Chapter 10: The Funeral

"Say it plainly," I told Delphine.

She glanced at Angelo, and then at the guard standing behind me with his hands folded.

"My father owes a man," she said.

"Aldo Pellegrino buys county seats upstate, and he bought ours the year after you left."

"Dirk is his candidate for the state senate."

"And what does Aldo want in return?"

"A way into New York," Delphine said.

"Dirk told him where you went, and he told him whose wife you are."

"My husband has been waiting five years to trade you."

I looked at her, at the nervous hands and the tight little smile, and I waited for the rest.

"Walk away from the Ferraros," she said.

"Take the boy and go to Europe, and I'll make Dirk stop."

"You want me to leave my husband so your husband can win."

"I want you to leave," Delphine said.

"I've wanted you gone since the day you walked out of that clerk's office with your head up."

"I stood there in a borrowed coat, and everyone looked at you."

For a moment, I almost felt sorry for her.

"Go home, Delphine," I said.

The funeral was the next morning at St. Anne's, a stone church with a slate roof two blocks from my father's house.

Four hundred people came.

Mechanics from the bus yard came in their church suits.

Neighbors who had known me since I wore braces filled the side aisles.

The women from the Friday card game, who had held my mother's hand in her last week, took the pew behind me.

I sat in the front pew with Angelo on my lap, and I did not cry until the priest said my father's name.

Dominic had wanted to come.

I had told him no on the phone at midnight.

He had gone silent for a long moment, and then said, "I'll send everything you need."

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