Everyone turned back to the television, but Haven fidgeted in her seat. Uncomfortable, she wanted a reason to leave the room and leaned toward Carmine. “Do you want something to drink?”
He shrugged. “You can bring me something.”
She stood up, taking a few steps toward the kitchen. “Do you need anything, Dr. DeMarco?”
“No, thank you.”
“I’ll take a bottle of water,” Tess chimed in. “Thanks for asking.”
Haven paused, frightened she had made a mistake, but Dr. DeMarco alleviated her worry. “You’re capable of getting your own water, Tess. There’s nothing wrong with your legs.”
Haven made a cherry Coke for Carmine and grabbed a bottle of water for herself, hesitating before getting a second one. She headed back into the family room and handed it to Tess. Tess raised her eyebrows as she took the water without saying a word.
Haven sat back down and handed the soda to Carmine. “You didn’t have to do that. Actually, you didn’t have to do any of it.” He brought his glass to his lips and took a sip. “I appreciate it, though.”
“You’re welcome,” she said as something from the corner of her eye caught her attention. Dr. DeMarco was staring at her again.
The home phone rang then, and everyone jumped at the shrill sound. Haven hadn’t heard it ring before. Her heart raced as Dr. DeMarco stood to grab it.
“What the fuck is that?”
Haven saw the baffled expression on Carmine’s face. “It’s the telephone.”
“No, I get that, but where did it come from?”
She shrugged as Dr. DeMarco answered the call. “DeMarco residence . . . Wait, slow down . . . How many hits did you say you had?” Haven tried not to listen, but he spoke loudly. “How is that possible?”
“Seriously,” Carmine said. “When did we get a phone?”
Dominic laughed. “Weeks ago.”
Dr. DeMarco raised his voice more. “Do it again. If it comes out the same the second time, we’ll redo the entire thing, but it has to be wrong. There’s no way it’s true.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Carmine asked.
“The better question, bro, is why didn’t you notice?”
“Keep it off the record,” Dr. DeMarco continued, speaking over all of them. “I don’t want this getting out until I can make sense of it. Capice?”
He tossed the phone down, ending the call, and pinched the bridge of his nose. His gaze drifted to Carmine and Haven, his expression unreadable, but the raging fire was back in his eyes. Standing, he snatched the cherry Coke right out of Carmine’s hand, spilling some on the floor as he stalked out of the room. A moment later something crashed in the kitchen, the sound of a glass smashing as it was thrown into the metal sink.
Stunned, Haven glanced at Carmine. “What happened?”
He shrugged, staring at his empty hand. “Beats me. I didn’t even know we had a damn phone.”
* * *
The door to the office on the second floor was uncharacteristically left open. Vincent sat behind his desk, his glasses low on his nose as he rummaged through files. Carmine stood in the doorway, watching him. “Who jizzed in your coffee?”
Vincent’s head snapped up. “Excuse me?”
“What’s your problem?” Carmine elaborated as he stepped into the room and took a seat, not waiting for an invitation. “You were fine and then suddenly it was like you swallowed someone’s bitter junk.”
Vincent shook his head. “Must you always be crass?”
“I don’t know,” Carmine said. “Must you always be evasive?”
“Only when you ask questions you really don’t want the answers to,” Vincent said. “Did you need something? I have things to take care of.”