The burial was horrible. It was raining, and people slipped around on the soapy soil near the grave. Sandro almost went down. Somebody in the group behind her was holding an umbrella half over her so that no matter how she moved, the water seemed to be draining down her neck. The priest did everything with thick, sad gestures that took so long that even Nina, shooing mosquitoes with a handkerchief, started to get impatient. It started to really pour. By the time they got back to the car to head for the Monteleones’ they were soaked.
“I didn’t see Tommy Senior there,” Nina said as they headed out of the cemetery. “You see Tommy Senior there?”
Nobody answered. Joanie imagined him still at home in his robe, too broken up to go to his own son’s funeral.
They didn’t see him at the house, either. They poked around saying hello to some people and introducing themselves to others. Bruno exchanged looks with two guys standing near the TV and nodded. He didn’t introduce them.
He followed Joanie into the kitchen. Mrs. Monteleone was supposed to be relaxing, but she was doing a lot of the work. She flexed an ice-cube tray, spread her hand across the top, and turned it over. The cubes fell out onto the floor.
One sister, in from Jersey, escorted her from the room. Another sister picked up the ice.
Bruno was shaking out his suit. He looked like he’d been hosed.
“Fucking day,” he said quietly to Joanie, flapping his sleeves. “You want something to eat?”
She looked over at one of the platters. “What is it?” she asked.
“It’s Italian, it’s meat, and it’s free,” he said. “That’s all you gotta know.”
She looked around the kitchen and couldn’t believe she was back here again. “You know what?” she said. “I don’t think I can take this anymore. I’m gonna go out for like a walk or something.”
“It’s raining,” Bruno said.
She stood up and ran her palms over her wet hair. “Yeah, well,” she said.
It turned out the back porch had a little overhang you could sit under and not get drenched. The front porch was out because that was the way everyone was coming and going.
“You go ’head out there,” Bruno said, once she was already outside. “I’ll bring some coffee or something. You want coffee? Warm you up.”
She said coffee’d be great. She sat on the top step so the door had enough clearance to open without hitting her back. The toes of her shoes were in the rain. She had her elbows on her knees and her hands rubbed her arms.
Bruno came back out with two cups of coffee rattling and tipping on saucers. He held the door with his foot. She took one from him. He’d put cream in hers and added an apricot cookie on the saucer.
He sat next to her. “Get close,” he said. They moved together so at least that side would be warm.
“Was that Tommy Senior’s brother, with the thing? The harelip?” Joanie asked. “He looked real sad.”
“Yeah, he’s in mourning,” Bruno said. “He just downed a slab a beef coulda served the Flintstones.”
Mrs. Monteleone opened the door behind them. She handed forward two lined Windbreakers, one canary yellow and the other white. “You’re gonna catcha cold out here,” she said. “I got you coats.”
“Thanks, Lucia,” Bruno said. “We’ll be in in a minute, anyway. We just wanted to get some air.”
“I got you sandwiches, too,” she said. She passed out two packages wrapped in foil. “Eat something.”
They took the sandwiches. She shut the door. “You believe her?” Joanie asked. “So good-hearted.”
“She wraps ’em in foil,” Bruno said.
Joanie put on her jacket and buttoned it up. She helped Bruno with his.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Don’t want you getting a cold,” she said. She smiled at him.
They could hear Sandro in the kitchen right above them: “You kidding me? He charged fi’ dollars an hour to build that fence. You could throw your hat through some of the holes in it.”
Bruno slurped his coffee and looked around for someplace to put his saucer. He unwrapped his sandwich and took a bite.
She knew she was flirting with him. She knew he was responding. She was trying to figure out how to get more information.
He was peering at his sandwich. “There’re like nuts and shit in here,” he said. “What’m I eating?”
She looked at her watch. They didn’t have anything at home for lunch. She turned over her unwrapped sandwich. Maybe she’d bring it back for Todd.
“So who’s the guy you were talking with after church? The guy with the hair?” Bruno asked.
“You jealous?” Joanie asked.
“’M I jealous. Acourse I’m jealous. You know me this long, you don’t know that? I see something I want, I don’t have it: knife in my side. Knife in my side. You know that.”
“I’m flattered,” she said.
“Miss Coy,” he said.
She nibbled her apricot cookie. He was pressing against her from her knee to her shoulder. The rain was letting up a little.
“Great sin, jealousy,” he said. “I run on jealousy.”
“Funny hearing you talk about sin,” she said.
“Why?” he said. “What am I? Jack the Ripper?”
She gave him a polite smile.
“He’s ascared, that’s why,” Sandro said from inside. “That’s why. He knows they’ll come after him.”
“I think about sin,” Bruno said. “What happened to Tommy Junior: that was a sin.”
She closed her eyes. Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with Thee, she thought. Blessed art Thou among women and blessed is the fruit of Thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.
Bruno dropped his sandwich half on the step below him. He put his hand on the exposed arch of her foot, which was cold, and warmed it up. “It’s religion I got no use for,” he said. “You know? Religion? It’s like, ‘Repeat after me.’ You know what I say? I say, Why am I repeating after you? Who the fuck are you?”
She was quiet.
“Sin, I believe in,” he said. “The rest of it … You hear people talking about be a good this and good that. You hear ’em talking but you don’t see it. You know? You want to see an example. Mother Teresa? Fine. Where’re the rest? I hear about saints. All I see are Irishmen with red noses passing collection plates.”
Joanie cleared her throat and rubbed her nose.
“Don’t get me going on religion,” he said.
She flexed her toes under his hand. The shoes weren’t good, and the rain was going to ruin them. Watch the blue come off on my feet, she thought. She was beginning to feel more depressed than scared, which was saying something.
A police car pulled up the neighbors’ driveway. The dog in the house started barking.
A young cop with longish sideburns sat in the car and wrote something on a pad for a minute before turning the ignition off. Joanie was too frightened and surprised to say anything.
The rain picked up again. The cop finished what he was doing and got out of the car. He smiled over at them. He was wearing an elasticized clear-plastic covering on his cap for the rain.
The dog was still barking inside the neighbors’ house. She remembered it was the dog from when Todd was out sitting under the tree.
The cop fumbled with the gate in the fence and then came through into the Monteleones’ yard.
“Joey. How are you,” Bruno said.
Joanie looked at him and then back at the cop.
The cop pointed at her. “You Joanie Muhlberg?” he said.
She was conscious that her mouth was open. She nodded.