Chapter 6: The Heartbeat

"Until Friday for what?" I asked.

"Until I stop being patient."

The captains looked at the tablecloth.

I stepped over the torn papers.

I leaned down so only he and Cordelia could hear me.

"You've never been patient a day in your life," I said. "You just never needed to be, because I did it for you."

Then I walked out through the bar.

Behind me I heard Cordelia laugh, high and pretty, and say, "Well, that was dramatic."

Gianni had the Buick at the curb with the engine running.

"Friday," I told him.

"I heard. The window was open." He pulled out. "I'll sleep in the yard Thursday night."

"You'll sleep on my mother's couch like a normal person."

"Your mother's couch is shorter than me."

"Then sleep with your feet over the arm."

He almost smiled.

Friday came and went.

Nothing burned.

Nobody came.

I knew Renzo well enough to know that wasn't mercy.

On Wednesday of the next week I had my second appointment.

My mother closed the bakery for two hours for the first time since my father's funeral.

She put a sign on the door that said FAMILY BUSINESS in her best handwriting and wore her church coat.

In the exam room she sat on the plastic chair and held her purse on her knees with both hands.

The doctor squeezed cold gel on my stomach and moved the wand slowly.

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