Page 81 of 4 Weddings and a Feud

He should hide that shadow box away. He had no right to keep the photo anymore. Not after how he’d treated Mary. Every time he left the casino, he half-expected her two meaty brothers to be waiting outside, ready to jump him and give him the beatdown he deserved. He’d welcome it. Maybe then he’d feel something other than numb.

When he took his hand off his face, a person dressed all in black stood in his doorway. He jumped to his feet. “Mrs. Campo. What are you—would you like to come in?”

She lifted her chin and strode into his office, her black flats silent on the thick rug. She wore a short-sleeved black blouse and a longish skirt that flared slightly at her calves. She carried a black handbag large enough to fit a human head, and a gold cross gleamed at her throat.

She reached into the bag, and Alex had a vision of all the noir films he’d watched as a kid, when the woman pulls out a Glock. He held his breath.

“For you,” Mrs. Campo said, holding out not a gun but a bottle of brown liquid. “Take it,” she urged him.

He took the bottle from her. Even sealed, it gave off a strong alcoholic aroma.

“Nocino. My nonna’s recipe,” she said.

So, it wasn’t poison. Probably. “Thank you.” He set it on his desk next to the shadow box. He studied the tiny woman. In the fifteen years he’d been secretly supporting her and her family, she’d never come to see him, and now she’d visited twice over a summer.

“Dante talked to you?” she asked.

“Yes. I appreciate his apology.” He smiled, bitter. “Though someone wise once told me that accidents are a part of life, and it’s how you deal with them that’s important.”

“That was a wise person.” She squinted at him. “I hope you took those words to heart.”

“I did.” He’d lain awake every night since the wedding, thinking of all the ways he could have better dealt with the disaster.

“But have you really?” she asked, stepping closer.

“Yes, of course. I even gave Dante a testimonial to use on his website. Though I think he should raise the limits on his liability insurance.”

“No, no.” She slashed a hand through the air between them. “I mean you. And your guilt over what your father did.”

Alex ground his teeth. “What he did was no accident.”

“No. But it wasn’t your fault.” She raised a hand. “I know, I know. I told you it was. I was angry. Heartbroken. Grieving. But deep down, I knew you were a victim, just like my family and me.”

“I…but…” His stomach pitched like he was falling. He’d lost control of this conversation, unable to predict what the woman would say next.

“What you did after, giving everyone back their money, working so hard, supporting my family, taking care of your mother, and building up a business that employs so many—” She waved her hand in a circle to encompass La Villa. “That shows character. It proves you’re not like him.”

That sounded a lot like what Mary had said. The words he’d been too afraid to accept as truth.You don’t need the Paradise to prove you’re a better man than your father. Anyone who knows you already believes it.

“Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you.”

For the first time, she looked down. When she looked up, she pursed her lips. “I shouldn’t have cursed you. You were only a boy then. You’re a good man now.”

Stepping closer, she touched his forehead and muttered something under her breath. Then, stepping back, she said, “It’s gone.”

“Wait. You lifted the malocchio?” Like a lot of Italian Americans, Alex had grown up under a mysterious cloud of superstitions from the old country. He’d never really believed in them. Well, except sometimes he had an irrepressible urge to touch his left nut or to hold something made of iron. But older people like Mrs. Campo sure as hell believed in them. And he’d never known any of his elders to take back a curse.

She scoffed. “You said back then you didn’t believe in that nonsense.”

He squared himself up. “And I don’t.”Ninety-nine percent.

“Regardless, it’s gone. You can live your life with happiness now.”

“Thank you.” He still felt off balance, like he was in a funhouse.

“Now, what are you going to do about it?”

“I…I guess I’ll keep working. Open up La Villa Prime and hire back the people who worked at the Paradise.”

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