Dina Santorelli (25 page)

"How
about the time last year when Jamie didn't call you by afternoon on Mother's
Day, and you drove all the way to her house only to find out that she'd fallen
asleep on the couch because she'd been up all night on deadline. You wound up
missing dinner with my parents."

"That
was understandable. She always calls on Mother's Day."

"Or
the time when..."

"Trish,
please. I get it." Edward changed the subject. "The kids all right?"

"Yeah.
Peter wants you to see his spelling test. He got a hundred. You coming home
now?"

Edward
could hear the increasing irritation in Tricia's voice and was half-thankful
that he wouldn't be home until late, when traffic started to let up, and the
needle on the speedometer read twenty miles per hour. He tried his best to
imagine how absurd this all seemed to everyone else—Tricia, Bob, the 911
operator, the nice clerk at the police precinct who had patiently gone over the
missing-persons report with him and filed his fingerprints and photos. Edward
even mentioned his working for the Manhattan DA, thinking that might help pull
a few strings, but it didn't seem to light a fire under her to move any faster.
The precinct was in a frenzy since just hours before an Amber Alert had come
through regarding Governor Grand's missing daughter, and there was chatter
among the desk officers, who were surmising what could have happened to the little
girl. By comparison, a missing, down-on-her-luck thirty-two-year-old woman was
boring.

Edward
saw the approaching signs for the George Washington Bridge and the Robert F. Kennedy Memorial Bridge, formerly—and still affectionately—known by locals as the
Triboro Bridge. The latter was the way home to Long Island. To his house.
Edward thought about Jamie's cryptic Facebook post: "Help Albany Charlotte."

"Edward?
I asked if you were coming home." Tricia's voice crackled on Edward's cell
phone, which he had on speaker and was balancing on his right thigh. "Or have
you decided to organize a search party and troll the streets of midtown Manhattan with pitchforks?"

"I
don't think so. Kiss the kids for me. Tell them I love them. I'll call you
later."

"What?"

Edward
clicked off the call. There was no explaining it. Trish, an only child with two
parents still living, would never understand, and to try to make her would just
exasperate them both. Edward got into the exit lane for the George Washington Bridge, which would get him across the Hudson River and eventually put him
onto the thruway and into upstate New York.

The front door of the log
cabin was open, but the screen door was locked. Annoyed, Leo rang the doorbell.

"Who
is it?" Tony called, although from the dining room, he could see Leo standing
there.

"Just
open the fuckin' door, would you?" Leo said through the mesh screen.

"Sheesh,
what a grouch." Tony opened the door and stepped back so Leo could enter.

"It
would be nice if someone gave me a key around here." Leo took off his jacket
and flopped it on the couch, emitting a pungent smell of alcohol and cigarettes
into the room.

Bailino
was standing in the kitchen in front of the oven and wearing oven mitts on his
hands. He eyed Leo's jacket, but let it go.

"Look
at you. The happy homemaker, huh?" Leo said. "Smells like chocolate in here.
Good, I'm starving."

"Yeah,
brownies," Bailino said, pulling a tray out of the oven. "But they're not for
you."

"Oh,
really? Guests don't get brownies."

"Nope,
and they don't get keys either."

"They
do at hotels," Benny said.

"This
isn't a hotel." Bailino placed the brownies on the counter. "It's my home."

"Yeah,
so you've told us." Leo sat down at the dining room table.

"What
do you need a key for?" Bailino asked.

"Forget
about it," Leo waved his hand. "I wouldn't be able to figure out those
cockamamie locks anyway."

"They're
electronic," Joey said. He had been sitting on the couch when Leo walked in,
but had gone into the kitchen and was standing next to Bailino. "Inserting the
key unarms the circuit and..."

"Yeah,
whatever, kid." Leo said. "I didn't ask for an episode of
How Stuff Works
."
Leo put his feet up on one of the dining-room-table chairs. "So what's the
word? Is Grand gonna go for it?"

"I
think so." Bailino took a tub of chocolate frosting from the top shelf of a
cabinet.

"You
think? My father's life is in your hands, and you
think
he's gonna go
for it."

"Yeah,
that's right." Bailino stuck a butter knife in the frosting and carefully
coated the top of a brownie. "I think. Therefore, I am sure."

