“Muerto got toasted,” Gus answered for Nick. “Rachel hates the sight of those two. She can’t believe they can be Sonny’s parents. She thinks they kidnapped him.”
After general amusement over Rachel’s very outspoken disdain for the Salvatores, Jean of course enlightened everyone about what Rachel did think about it. “Yeah, when Dad told Mom he was paying for the Salvatore’s Country Club membership, she asked him if planned to mow their lawn and clean their toilets too.”
“Thanks for the reminder, brat. It solved the Salvatore’s disenchantment with being out of the Washington D.C. social scene. My solution allowed for another slight unexpected surprise,” Nick explained. “My friend at the Corral de Tierra Country Club, Julius Danvers, told me the first thing the Salvatores tried to do was get my membership revoked. I decided not to tell Rachel about that. Julius wanted to know if he could throw the Salvatores out instead, but I told him I’d rather he didn’t because we only go there to have dinner with him.”
Silence, uncomfortable silence, met his admission from the other occupants of the vehicle, even Jean.
Nick looked around in confusion. “What?”
“You know Mom finds out about this stuff, Dad. It may be too late, but you could try and get in front of this at the house when we get back. That makes me mad at Sonny, and he didn’t even do anything. I’ll have to find out now if he knew about it and when.”
“What she said, Muerto,” John agreed.
“Say prayers on our way that she didn’t somehow find out about it while we were gone,” Gus added. “You’re blessed we aren’t in Pacific Grove. She would have heard the rumors working at the Monte Café for sure.”
“Gee, thanks for that, Payaso. Where the hell were you when I was hiding this Salvatatore tidbit from my lovely wife? I’m doomed. She’ll cut me apart, and stuff me in a suitcase.” Nick started laughing, but when no one joined him, he shrugged. “Don’t make me have to go back to practical jokes to show my alpha status in the household.”
“Throw yourself on the mercy of the no longer pregnant, Princess Bump,” Gus advised. “Remind her how many times you jump to get Quinn at night. She’ll weigh your felony Salvatore info withholding crime against her sleep deprivation.”
“Self-flagellation, Muerto,” John recommended. “Rachel will overlook your crime if she sees you’re truly penitent. Accompany the whipping with one of those medieval monk dirges.”
“You two are very funny. Don’t be taking this out on Sonny. They don’t tell him anything. I’ve seen his face when he reads about something Phil has done or decreed at the Passport Office. He’s as stunned as everyone else depending on how self-aggrandizing the news flash is. Phil only journeys to his office in San Francisco about once a month, but he issues communiques to the others in the office all day long.”
“How do you know all that, Dad?”
“My buddy Paul Gilbrech at CIA has kept his actions under surveillance since he was mixed up with his mentor and traitor, Lee Collister. Sonny doesn’t know about the country club back stabbing because I figured it would cast a bad light on him. He’s between a rock and a hard place with being your friend and the son of two people who hate my guts. I noticed he’s been burning up your e-mail inbox with notes since we left.”
Jean gasped. “How do you know that… oh… that’s just wrong. You hacked my e-mail? I could have you deported back to Terminator world in the future for invasion of privacy.”
“Calm down. I don’t read your notes. I make sure you aren’t being approached by an entity dangerous to our family you might inadvertently open, giving them free rein to monitor our lives. I tell your Mom I monitor the inflow. If she knew she could read them all you know where my precious Rachel would be spending her spare time, right?”
“Okay,” Jean relented, enduring the ‘Unholy Trio’s’ amusement of her hacked e-mails. “I’ll trust you not to allow Mom in on this travesty.”
“You do know how disconcerting it is holding a conversation with a nine year old who speaks like she’s thirty, right? I guess my novel writing lessons and tips are helping your diction.”
“Nope,” Jean disagreed. “It’s mostly hanging out with you three dinosaurs all the time and never being able to interact with kids my own age. I have been deprived of my childhood.”
“Uh oh… there’s Rachel holding Quinn out front.” Nick peered out the front window, trying to distinguish whether his mate was mad or glad to see them arrive. “She looks serious so it could be anything from a diaper rash to all life on the planet ending tonight.”