Page 16 of Shadowed Loyalty

He pulled his arm free. “I’m sure.” She wanted someone else? Then she could have him. He was done, and he’d tell her so while he had the adrenaline giving him the courage.

He took a little too much pleasure in stepping over O’Reilly’s limp legs on his way out the door.

Mancaris and Mancari offshoots packed the dining room, filling it to the brim with talk in two languages, laughter, and the occasional shout across the room. Wine flowed freely, and Little G had set up the new radio, tuning it to KYW—the one station Chicago boasted that played music. Since the opera season had just ended, jazz spilled out, making toes tap under the table.

Sabina tried to celebrate along with her family, but every smile felt forced. Lorenzo hadn’t arrived yet. Maybe before he did, she could slink away to her room—as if Mama would let her get away with that. Sighing, she settled in beside her younger cousin, Caterina, and dreaded his arrival. With any luck, he wouldn’t come.

Cat, barely seventeen, gave Sabina an innocent, cheerful smile. “Hi, Bina. Bet you’re pretty proud of Enzo, huh? I can’t believe he got Uncle Manny out so soon!”

“Yeah,” Sabina answered with a weak smile. “I never had any doubt he’d be a great lawyer.”

She had doubted plenty about him, but never that. Lorenzo had always been the smartest person she knew. He could do anything he set his mind to.

Except love her, apparently.

She focused again on Cat. “So what are you going to get into this summer? Big plans now that school’s out?”

“Not much. Mama and I have the latest Philipsborn Catalog, and we’re going to copy some of the styles and then fancy them up with these great beads we found. After I finish my dress for your wedding, of course. Have you and Aunt Rosa started on yours yet?”

Though she nodded, Sabina tried not to think of the white silk folded carefully in the other room. Who knew when, if ever, they’d finish it?

Her attention was stolen by a figure rushing through the door. It was a more distant cousin, and he went straight to where Papa laughed with Uncle Franco and Vanni Capecce, Lorenzo’s father. Though she couldn’t hear a word of the exchange, she recognized the look that passed over Papa’s face. Seconds later, he stood and pasted on a smile as fake as the ones Sabina had been giving.

“You’ll have to excuse us for a minute, ladies.” He aimed his words at where Mama, Aunt Luccia, and Fran Capecce chatted in the corner over half-eaten plates of cannolu and steaming coffee. “There’s a little business matter we need to take care of.”

Sabina couldn’t count the times her father had excused himself to take care of business. But this was the first time she wondered what business, exactly, it might be. She knew what he was—it had shaped every aspect of their lives—but before, she had never really thought about his crimes. He was only protecting Sicilians and even Italians, providing for the family, circumventing unfair laws.

But the list of charges she’d heard them discussing now marched through her mind like a parade. The bootlegging didn’t really bother her—but cold-blooded murder? That had been among the charges, though of course it had been dropped. Still…could Papa really be guilty of something like that?

He dropped a kiss onto her head on his way out and gave her a warm smile. “When Enzo shows up, tell him to hang around until I get back, okay, principessa?”

She nodded, her returning smile tight. He couldn’t be guilty of that. He couldn’t—he was Papa. The man who made it clear he’d move heaven and earth for their family. The man who always double-checked Mama’s tithe money to make sure enough was going to Holy Guardian Angel. The man who had brushed a tear from his eye at her First Communion, and at Little G’s, and at Serafina’s.

How could a man like that be all the things Roman O’Reilly accused him of?

The three men walked out, though the door no more than closed before opening again. Papa stuck his head back in. “Bina, Isadora and that flapper are heading this way.”

Sabina managed her first real smile, partly at the arrival of her friends, and partly because Papa had stridently refused to acknowledge Mary by name since she raised her hems, rolled her stockings, and painted her face. He still hadn’t forgiven her for taking Sabina to get her hair bobbed, though he never went as far as to say they couldn’t spend time together. “Thanks, Papa.” She turned her smile on Cat. “Let’s go meet them on the stoop. It’s too nice an evening to stay in here.”

Her cousin followed her out, and they arrived at the stoop just as Mary and Isadora Bennato reached the steps. Mary was, as usual, dressed to shock. Her garment of choice for the evening was in clashing reds and pinks, cut so low up top that her bandeau was visible when she moved the wrong way and so high on the bottom that the hems of her stockings—held up today by flashy garters—showed with every step.

“I can’t believe her parents let her out of the house like that,” Cat whispered into Sabina’s ear.

Sabina’s smile faded. Mrs. Bennato was too ill to even notice what Mary was wearing, most days. And it seemed like the sicker she grew, the more outrageous Mary became. And the less Mr. Bennato bothered coming home.

Cat snorted. “Of course, then there’s Izzy.”

Sabina sighed as she looked at Isadora. The exact opposite of her year-younger sister, she had refused to bob her hair, and her clothes were so Victorian that they looked like she got them straight from her mother’s closet.

Come to think of it, maybe she had. Hadn’t Mary complained just last month that her father hadn’t given them any pocket money for more than a year? Her boyfriend, Robert, was the one who bought her the new clothes. But Isadora had no Robert—she’d been engaged to Joey Capecce, but since he hadn’t come home from the war…what did that leave her?

Mary bounded over and wrapped Sabina in a perfume-laden hug. “Oh, Bina. We heard about the whole thing, Robert told us. He got the scoop from the courthouse gossip. It’s so awful. I can’t believe Roman would do that to you—I really can’t. He couldn’t have been faking his feelings, you know that, right? I bet he’ll come back for you.” She grabbed Sabina’s left hand and let out a loud sigh. “And still Enzo hasn’t cut you loose?” Subtlety was not one of Mary’s strong suits.

“Mary!” Isadora chided her sister with a tone born of much practice. “Have a care, will you? Sabina is upset.”

Mary rolled her kohl-rimmed eyes. “Oh, she’s fine. Or will be. Listen, pussycat, the only thing for it is to get out and put it all from your mind. Robert and I are going to a party tonight that’s going to be the bee’s knees. You should come.”

The idea did nothing but depress her further. “I really can’t, Mary. The whole family’s here to celebrate Papa’s release.”

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