"Where
ya been, Leo?" Tony was sitting at the computer again.

"Stanton."

Bailino
stopped frosting. "Are you a fucking idiot?"

"Here
we go..." Leo got up and grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator.

"What
did I specifically tell you not to do? What did your father specifically tell
you not to do?"

"I
know, I know... I already got a tongue-lashing from my old man. I don't need
another one." Leo looked around. "Where's the girl?"

"Didn't
you bother her enough today?" Bailino asked.

Leo
shot Joey a look. "You're a fucking tattletale, you know that."

"Don't
yell at him." Bailino was holding the knife in the air, and the chocolate
frosting oozed down onto his finger. He licked it.

Leo
muttered something under his breath and sat back down at the dining-room table.
"Back to virtual poker, huh?" Leo downed the beer and threw the can at Tony.
"The real thing too much for you?"

"Why,
you want to play again? Give me a chance to get even?"

"Sure,
why not, I'll take more of your money, you putz." Leo turned to Benny. "You
in?"

"Yeah,
sure."

"Hey,
Martha Stewart, you wanna play, or are you gonna crochet a blanket next?"

Bailino
placed the brownies on a glass cake plate and washed his hands. "Yeah, I'll
play a couple of hands."

"That's
all you'll have money for, buddy, when I get through with you. Ton, tell him
how much you're down from this afternoon."

"Three
hundred," Tony said, reaching for the deck of cards on the buffet.

"No
shit." Bailino sat down. "You must be real good."

"I
am," Leo said, taking his feet off the seat next to him. "Joe, here, take this
seat." He tapped the chair.

Joey
hesitated.

"He's
not playing." Bailino said.

"Why
the hell not?"

"With
what money?" Tony asked.

"He
can play with his college fund, since he ain't gonna need it," Leo chuckled. He
took the cards from Tony and started shuffling.

"Is
that right?" Bailino put his hand on Joey's shoulder. "You want to play, Joe?"

"No,
thanks."

"Sit
the fuck down already. Just one hand. See how much of a genius you really are.
Get me another beer before you do, though."

"I
thought we agreed to dry out for a few days." Bailino reached into his pants
pocket and pulled out a roll of hundred dollar bills.

"You
agreed. I didn't agree." Leo took the beer from Joey. "Better say good-bye to
that wad," Leo said, tilting his chin at Bailino's cash.

"What's
the ante?" Benny asked.

"Five
hundred." Leo tossed five hundred-dollar bills into the center of the table.

Joey
looked concerned.

"I'll
spot you," Bailino assured him.

"C'mon,
cough it up, fellas." Leo said, as Benny and Tony each put their money in the
pot and he dealt the cards.

"So
where's the girl?" Leo asked.

"Didn't
we cover this already?" Bailino picked up his cards.

"You
didn't say where she was."

"Upstairs."

"I'll
bet she is."

Leo
kicked Benny under the table. "So? Did you forget how to play?"

"Check,"
Benny said.

"Check,"
Tony said, scratching behind his ear.

"I
open," Bailino said, tossing in a hundred-dollar bill.

"Woo
hoo! I call," Leo said. He, Tony, and Benny threw in their bills. "What about
you, brainiac?"

Joey
showed Bailino his cards.

"Don't
show him your fucking hand."

"You
should fold, Joe."

"I
fold," Joey said.

"When
did you get a job as a ventriloquist's dummy, Joey?" Leo laughed, one of those
loud, irritating guffaws. "How many cards you want, Ben?"

"Three."

"Ton?"

"Three."

"I'll
take one," Bailino said.

Leo
gave him a card. "Just one, huh?"

"Yep."

"Okay,
then."

"I
call," said Benny.

"Me
too," Tony said.

"I
call too," Bailino said.

"Really,
well, I raise five hundred," Leo said, making a big show of reaching into his
pocket and tossing crisp bills into the pot.

"I
fold," Benny and Tony said in unison, tossing their cards facedown onto the
table.

Bailino
studied his hand. "I'll see that," he said. "And I'll raise you another
hundred."

"Oh,
now we're raising, huh?" Leo placed another hundred-dollar bill in the pot.
"This'll be interesting."

