Page 132 of Gin & Trouble

“We get it.” I laughed.

She stood. “Anyway. I just wanted to apologize and tell you that I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, Mia.” I had no idea what she and my other sister would do now, but I secretly hoped they’d come to New Orleans, to visit anyway.

“That means a lot.” He tugged me back to his side. “To both of us.”

I waited until she left the room before hitting the play button on the remote. The opening credits toIt’s a Wonderful Lifebegan to play when Zach came through the front door without knocking.

He took in the scene and blushed. “Sorry to disturb your Netflix and chill, but Papa Joe wants to speak to the two of you.”

Dante eased away from me. “Is he okay?”

“He’s good. Weirdly, he seems better than he has in weeks.” Zach shrugged. “Must be something to do with all of the beautiful women in the house.”

“That,I don’t doubt.” Dante pulled me to my feet. “Where is he?”

“By the pool. He said you guys should come alone.” The teen plopped down, scooped up our popcorn, and grabbed the remote.

“By all means, make yourself at home.” Chuckling Dante, led me to the door.

We walked hand-in-hand around the main house to the pool.

“I wonder what he wants to talk to us about?” My curiosity was getting the better of me, but for once I didn’t assume the worst.

“Knowing my father, it’s hard to say.” Dante opened a wrought iron gate and waited until I went inside.

Papa Joe turned as we approached. “Thank you for coming. I know it’s been a long couple of days.”

“Of course.” I looked at him, really looked, for the first time since I’d arrived. While Giuseppe Marchionni was about the same age as my father was before he died, he seemed ancient. His skin had a crepe paper quality to it and his hair had gone mostly gray. However, he had a fire in his eyes that reminded me of his youngest son.

“You sure you don’t want to go inside where it’s warm?” Dante nodded to the sliding glass doors.

“In that madhouse? Let’s talk in the garden.” He motioned to the wheelchair. “Frankie, would you mind?”

“Sure.” I exchanged quick glances with Dante as I pushed his father along the walkway.

Dante shrugged and pointed to the left. “This way.”

I rounded the corner and stopped to admire one of the most beautiful views on Sicily. A full moon hung heavy in the night sky. From the height of the terrace, I could see lights from boats bobbing on the water, as well as warm yellow glow of the city below. “It is beautiful. I understand why you didn’t want to go in the house.”

“My family has lived on this land since before the Normans invaded.” Papa Joe coughed the sort of cough that came from the depths of his lungs.

Dante rested his hand on his father’s shoulder. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to be out here, Pops?”

Gasping to catch his breath, he motioned to a couple of empty chairs. “I would sleep under the olive trees if your mother would let me.”

Dante and I seated ourselves. While I couldn’t speak for him, I was more than a little eager to hear what he had to say.

“Your father was a good man.” He took my hand. “He and I went to school together. We were the best of friends. Like brothers. Did you know that?”

The news surprised me. My dad had rarely spoken of the Marchionnis, but when he had, he’d done so through gritted teeth. “No, sir.”

Papa Joe gazed out over the water. “He never forgave me for marrying Evelyn.”

“Why?” Dante asked.

His father gave him a less than patient look. “Why do you think, son?”

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