“You sure don’t look like it.”
“Like my son, fast metabolism.”
“I envy you both.”
“Are you hungry? I did bake a ricotta pie this morning.”
“Thank you, ma’am. But I really came to get Saks out of the house for a few minutes. I know the couple times I was laid up, I’d have done anything to get out. If he’s up for it.”
“I’m up for it.”
“Good. Then let’s go.”
Saks’ mother gave him a look that said he was crazy. “Take things easy.”
“We’re just going for a ride, ma’am,” said Rob.
“On a motorcycle?”
“No. I have a car.”
“Since when—” said Saks, but Rob cut him off.
“Time’s wasting, Saks.”
With questions in his mind, he followed Saks out of the house and out to the street of small cookie- cutter homes from the fifties. The day was bright and sunny, which would have made Saks happy any day except this one. He didn’t trust Rob’s motives. “Where’s this car of yours?”
“Not mine,” said Rob. He pointed to a Cadillac that looked suspiciously like Chrissy’s.
“Wait a minute.”
“Hey, Saks.” A dark-haired woman stuck her head out of the window. “Remember me?”
Gloria? “What the hell?”
“Get in.”
“Nah,” said Saks, and he turned to go back inside but Rob put his hand on Saks’ bad shoulder and he stopped.
“Listen to the woman, Saks, and don’t be pigheaded. There’s serious shit going on, and there’s only one person who can fix it.”
“I don’t want to have anything to do with the Serafinis.”
“Bullshit.”
“What do you know about it?”
“Come on, Saks,” called Gloria. “We don’t have much time.”
“I’m coming with you to make sure they don’t pull some nonsense but, really, man, just get in the fucking car.”
Rob spoke with such seriousness that Saks did it, though he was questioning his sanity. Rob opened the back door for him and when Saks sat, pulled the seatbelt over to the clip.
“Hey,” protested Saks. “I’m not two.”
“Sorry, man. Safety first. And your wing is clipped. I know what that’s like.”
Saks noticed Marcus was behind the wheel. “What’s this about, guys? Where’s Chrissy?” His stomach dropped when he realized she wasn’t here.