Chapter 8 - An Invitation Nobody Wanted
The threat made Sal call his lawyer before he called Victor back. He had never put much faith in men who said they could make every problem disappear. He'd employed too many of them.
His attorney, Julia Serrano, listened while Sal described the truck, the door incident, and Victor's warning. She waited through his long pauses.
“Are you asking how to keep this quiet,” she said, “or how to stop it?”
Sal rubbed his knee. “I don't know how to separate those two things anymore.”
“Then don't pretend you do. Bring me the documents you actually have. We'll decide what needs to be disclosed and to whom. Don't destroy anything, and don't call witnesses to tell them what to say.”
Sal ended the call feeling older than he had that morning.
Across town, Malik was pulled off the door schedule. The shift supervisor said the reassignment was temporary. He handed Malik a security shirt two sizes too small and told him to work stockroom inventory instead.
“Victor wants me out of the way,” Malik told Nora when she called about his statement.
“You still work for him.”
“For now.”
“Why did you take that job?”
“My sister's medical bills. My niece's after-school program. Pick whichever one makes me sound less stupid.”
Nora had wanted him to be somebody simple to hate. His answer made that harder without making what he did acceptable.
That Friday Sal came to their apartment carrying a paper bag from the bakery near the old family house. Nora didn't invite him in. Ben stood behind her, wiping his hands on a towel.
“I wanted to see Rosie,” Sal said.
“You don't get to surprise her,” Nora replied.
“Understood.”
Rosie heard his voice and came into the hallway. She recognized him immediately.
“Did you clean Captain Sunday?” Sal asked.
“Mom did. His ear's still bent.”
“I noticed.”
He held out the bakery bag. Inside were six plain rolls. No diamonds, no new bear, nothing he could use to purchase forgiveness.
Rosie looked at Nora before accepting one. Sal noticed that too.
They ate in the kitchen, awkwardly. Sal asked about school. Rosie talked for three minutes about a classmate who had glued macaroni to his elbow. Ben almost smiled. Then Sal mentioned the truck and the room grew stiff.
“Let's not do business at her table,” Nora said.
Sal set down his roll. “You're right.”
Before he left, Rosie said, “Do you have a little girl at your house?”
“No.”
“Did you used to?”
Sal looked at Nora. “Yes.”
“Where did she go?”
Nora opened her mouth, but Sal spoke first.
“She got tired of waiting for me to listen.”
Rosie thought about that. “Maybe you should practice.”
Later that night, Victor texted Nora a picture of the bakery bag on her kitchen table. Somebody had photographed Sal entering her building.
May you like
Under the picture he wrote: Dad always did buy the wrong people breakfast.
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