Page 141 of The Killer Cupcake
“I remember now. What she said. She said Papa was coming and he would stay with the treasure. That’s what she meant, that’s why she brought it back instead of hiding it in your place. So you could find her.”
Carmelo smiled.
Kathy sighed. “I thought it was Mama’s. Daddy, before he died, started buying her expensive jewelry she refused to wear. It was different, really pretty. I placed it in her casket."
"Madonna!" Ernesto crossed himself. "You're certain?"
"Positive."
Carmelo took control seamlessly. "You'll inform Matteo. Get someone from the family to agree to dig up Brenda Freeman. That will convince him to arrange the Naples trip as a family vacation; the Feds won't question. While Matteo retrieves his crown, we'll have already laid groundwork with Giovanni."
"Giovanni's young, impulsive. Your wife's race?—"
"If the Battaglias and Mancinis refuse us," Kathy interrupted sweetly, "I'll simply bake them a cake and we'll help ourselves to what’s left.”
Carmelo's laughter filled the room. Ernesto paled, understanding the threat beneath her honeyed words. Now facing two killers, united by a single cause.La famiglia.
"It's perfect,” Kathy said, her hand tightening on Carmelo's. "Together. And best of all, we get to say goodbye to our kids, and to the past. We get to start over.”
"Together," Carmelo confirmed.
EPILOGUE
Present Day.Debbie sat on the exam table. Her legs moved back and forth like a kid in a candy store. She watched Matteo pace the floor.He is such a worrywart, she thought. First, they'd had to wrangle Janey and her five-alarm tantrum about Willa coming to Harlem to collect her. Matteo and Janey at war was something to behold. The family sat and watched as Matteo put his foot down in a way that even Janey hesitated. Debbie and Willa thanked God for Sandy. She stepped between the two of them and became the peacemaker. The one who could handle her Aunt Janey better than them all. It was one of many times Debbie saw the quiet strength of Kathy in her niece.
Thanks to Sandy, Janey had agreed to sign the papers to have her sister exhumed. Tonight, the whole family would witness Brenda's grave being opened and the medallion retrieved. Then off to Italy—every last one of them, including Janey, Willa, and Coffey.
Everything was falling into place. Except for one tiny detail growing in her belly that nobody believed existed. Her miracle baby. God’s gift to her for being faithful to Matteo after all these years.
Debbie loved babies. She loved the way they smelled. How their bodies drew up when you picked them up. The way her babies suckled her breast. Most of all, she loved the way Matteo was with his babies when allowed access to them. There was nothing better to behold.
"Would you sit down?" she said, rolling her eyes. "You're making me dizzy."
"Leave me alone. I got thoughts," he grumbled, still pacing.
"We don't need this doctor to tell us I'm pregnant. I already know! I ain’t no fool.”
Matteo stopped mid-stride, pain flickering in his eyes. "You think I don't want you to be pregnant? You think I don't want a hundred babies with you, Debs? But we gotta be realistic here. Even if you are—and that's a big, big, big, if—you're..."
"Old. Say it. I'm old,” she seethed.
"I wasn't gonna say old,bambina. I was gonna say... mature."
"Oh, that's much better," Debbie frowned.
"The doctor said pregnancies at this stage?—"
"The doctor can kiss mymatureass. My body is made for this. It's made for you." She grabbed his hand, pulled him close. "We're the same soul, Matteo. This baby won't hurt me. You just gotta have faith."
Matteo sighed, taking a step closer just as the door swung open. The doctor walked in with the poker face of a man who'd delivered both good news and bad for thirty years.
Matteo's heart tried to escape through his throat. Debbie crossed her arms, ready for battle.
The doctor cleared his throat. "Well, Debbie. Turns out you know your body better than medical science. You're pregnant."
"What?" Matteo's voice cracked like a teenager's.
"Ha! I told you! I TOLD you!" Debbie bounced off the table and put her hands on her hips. "Mature, my ass! Telling me I can’t make babies!”
