Chapter 11: The Roof

On Friday afternoon the dock capo's wife called me at the diner.

I did not know she had my number.

"Livia, honey," she said. "I'm calling about my husband."

"Who is this?"

"The wife of the man with the mustache. You left a loaf of bread on his desk."

"I'm sorry about that day. I didn't mean to cause trouble."

"Honey, you didn't cause trouble." She sounded amused. "He brought half the loaf home."

"I told him it was the best bread I'd ever tasted, and I asked who made it."

"What did he say?"

"He said Aurelio's girl." Her voice sharpened.

"And I said, Aurelio's girl made you bread, and you couldn't give her one sentence at a table?"

I held the phone tighter.

"He'll swear at the banquet," she said.

"I told him I'm not cooking another meal in my house until he does."

I laughed, and then I put my hand over my mouth.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Wear something nice. I'll be watching."

She hung up.

So I had three oaths.

Valerio, the old capo with the oxygen tank, and a dock boss whose wife ran his kitchen.

At eleven that night I stood on the roof of my study partner's building with my phone in my hand.

I had texted Valerio at ten.

Come up to the roof.

It was the first time in my life I had asked him for anything.

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