I stared at him seeing he meant this, it came from somewhere deep. In fact, he was nearly overwhelmed with emotion. If he burst into tears, I wouldn’t have been surprised. He missed Cal and it was obviously good to see him.
Vinnie let Cal go and his eyes moved through us all. “Who do we have here? Honored guests? Why aren’t their asses in a booth?”
“Table five’s gettin’ bussed, Vinnie,” Bella put in.
“Well, help ‘em bus it girl, family don’t stand around at the freakin’ hostess station,” Vinnie replied.
“Right,” Bella muttered then took off as it was clear Vinnie’s word was law, as it would be at Vinnie’s Pizzeria, and Vinnie turned to me.
“Vi?” he asked, hand out.
“Yes, Vi, Violet,” I answered, taking his hand.
“Vi,” he said firmly, his squeeze of my hand just as firm, his happy grin still in place.
“These are my daughters, Kate,” I reached out and touched Kate’s arm. “And Keira,” I indicated Keira with my head, she was still in the curve of my other arm.
Vinnie shook Kate’s hand then Keira’s then looked at Cal.
“All beauties, Cal, you got an eye.”
I looked up at Cal to see his response was to tip up his chin.
“We’ll get you seated, soon’s we can,” Vinnie said, his eyes swept through us again, stopping at Cal, giving him a top to toe and then locking eyes with him. “What’s with the getups?”
“Funeral,” Cal murmured, “Vi’s brother, Sam.”
Vinnie’s face froze, Aunt Theresa sucked in breath and I felt Manny’s eyes on us.
“Cara,” Vinnie whispered.
I swallowed, Keira pressed into my body, Kate shoved under Cal’s arm so he slid it around her shoulders.
“Vi hasn’t had anything to eat since breakfast, Uncle Vinnie, she needs some food,” Cal ended the silence but he did it quietly.
Vinnie’s body jerked then he clapped. “Right, table five. Food. A big pie. Specialty of the house. I’m makin’ it myself.”
He turned and we followed him through the heaving restaurant, every table and booth with people at it. The tables were covered with red and white checked tablecloths and the floors were wood, dark with age and use but still shining. On the tables there were wicker-wrapped wine bottles with candles at the top and wax dripping down. The food on the tables I passed looked fantastic and seeing it I realized I wasn’t hungry, I was starving.
Then my eyes caught on the walls. They were painted a warm, buttery yellow and covered in pictures, some small, some large, some medium-sized, looking thrown up randomly but I knew it was random like my terracotta pots on my deck were random. They’d been hung with care.
All were black and white. And, on closer inspection, they all had the same group of people in them. Some pictures of just one person, others one or two, others whole crowds. Most were candids, a very few were posed.
But they were all of family, I knew this just by looking at them.
They’d been taken over years. There were babies, toddlers, kids, young adults, a family growing up, its history covering the walls of Vinnie’s Pizzeria.
I could see Theresa in them, Vinnie, Manny.
And I could see Cal, from little boy to full grown man.
Vinnie led us to the only empty booth in the place and ordered, “Pile in, we’ll get you drinks.”
He ordered it and Vinnie was the kind of man you listened to but the photos had captured me, especially Cal in them, and I didn’t move. I was staring at the eight by ten black and white picture that was hanging on the wall over the booth.
They were in the restaurant, standing by the hostess station. Two young boys, maybe thirteen, fourteen, around Keira’s age, dark-haired, tall, already showing the promise of the handsomeness that would soon be theirs. They were standing side by side. One, his eyes lighter gray in the black and white photo, was staring straight into the camera, grinning huge but wicked. He had his arm slung around the shoulders of the other boy, who was partly bent forward and turned, his face in profile and the camera caught him laughing.
Cal, the one grinning straight on and one of Vinnie’s kids. Maybe the murdered cousin, Vinnie Junior.
If this was cousin Vinnie, it was true as Cal had said, they were definitely close. I knew this by the smile, the laughter, the casual, close, affectionate way Cal had the young man in his hold.
The thought of Cal as a kid was startling, seeing it even more so but what was freaking me out was seeing his perfect, boyishly handsome face without the scars, carefree and absolutely happy.
I’d never seen it like that, never, nothing even came close.
“Is that you, Joe?” Kate asked and I tore my eyes from the photo to see both my daughters staring at it.
“Yeah, girl,” Cal answered.
Kate’s head swung around so she could smile up at him. “Wow, you were cute.”
“Cute!” Theresa cried. “Every starry-eyed girl in a square mile radius had their eyes on my boys.” Theresa looked at me and jerked her head to the picture. “That’s my oldest son with Cal, Vinnie Junior.”