Chapter 7: Sunday Lamb

Renata Ventresca had set the Sunday table for six.

She stood at the head of it in a black dress with her gold cross on her chest, and she kissed my cheek at the door.

"You came," she said.

"You asked me to."

"I asked you to bring nothing and wear whatever you liked. You've done both."

I had brought nothing, and I wore the green sweater Dominic once said he liked.

I hadn't chosen it for him.

It was the first thing my hand found.

Fitz sat on my left, turning his cap in his lap.

Dominic sat at the far end, two seats from his mother, with his eyes on the tablecloth.

The sixth chair was empty.

"Who is that for?" I asked.

"A guest," Renata said. "I invited her myself."

The doorbell rang at one o'clock.

Gia came in wearing a plain blue dress, with her hair pinned back and no lipstick.

"Signora Ventresca," she said. "Thank you for having me."

"Sit," said Renata.

Gia sat across from me and folded her hands.

Nobody passed the bread.

"I invited you," Renata said, "so you could say whatever you have to say to my face and not to my son's phone. Go on."

"I never wanted to hurt anyone." Gia's eyes filled. "Annie is my friend. I'd give anything to undo it."

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