Chapter 14: The Family Table

The long dining room of the Brancato house had not held a sit-down in seventeen years.

Eleven captains sat along the table.

The oldest, a man with a white crew cut and a hearing aid, sat at the head under my father's portrait.

Mr. Gallo took the chair at his right and laid his cane across his knees.

Dario sat at the left, in his own plain chair, which someone had carried in from the study.

I stood at the foot of the table in my grey coat.

My sons came in at noon, and Jared came first.

He had slept in his suit, and he swaggered in as if he was about to be thanked.

My second son and my third son followed him, and Eli came last, with his eyes on the floor.

"Mom?" Jared looked at the portrait, then at the captains, then at me. "What is this?"

"Sit down, all four of you."

"Mr. Gallo asked us to come as witnesses."

"Then witness," I said.

They sat, in the four chairs nearest the door.

The oldest captain turned his hearing aid with two fingers.

"Mr. Gallo says he was put out of a hotel by our men," he said. "Dario. Say it for the table."

"He walked four armed men into a school gala," Dario said. "One of them drew on a room with children in it."

"I was invited," Mr. Gallo said. "I have the letter of intent."

"I bought the river warehouses in good faith, from the man who runs them."

He lifted two fingers toward Jared.

"Jared," I said. "Tell the table whose warehouses those are."

"Mine." His voice cracked on it. "Mine, Mom. I run them. I built that division."

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