Chapter 2 - Pancakes With a Criminal
I canceled three meetings the following morning.
Two union negotiations.
One sit-down with men who would probably interpret my absence as either disrespect or preparation for murder.
Let them wonder.
At seven forty-five, I stood outside St. Matthew's Preschool wearing dark jeans, a navy sweater, and a leather jacket.
No suit.
No tie.
No convoy.
Noah had specifically forbidden all three.
He stared at me critically.
“You still look scary.”
“I tried.”
“You could smile.”
“No.”
“Okay.”
Elena laughed before catching herself.
Gabriel stood beside her.
I looked at him.
He stopped smiling.
Noah grabbed my hand.
“Come on, Uncle Dominic.”
Uncle Dominic.
God help me.
Inside the classroom, paper stars hung from the ceiling.
Children sat at tiny tables eating pancakes.
Parents talked.
Teachers smiled.
Nobody knew that the man squeezing himself into a plastic chair beside Noah had ordered six illegal gambling rooms closed the previous week.
A little girl across from us pointed at my hands.
“Why do you have tattoos?”
“Poor judgment.”
Noah shook his head.
“He's a businessman.”
“What business?”
I looked at Noah.
Noah looked at me.
“Shipping.”
Technically true.
The teacher approached.
“Mr. Caruso?”
“Yes?”
“Noah says you're his hero.”
I looked at him.
He was pouring approximately half a bottle of syrup onto one pancake.
“I haven't done anything.”
Noah stopped.
“Yes, you did.”
“What?”
“You gave Mama the day off.”
I glanced toward Elena.
She stood near the classroom door.
Gabriel beside her.
Noah lowered his voice.
“Mama cries when she thinks I don't see.”
The noise of the classroom seemed to disappear.
“She worries about money.”
I said nothing.
“But Uncle Gabe makes her laugh.”
I looked toward Gabriel.
He wasn't watching me.
He was watching Elena.
And suddenly I understood why he had hidden them.
Gabriel didn't fear me.
He feared our world touching theirs.
After breakfast, Noah pulled me toward the playground.
“You promised swings.”
“I don't remember promising.”
“You came here. That means yes.”
Apparently negotiations with preschoolers operated differently.
For forty minutes, the most feared man in South Philadelphia pushed a four-year-old toward the sky.
“Higher!”
“No.”
“Higher!”
“You'll fall.”
“Uncle Gabe goes higher.”
Of course he did.
I pushed harder.
Noah screamed with laughter.
Then I heard Elena behind me.
“You're surprisingly good at that.”
“I've intimidated grown men with less effort.”
She smiled.
Gabriel approached carrying coffee.
He handed one to Elena without asking what she wanted.
She accepted it without checking.
That tiny familiarity bothered me more than anything else.
Because it meant this had been happening for a long time.
“You love her,” I said.
Gabriel stopped.
Elena looked away.
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
No excuse.
Just yes.
“And Noah?”
Gabriel watched the boy swinging.
“I'd die for him.”
Elena's eyes filled immediately.
I studied my oldest friend.
Then something occurred to me.
“Why hasn't she told him?”
Elena stiffened.
Gabriel's expression changed.
“Told him what?”
I looked between them.
Gabriel stared at Elena.
“Elena?”
She went pale.
May you like
And I realized I had just stepped into a secret even Gabriel didn't know.
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