lower, sinking into her seat.
“Well then, here’s to fucking freedom,” Con says, raising another glass which mysteriously appeared in the last few minutes. “And here’s to marriages that work out. Isn’t that right, Mother?”