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.”

Yep, like I thought, cousin Vinnie.

“I guessed that,” I said softly and at my tone, she flinched. It wasn’t a big flinch but I caught it, I knew what it meant and I wondered if the pain ever went away.

Considering my back-to-back losses of Tim and Sam, it sucked to see Theresa’s flinch and know, even after seven years, it didn’t.

She held my gaze, hers getting soft as it swung to Cal then to me and I knew she knew Cal had told me about Vinnie. I also knew she read far more into this than was the truth because her face lost that hint of sadness and spread into a glamorous smile.

“Sit down, sit down,” Uncle Vinnie urged and the girls scrambled in, both on one side as I slid into the other, Cal coming in beside me.

Vinnie turned and yelled across the restaurant, “Bella! We need breadsticks here and antipasto, on the double, yeah?”

“Got it, Vinnie!” Bella yelled back.

“I’ll get drinks,” Theresa muttered and moved away without asking what we wanted.

“We’ll get your belly full, Vi, you and your girls, just relax,” Vinnie promised, his eyes on me. I nodded, he nodded back and then he followed his wife.

I was happy to eat, more than happy, especially if the food tasted half as good as it looked.

But at that moment, I was in ecstasy to be off my foot, it was killing me.

Manny pushed into the booth beside Kate and both Kate and Keira stared at him, goggle-eyed.

“So, how long you stayin’?” Manny asked Cal.

“Leavin’ after dinner,” Cal answered and Manny’s brows went up.

“Shit, Cal, um… sorry, Vi, girls,” he nodded at me then at the girls then he looked back to Cal, “shoot, Cal, Ma’s gonna have a shit, I mean shoot hemorrhage you do a flyby for dinner and don’t hang.”

“Gotta get them home, Man,” Cal told him.

“Could spend the night, leave early tomorrow, let Ma at least make ‘em breakfast,” Manny urged.

“Not gonna happen,” Cal told him.

“She’s not gonna like it,” Manny replied.

“Vi just lost her brother, Kate and Keira their uncle. She’ll get that they want to sleep in their own beds tonight,” Cal returned quietly and when he did, what he said, how he said it, the fact that he knew that, I felt it hit me like it did when his mouth touched mine before the service after I found out he’d warned off Mom and Dad. That feeling in my stomach, going warm, getting soft.

“Well, I ain’t tellin’ her,” Manny mumbled and Keira giggled so Manny flashed her a super-white smile, Keira’s giggle died in her throat and her eyes grew dazzled.

I stopped watching my daughter’s eyes grow dazzled when I felt Cal’s fingers bunch my skirt in a fist and pull it up. My back went ramrod straight, my mind went blank and my hand went down to curl around his wrist.

Manny turned back to Cal and noted, “Sweet ride, Cal. The ‘Stang. You get rid of the ’68?”

“Ride’s Vi’s. I still got the ’68,” Cal answered casually as if he wasn’t pulling up my skirt under the table and my hand wasn’t tight on his wrist to fight him in this insane effort.

“Got good taste, babe,” Manny grinned at me.

“Thanks,” I replied but my word was tight.

Cal had my skirt up and he leaned a bit into me as his hand curled around the inside of my thigh and he pulled my leg up.

I couldn’t do much but clutch his wrist since he was stronger than me. I couldn’t exactly shout at him or wrestle him at the table, both of which I wanted to do.

Luckily, Kate drew Manny’s attention by asking, “What’s a ’68?”

“Cal’s Mustang, 1968 Mustang GT. The Bullitt car. Freakin’ awesome,” Manny answered and, as he did, Cal lifted my leg and I felt the side of his shoe against my ankle. Then I felt it slide down, taking my shoe with it.

The pump fell to the floor and when the pressure released on my injured foot, the constant, nagging pain I’d had since putting the damn thing on subsided and my eyes rolled back into my head.

Heaven.

“What’s a bullet car?” Keira asked Manny while I experienced heaven.

“Steve McQueen’s ace ride in the movie, Bullitt. The sweetest car ever built,” Manny answered.

While this conversation went on, Cal lifted my leg further and hooked it over his knee, yanking it up his thigh so my skirt was hiked high, my calf and foot were dangling between his legs and then he leaned into me.

Whispering, he ordered, “You let Manny go get your other shoes or I carry you out. Your choice, buddy.”

I pulled my head back and glared at him, at the same time I tried to jerk my leg away but his hand was still at my inner thigh and it tightened so I got nowhere.

When I didn’t answer, Cal asked, “What’s it gonna be?”

I kept the pressure on his hand but he didn’t let go.

“Vi?” he prompted.

“Shoes,” I hissed.

