Mama Leone’s son brought out some chianti, pouring each of us a glass. The appetizers were served, and Mama Leone had certainly pulled out all the stops: antipasto, baked ravioli with marinara dipping sauce, mini-meatballs, prosciutto-wrapped asparagus, bruschetta, eggplant caponata, and fried calamari. It was tempting to fill up on those alone, but Walter warned us to go easy because the best was yet to come.
Next came the entrees, served family style: bucatini amatriciana, chicken saltimbocca, fettuccine alfredo, and shrimp diavolo, followed by another round of chianti.
Finally, Mama Leone brought us each a dessert sampler plate with little portions of tiramisu, cannoli, torta caprese, and several miniature biscotti. Her son, meanwhile, brought everyone a hot cappuccino. Sal offered us all glass of port as a chaser; Walter and the women had one, but being the designated driver, I declined.
As we sipped our coffee and nibbled our desserts, I thanked Mr. Bartolo, “This meal was amazing, Sal, thank you.” Laura, Dotty, and Walter all nodded in agreement.
“You’re very welcome, Tom. Now that you’re well fed, I’d like you to indulge me while I tell you a story.” It was time for the real reason for our invitation to be revealed.
“As you probably heard, I’ve retired. I lost my wife Rosalia to colon cancer 12 years ago. My daughter Thea Duarte is married to a nice man, Carlos, who she met while she was attending Columbia. They live in Connecticut, where she’s a family therapist, and he’s a psychiatrist. My son Sal Junior is taking over the family business. I tried to teach him all I could about being hard to the outside world but being kind to the inside people who work for him, which is how we inspire loyalty. Right, Walter?”
Walter answered quickly and quietly, “Right, Mr. Bartolo.”
Sal shook his head, then continued, “Sadly, my son’s completely ignored the second part. He’s ruthless and hard, much more so than I ever was, and he’s that way with everybody. He’s also quite ambitious, ignoring territorial boundaries. That will probably cause him some trouble in the future. Friends of ours in the Dallas, Saint Louis, and Little Rock families have been complaining. I’ve even gotten inquiries from friends of ours in Chicago.”
From what little Walter had shared with me through the years, if the Chicago family was making noise, then Sal Jr. was pissing off the wrong people. Walter spoke up, “Yeah, we stopped by Sednicki Jewelers on the way here, and one of your son’s collectors, a guy named Mindo, was putting the arm on Sednicki for protection payments. I told the guy Sednicki got square with you a long time ago, and made the guy go away. He wasn’t happy, but when I told him who I was, he left.”
Sal sighed, shaking his head again. “Fucking Jerry Mindo’s nothing but a punk. It’s unfortunate you got involved, Walter. I told everybody you was retired, and deliberately kept you out of Kansas City these past few years so nobody would see you as a threat when I handed the business over. I’ll talk to Junior and explain you weren’t working, you’re just a friend of Sednicki’s who happened to be in the shop.”
Sal took another sip of his port, then resumed his story. “Anyway, let me get to the reason I asked you folks here. I was married to my Rosie for 42 years before I lost her. She gave me two children, bless her soul. Rosie was raised real religious back in Sicily, then after she came to America her parents encouraged her to marry me. She was a beautiful but pious girl; she did her wifely duties only because it was her responsibility to give me children.”
Leaning back, Sal folded his hands across his stomach. “Our life could have been much different had she not been taught that sex other than for procreation was sinful. Outside the bedroom, she was a good wife and mother who spent a lot of time doing church work, but after Junior was born, she felt she’d finished doing her duty and insisted on twin beds. She had no more interest in me physically, if you catch my meaning. Like most made guys, eventually I got myself a goomah — a girlfriend — on the side, to take care of my personal needs.”
Sal held up a picture of himself and young woman, taken at a famous Las Vegas casino named after a certain Roman emperor. She was blonde, slim, and blue-eyed, looking very much like my ex-wife Beverly.
“Her name was Jennifer Walker. She was twenty-eight years younger than me when we met, and I fell hard for her. After a few months together, she got pregnant with twins; my sons David and Delavan. I was still married to Rosie, so I couldn’t marry her, but I took care of them as best I could. I set them up in a condominium in Kansas City, and got Jenny a day job cleaning rooms in a small motel I owned after the boys started going to school. She was a hard worker, that girl. She insisted on working to pay me rent, can you believe that shit? But that’s the kind of woman she was. Walter used to drive me to see her. He knows…”
Walter nodded in agreement. “Jenny was a sweet lady, always nice to everybody.”
Sal went on, “Jenny’s dream was for her boys to attend Harvard someday, so I enrolled them in the best prep schools in Kansas City. They’re smart like their mother, graduated co-valedictorians at the top of their class. Their Harvard acceptance letters arrived last week. Jenny would have been proud.” He stopped and squeezed his eyes shut as if processing a painful memory, then drained his glass of port and refilled it.
“Sorry, I gotta condition, a little chest pains every now and then. It’s a bitch getting old.” Sal took a deep breath, then resumed his story. “Jenny was hit by a drunk driver last year. She lingered in the hospital for a week, but they couldn’t save her. The day before she died, I did what I shoulda done way sooner; I married her in the hospital chapel.”
Sal stopped for a moment, looking towards the ceiling; it was obvious how badly he missed her. Sitting between Dotty and Laura, Sal took their hands in his. “Walter, Tom, you married two wonderful women. Remember to count your blessings and cherish what you got every damned day, otherwise you’ll end up filled with regrets like me.”
I nodded, and Walter spoke for us both. “We hear ya, Mr. Bartolo.”
Sal took a cleansing breath, then continued, “My boys have been living in the condo and going to school, graduating next month. I hired an older gal who’s like a housemother, she’s watching over them. I thought they’d be set until they turned 18 and went away to college. Now, with Sal Junior taking over, he’s poking around my books, looking at everything, asking too damned many questions.”
A sudden coughing spell stopped Sal for a minute, then he continued.
“I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time until Sal Junior finds out about his half-brothers, and knowing him, he ain’t gonna like it. I hate to say this about my own flesh and blood, but I’m afraid of what Junior will do when he finds out about them.”
Sal Senior stood up now, addressing me and Walter. “I’ve been alive a long time, some would say too damn long, and they’d be right. I’ve had a few friends here and there, but most are either dead or doing time in the penitentiary. Now my cardiologist is telling me my heart’s giving out.” He shook his head. “It’s a pisser.”