But she had two days off in a row. This was unusual for the hectic schedule pushed on her at the start of this job. Christina didn’t know what to do with herself. It would be late before she arrived at the West Haven commuter station where her car waited. A hot bath and bed sounded good.
Her phone rang as she settled in her train seat. It was her sister, Gloria, who she shared an apartment with. “Yeah?”
“Gee, that’s a grumpy hello.” Gloria actually sounded offended.
“Sorry.” A smidge of guilt circulated through Christina.
“You on your way?”
“Just got on the train.”
“So, you’ll be home in an hour?”
“As long as this beast doesn’t run off the rails in screaming death.” Mentally, Christina could see her sister, who pretended she was happy with her city job, roll her eyes. Christina was pretty sure Gloria wished she had the same commute, along with the job.
“Want to go out?”
“Naw. I want to sleep.”
“Right. Because you’re young and have so much of your life to live.”
“Why aren’t you going out with Marcus?”
“He’s got business to do. I’ll meet him later.”
Reminded of her family’s main source of income, Chrissy restrained a groan. Gloria’s long-term boyfriend, Marcus, was full into the Serafina family business. While Chrissy didn’t like him, she understood the appeal of the tall, dark-haired Marcus, who had more looks than smarts. Serafina women didn’t necessarily need their men to be smarter than them, just street savvy enough to keep themselves out of trouble. Marcus had that, but his dark, drop-dead gorgeous looks sealed the deal for her younger sister.
“I’m hanging up now.”
“I know something you don’t.” Gloria’s taunting inflection was like nails on a chalkboard to her.
“What?”
“I’m hanging up now,” Gloria mimicked. Then the line went dead.
Damn her; she knows I hate when she does that. Christina huffed and tried to ignore the sibling rivalry the rest of the commute. When she arrived home she found her sister had deserted her, leaving Chrissy’s questions unanswered. Gloria deserved the full treatment tomorrow, no matter how hungover she was, or what time she rolled into the apartment. Christina grinned. Sibling rivalry, my ass.
But after a glass of wine eased her into oblivious sleep, when she woke the next morning Chrissy barely remembered what had vexed her the previous night. Nor did Gloria show up during the day, which annoyed Chrissy. They’d mutually agreed that Sunday morning was cleaning day, and Gloria didn’t show up to do her share. So, it took Chrissy the better part of Sunday dusting, vacuuming, and scrubbing their two- bedroom domicile. When she looked up at the clock, she cursed. She barely had an hour to dress and drive to her grandfather’s birthday party.
When she arrived at the Serafina homestead, a massive orange and yellow brick manse with a huge fence topped with spiky white ironwork, Chrissy was breathless. She drove too fast through the streets of West Haven to arrive on time, and barely dodged a speed trap by the good fortune of someone else’s misfortune. Just the thought of being pulled over by police was enough to make her heart race. The last thing she needed was ticket viewed as a “problem” handled by family connections.
She entered the residence, the family history of the past century and a half gathered there. The house was nearly that old, built by Gandolfo Serafina after he established himself in the New World. He made enough money to afford the materials. The labor came at the expense of men who owed him favors and dared not refuse the request of the emerging Dom. He was especially adept at collecting favors.
Chrissy crossed the marble-lined atrium, graced with twin curving staircases, and waved to some of the guests crowded in the great room that spread through half of the first floor. To avoid the vapid conversations about ‘what she was doing with her life,’ she crossed into the long dining room. A long mahogany table graced the center of the room, stretching the length of it. She entered the kitchen.
There she found her mother, directing a gaggle of aunts and female cousins in putting out the upcoming feast. She kissed her mother on the cheek as her mother waved her troops towards the dining room to place the food on the table. A custom-cut glass protected the precious lace tablecloth handmade by some distant Serafina ancestor. This last only graced the table only on special occasions.
“Christina,” said her mother primly, “so nice of you to show.”
“And you’ve been up before the chickens, cooking. No wonder you’re cranky.”
“You should’ve been here to help.”
“I would have,” said Chrissy, casting an eye toward Gloria, “but someone didn’t come home last night to help clean the apartment.”
Gloria, standing behind their mother, stuck her tongue out at Chrissy, which brought a smile to Chrissy’s lips. One point to big sister.
“Well,” her mother said, “Gloria has every right to spend time with her fiancé.”
“Fiancé?” said Chrissy with surprise. “When did this happen?”