Cal grinned and muttered, “Good choice.” Then he turned his head to Manny, leaning back and reaching into his pocket. “Man, do me a favor. There’s a pair of shoes on the floor of Vi’s Mustang, can you bring ‘em in?”

Manny looked at Cal then me and said hesitantly, “Sure.”

“Mom cut her foot. She’s got stitches but she’s still wearin’ her pumps which makes her limp more than she normally limps. Joe doesn’t like that,” Kate explained helpfully.

“Women are weird like that,” Keira chimed in, defending my position even though Manny, being male, would never understand but she was too young to know that. Though, I figured in about five, ten years, she’d learn. “We have to be wearing the right shoes,” she finished.

Manny stopped looking confused and he grinned. “Then sure. We wouldn’t want Joe to get pissed, would we?” Cal tossed him my keys, Manny caught them and slid out of the booth, saying, “Be back.”

I again tried to tug my leg away. Cal’s response was to slide his fingers into my stocking and push it down so I froze.

“Would you show me your Bullitt car?” Kate asked Cal as he leaned forward and pushed the stocking further down my leg while lifting it to get to my calf and ankle (and I gritted my teeth).

“Take you for a ride, girl,” Cal answered and I stopped gritting my teeth because my mouth dropped open.

“Really?” Kate breathed.

“Yeah.”

“Can I drive it?” Kate asked.

Cal grinned which took the sting out of his, “No.”

“I like Mom’s Mustang,” Keira informed Cal.

“I do too,” Cal replied and Keira glared at Cal then at me as if Cal being a lunatic by being sweet and thoughtful and sharing and nice was my fault but Cal leaned back and this was mainly because he had the stocking free of my foot.

He dropped it in my lap, settled my leg on his thigh and I gave him a look which should have at least have set his hair on fire (but didn’t) and then I snatched the stocking up and tucked it into my purse.

“Drinks!” Aunt Theresa shouted as she made it to the table with a tray of drinks. “For the girls,” she announced, setting two Shirley Temples in front of Kate and Keira, two girls that were beyond Shirley Temples but, then again, I would drink those Shirley Temples because the bottoms were filled with maraschino cherries, at least half a dozen of them, and they were more red than pink so I knew they were full of syrup. “Beer for Cal,” she went on, plonking a bottle of beer in front of Cal. “And Chianti, for cara mia,” she finished, putting a huge-bowled glass of red wine in front of me then plunking the bottle next to it.

“Thanks um… Theresa,” I said.

“Aunt Theresa,” she corrected on a smile. “Breadsticks are comin’ outta the oven, antipasto platter’s up, Bella’s gettin’ it. Gotta check on my customers but I’ll be back.” Then she bustled off and we all watched her, even the girls turned in their seats.

Then the girls turned back.

“Your family’s cool,” Kate told Cal.

“Yeah girl, they are,” Cal told Kate and he meant this, I knew it by the way he said it, deep, weighty.

Kate knew it too because her eyes got soft as she looked at Cal then her soft eyes came to me.

I didn’t need to know this about Cal. I didn’t need to meet his family, see how he was with them, how they were with him, how nice it was, even beautiful. Furthermore, my daughters didn’t need to see it.

But I didn’t have any choice, Cal didn’t give me one and that pissed me off.

I tried to yank my leg away again but Cal just kept hold as Bella swept through, dropping a basket of long, poofy breadsticks on the table, a little bowl of marinara sauce at the side and a huge antipasto platter full of salami, pancetta, olives, artichokes, mushrooms and slices of cheese.

I decided to ignore Cal and concentrate on breadsticks. I grabbed one and found it was warm. Then I dipped it into the marinara sauce and took a huge bite. It was coated with buttery garlic, the bread light but doughy, the marinara tangy and spicy, the whole thing utterly delicious.

It took effort but I managed not to roll my eyes in delight.

“These are great!” Kate said through a full mouth then shoved her breadstick back in the marinara, double dipping like Cal was Tim or Sam and this was allowed. Then she took another huge bite.

“They are,” Keira stated, her mouth full too but, even so, I could tell she didn’t want to admit this in front of Cal but she couldn’t help herself, that was just how good they were.

During my last bite, Cal’s hand lifted my leg and he leaned into me, hooking it over my other leg so they were crossed. I looked at him to see he was looking at something across the restaurant, a small smile playing at his mouth and my eyes followed his.

That’s when I saw a man, tall, not as tall as Cal, but taller than Manny and Vinnie. He was wearing a skintight white t-shirt, jeans and he had a long, white apron wrapped around his waist. The tee miraculously had no tomato sauce stains on it. The apron was covered with smears.