Chapter 5: Sunday Table

Brightline Livery opened at eight, and I was on the step at ten to.

The woman at the desk took one look at my face and said, "You're the bride from the Sorrentino car."

"Yes."

"Our driver came in at six this morning and asked me to pull the recording before anyone else did."

She slid a flash drive across the counter in an envelope.

"He's driven weddings for twenty-two years," she said. "He said he's never heard anything like it."

I put the envelope in my bag and did not open it until I was sitting in Luca's car outside Aldo's house.

"Is it all there?" Luca asked.

I plugged the drive into my laptop. Stefano's voice came out of the speakers, bored and clear.

I shut the lid.

"It's all there."

Aldo lived in a stone house on the East Side with a dining table that sat sixteen.

It was full.

Aunts, uncles, cousins and two men from the company's board were already seated, and every head turned when I walked in.

Aldo sat at the head. His cane leaned against the arm of his chair.

Stefano sat on his right, in a clean shirt, with his hands folded.

Bianca sat beside him.

She wore a blue dress, and she did not look at me.

"Sit," Aldo said, and pointed to the chair at the foot of the table. Then he looked at Luca. "Not you."

"He drove me," I said. "I asked him to come."

"The invitation was for you."

"Then I'll stand," Luca said, and he did, against the wall by the sideboard.

Aldo let it go.

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