"Oh,
yeah. Why?"

"Because
I know you're full of shit."

"Really?"
Bailino said. "So raise me again."

"I
have an idea." Leo tilted his chair back. "I'll raise you the girl."

"Excuse
me?"

"I
win this, and the girl, Jamie, spends the night with me tonight."

"I
don't think so." Bailino shook his head and sat back in his seat.

"Does
that mean you fold?" Leo reached out his hands to pull the pot toward him.

"Wait."
Bailino looked again at his hand. "All right..."

"Uncle
Don..." Joey said.

"Shut
up, Joe," Leo said. "You folded, remember?"

"Okay,
big man," Bailino said, "if your hand beats mine, you can have her for the
night." He raised his eyebrows. "But... if
mine
beats
yours
,
then you pay the first year's tuition for Joey to go to MIT."

"What?
I'm not paying no fucking tuition..."

"Uh,
does that mean you fold?"

"No
fucking chance," Leo said, "but that's not a fair bet."

"Why
not?" Bailino smirked.

"That's
fucking tens of thousands of dollars."

"That's
my raise," he said. "If you don't like it, or your hand isn't good enough, then
you can fold."

Leo
shoved Joey in the shoulder. "Why the fuck you want to go to college anyway?"

"To
get the fuck away from you," Bailino said. "And don't fucking touch him."

"I'm
not talking to you. What is it with the two of you? You're like two peas in a
pod."

"Play
the fucking game, Leo," Tony said.

"Stay
the fuck out of it, Tony. It's not about the game."

Leo
stood up, staggering a little and holding on to the table for support. He
scowled at Joey. "You're a little big shot here, aren't you? Let's see how
tough you are when I get you home."

"He's
not going home." Bailino said flatly.

"Oh,
no?" Leo asked.

"When
the school year is out, he's moving up here. I already spoke to ToniAnne this
afternoon. Then in the fall, he'll stay on campus at MIT."

"What
the...? Does my father know anything about this? Who decided all of this?"

"He
did," Bailino said, motioning to Joey, whose eyes were cast downward.

"Is
that right?" Leo asked Joey. "Do you speak at all?"

Joey
looked up. "I want to live with Uncle Don."

"After
all your mother has done for you, you little shit."

"This
has nothing to do with his mother, you fucking small-minded bastard," Bailino
said, his eyes narrowing, his rage bubbling under the surface. "Kids all over
the world go to college. This has to do with him, for him to lead his own
fucking life, away from all this shit. Can't you see that?"

"All
I see is a kid trying to be something he's not. You don't got it, kid. You're a
fucking freak. Learn that now." Leo kicked the sofa. "What? You gonna be a
businessman like him? Hang around with Kid Rock and the secretary of defense?"

"No,
I'm fucking stuck here, but I won't let that happen to him. With any luck,
he'll move somewhere far away."

"Oh,
you
won't let that happen. Who died and made you boss? Or is that the
plan?"

"You
got something you want to ask me, Leo? Go ahead. Ask me." Bailino held his
cards on his lap. "If not, let me see your fucking hand, so I know whether I'll
be making a big withdrawal this month from my bank account."

Leo's
expression changed. "The things I'm gonna do to that girl..."

"Show
your fucking hand."

Leo
slapped his cards on the table. "Two fuckin' pair, kings and jacks. Now, go
ahead," Leo said, "show your flush that didn't happen. Or was it a straight?"

"How
about the full house that did happen?" Bailino fanned out his cards on the
table, three nines and two sixes.

"FUCK!"
Leo ran his arm across the table and knocked all the money and the cards onto
the floor. "You think I'm paying that fucking tuition, you're out of your
fucking mind." He stormed toward the back doors and tried to open them, but
they were locked. "How do you open this fucking thing?"

Bailino,
as if in slow motion, took his electronic key out of his pocket and undid the
lock, and Leo slammed open the glass door and stomped out.

"Well,
that was entertaining," Tony said.

"Ben,
Tony, take the money." He reached into his pocket. "Here are my car keys. Take
the hothead with you. Go get something to eat."

"You
sure?" Tony asked.

"Don't
worry about it," Bailino said. "But don't let him smoke in the car."