Perhaps I should have just left it alone. After all, I was lucky in some regards—the feds I’d seen at the garage had questioned Daddy on Monday but hadn’t discovered anything incriminating enough to arrest him. The garage was “sold” to Raymond DiFiore the following day, and I nearly laughed at the thought of the feds constantly breathing down his neck. I hoped they caught him and threw him in the slammer. Sometimes I fantasized about Sam the Barber accosting him in a dark alley, demanding payment for hauling a load of booze across the river, and roughing him up when he refused.
And perhaps best of all, my monthly arrived Sunday afternoon. When I noticed it, I was so delighted I dropped my head in prayerful thanks, o
ffering up a hasty promise that I’d be more careful from now on. Aside from a little fooling around, Enzo had taken precautions, but still—no girl wants to face the hell of discovering she’s in a family way before she’s married. It had worked out in the end for Bridget, but she and Vince were so in love, I’m certain they’d have married eventually anyway.
Bridget had returned from the beach with the girls and her three sons as well, and we’d all had supper together Monday night at her apartment over the store. Daddy and I ignored each other throughout the entire meal, each going out of our way to avoid even making eye contact. If Bridget or Molly noticed, they didn’t mention it. Both of them knew about the ordeal last week, which was why they’d grabbed the younger ones and left town. I assumed they were each so glad to see us all sitting around the table again like nothing had happened, they didn’t want to risk any more unpleasantness. It was easy to avoid talking about it, since Mary Grace chattered incessantly about their trip to the beach, showing off shells she had collected, a post card she’d purchased for her scrapbook, and her freckled skin.
Every day that week I worked a bit for Bridget at the store, and had to tell anyone who came in looking for “maple syrup,” our password for whisky, that we were out of business. I mourned the income I’d lose since I wouldn’t be making tips on deliveries anymore—finding a new job was a must, but I couldn’t motivate myself to look for one.
After work, I’d go home and see to the girls and the house as if nothing had changed, but I just felt like something was off, as if my bones were jumbled up inside my skin. My appetite was nonexistent, I had trouble sleeping at night, and my fingernails were bitten to the quick. For a few days I thought maybe it was related to my monthly—doctors used to say women suffered from hysteria, a particular emotional frenzy caused by disturbances in a woman’s body. It was quack stuff, but for a day or so I began to wonder if there wasn’t a grain of truth behind it. My bleeding stopped after the usual four days, but the unease lingered.
This is ridiculous, I told myself Thursday evening as I scanned the headlines of Daddy’s paper. I’ve got to find out what’s happening or I’ll go nuts. Had Enzo and Joey come to an agreement? Was Joey still in town? And what about the whisky—had Enzo come up with the money to pay Meloni or was there a goddamn wedding next Saturday?
Friday afternoon I went to the telephone and stared at it. Should I call Joey? What would I say? I felt even less comfortable calling Enzo, not that I knew how to reach him. But he would probably be at the club tonight…maybe I could manage to run into him and find out what was going on.
I called Evelyn, whom I still hadn’t seen this week. Between her job at the bakery and her nights out with Ted, she’d been much busier than usual, and I’d been keeping to myself. She was thrilled to hear from me, and even more excited when I asked her if she’d like to go down to Club 23 tonight.
“Ted and I were planning on going dancing, so why don’t you come with us? That’s our favorite spot, since it’s where we met. I can’t believe it was only ten days ago, I’m so crazy about him.” Her voice was thick and sweet.
“I’m happy things are going so well for you,” I said, tamping down the jealousy in my gut, “but I don’t want to be a nuisance on your date.”
“Nonsense! You’re never a nuisance, and I haven’t seen you in forever. Besides, a whole slew of people are going down there tonight, I was going to phone you about it anyway. Ted says they’ve got a swell jazz band there from down south somewhere. Real Dixieland music, great for dancing.”
“Sounds like fun.” And it did, for the most part. Not that I was much of a dancer, but the prospect of being out with a group of young people all having a good time excited me. When was the last time I’d done that? “I just have to make sure the girls are set for the night. Daddy’s been working late at the new location.”
“New location?”
I sighed. “I’ll tell you about it later. What matters is that we get together and have some fun tonight, just like old times.”
She squealed with delight. “Perfect! We’ll pick you up at nine, OK?”
“I’ll be ready.” I hung up the phone and took a deep breath.
“Ready for what?”
I jumped at Molly’s voice behind me. “Oh! Uh, I’m seeing Evelyn later.”
She raised a brow at me. Molly used to swallow my half-truths quite easily, but lately she’d become more perceptive. “Uh huh. And what are you wearing to see Evelyn? That?” She nodded toward my navy skirt and white admiral middy with the faint yellow stain on the front.
“Um…” I looked down as if to examine my clothing, but she caught the pink in my cheeks.
“Aha!” She crossed her arms. “No use lying to me, Tiny. I saw him, remember?”
I bit my lip. How could I forget? Enzo had come to the house to collect me one afternoon last week, and Molly had answered the door. It was the day he’d discovered the connection between the hearses from Daddy’s garage and the heist. I shuddered recalling how angry he’d been that day
“Are you screwy in the head or what?” she asked. “I know he looks like a movie star and all, but don’t be stupid, Tiny. He’s dangerous!”
“He isn’t,” I insisted, although my tone rang false. “He’s the one who gave me the money to send you and Bridget and the kids out of town—he’s the one who told me it could be too dangerous for you to stay.” That was true, at least.
Molly narrowed her eyes. “Men will say anything they have to in order to get what they want, and they usually just want one thing. S-E-X.”
“Jesus, Molly. Where do you hear this stuff?”
She rolled her eyes—now that I was used to. “I’m nearly sixteen, I don’t have to hear it from anyone. It’s obvious.”
“Well, good. Then that’s one lesson I don’t need to teach you. But as for me, I’m old enough and smart enough to handle myself, thank you very much.” I drew myself up to my full height, but I was still shorter than she was by two inches. “Now. I’ve got a proposition for you. If you help me find something to wear and agree to watch Mary Grace tonight, I’ll give you two extra dollars this week and let you go to the movies tomorrow night without her.”
She considered it. “And an hour later for my curfew.”