My Don Married My Pregnant Sister So I Choose His Mafia Rival novel · Chapter 13 of 32

Chapter 13: The Party on the Pier

"Then come to the wedding," I said.

The old man's white eyebrows went up.

"You had your wedding. At city hall. My daughter says your grandmother put the pen through the paper."

"We never had the party." I straightened up. "Two weeks from Saturday, on my pier at St. George. Every family's invited. Come and look at us as long as you like."

He looked across the hall at Ettore again.

"I'll bring my good glasses," he said.

Ettore found out in the car.

"A party," he said.

"A wedding party."

"Ours."

"Unless you've got another wife somewhere."

He drove a whole block without saying anything.

"You invited the old man from Howard Beach to inspect us."

"I invited him to eat."

"With him, that's the same thing." He glanced at me. "What exactly is he inspecting?"

"Whether you look at me like a husband."

"How does a husband look?"

"I don't know. The last one I had was asleep."

He laughed, short and surprised.

By Monday the widows had taken the party away from me.

Assunta's kitchen became a war room with a calendar on the refrigerator.

The widow from Bay Ridge did the lists.

The two Sarno widows argued about the sausage for three days and then made both kinds.

The old man's daughter came over with a checkbook and was sent home with it.

"It's a Cardone wedding," Assunta told her. "Cardones pay."

"You're a Cardone with a pension."

"And a son who left me his cigar money. Sit down and roll meatballs."

My crew strung lights.

The deckhand spent two evenings on a ladder, running bulbs from Papa's pier shed out to the bell post at the end.

The Sarno men carried down folding tables from a church basement in Red Hook.

They worked beside my dock hands without a single fight.

The underboss said that was the real miracle of the summer.

The burned night launch still sat at the end of the pier under a blue tarp.

The deckhand wanted to hide her.

"Leave her," I said. "Let them see what Cosimo did to her."

The engineer sent word from the burn unit that if Ettore didn't dance, he'd come down in his hospital gown and dance with me himself.

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