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“No,” he said back right away. “August is fine. Perfect.”
Roman cheered while I skipped across kitchen to give Muse a hug, and my mother sighed with a fulfilled look on her face. Flora Maria materialized next to us with a bottle of champagne from the wine fridge. This called for a toast.
While sipping on the bubbly, crisp drink, I stepped back and looked at mom, Gino, and Roman overwhelming Muse with questions. Hugo stepped away and came to sit next to me behind the kitchen island. His closeness sent chills down my back.
“Looks like Muse gave the boss an early Christmas present.”
“Yeah.” I smiled at him. “Are you really going to church tomorrow?”
Hugo was many things, but religious was not one of them.
“Looks like I am.”
I smirked in my champagne glass.
“You’re not even catholic.” He was christened as an orthodox, not that he cared.
“Are you going to tell your mother that? Because I’m not looking to be slapped with the spoon again.”
“Well, it will be fun.” I looked away so he couldn’t see the devilish smile I had on. “You’ll see.”
~~~
On Christmas morning, St. Patrick’s was crowded with worshippers. Even if it was right here in New York City, I rarely came here. Mother was very persuasive about seeing Gino and I in church every weekend, but this congregation was very different than the suburban community of Great Neck. Here, under the tall, white arches covering us like a gothic umbrella, the cream of New York gathered to witness the service. It had more to do with the social obligation than celebrating the birth of our Lord and Savior.
Mother, Lola, Muse and Aunt Patty, all dressed in beautiful white dresses, took their places in the front pew, while Gino and Roman stayed behind to shake hands with some suits that I was pretty sure were city officials. They whispered something to each other, and one of them pointed to the other side of the nave where the mayor and his wife were exchanging pleasantries with another elderly couple. The mayor nodded to my brother discreetly, then shifted his gaze away. Of course, he would never publicly associate with the Nucci family, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know us. Oh, New York, you beautiful, corrupt city.
My Uncle Pepe, Frank Sr, Vincenzo and the twins were laughing about one of the statues in the nativity scene, and I prayed to God mom didn’t hear them. I was waiting in the central aisle for them to sit down so I could find my own place, and Bianca was on my right, looking across the pew, where Hugo was shifting uncomfortably from one leg to another.
“Stop looking at him,” I hissed in her ear.
“I’m not looking at him.”
“Yes, you are. Stop. You’re gonna get me in trouble.”
“Calm down, Cat. No one is paying attention anyways.”
“Hugo is. He already threw a fit when he found out I told you about us.” I looked at him again and this time found him watching me with a hawk’s eye. “Go find your seat.”
I made my way through the sea of people to get to Hugo, and he greeted me with a deep frown. As usual.
“Are you gossiping with Bianca about me?”
“Of course not. We’re in church, Monster, and gossip is a sin. Can’t find your place?”
He looked up at the altar and then back at me.
“My place is nowhere near God, princess.”
Maybe not, but his place was near me.
People started to take their places, and I moved quickly to my mom’s side, tapping her on the shoulder.
“Yes, dear.”
“I’ll sit in the back with Hugo.”
“Sure, dear. Make sure he pays attention.”
