Page 55 of Time Served in New York
“She went to hang out with her friend Carol again this morning,” I explained.
“Carol is the wife that was in the hospital?” Luca clarified.
I nodded and answered, “Yes, that’s her. She’s been Birdie’s best friend since college, I believe.”
“And she’s doing better now?”
Luca nodded and said, “I was wondering the same thing.”
“He hurt her really badly, but she’s on the mend, as far as I know. Birdie talks to her pretty often, and she was excited to go see her today.”
“She’s in limbo,” Matteo said before he sighed. “Until we do our thing, she’s gonna be looking over her shoulder.”
“True. That sucks, man,” Luca said. “I wonder if we can move up the timeline. I’ll talk to the guys and see what they have to say.”
“I’m sure Birdie would appreciate that.”
We made small talk as we walked, and when they turned down 77th Street, I knew exactly where they were taking me.
“Oh damn,” I said as I caught sight of the bakery at the end of the block. “If you try to walk me past that, I’m gonna disappear inside. You two can go on, and I’ll roll my way back to the hotel after I’ve eaten my fill.”
“I remember one of the first times we met you in the city, you mentioned you were dying to have a bagel with cream cheese and lox from this place,” Luca recalled.
“Your grandfather used to bring me here when I was a kid,” I mused as we stopped in front of the shop that held a million memories of my father and his associates meeting for a quick bite and coffee.
“Well, go in,” Matteo said as he held the door open. “Some associates of ours are in town for the wedding, and one of their relatives owns this bakery.”
Once I was inside, Luca walked past me and down a short hall where there was a guard standing beside an unmarked door. He opened the door as we approached and then pulled it shut behind us.
“Welcome, my friends,” a well-dressed man said as he stood and dropped his napkin next to his plate. He walked around the table and greeted my sons with handshakes before he even glanced my way.
“Moshe Holofcener, this is our father, Valentine Russo.”
After Luca introduced me, I stuck my hand out and shook his. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“And you,” Moshe said as he let go of my hand. “I’m glad you could join us for breakfast. Our other associates should be here momentarily. Your son said you had a craving for a good bagel.”
“I’ve been all over the country and eaten in hundreds of different places, but I’ve never found a bagel with lox that’s as good as the ones here.”
“Let me introduce you to my friends. Jonah, Zeppo, this is Valentine Russo, Luca and Matteo’s father.”
I greeted the men with handshakes, and we exchanged pleasantries. We had all just settled down at the table when the door opened again. Luca and Matteo introduced me to their Irish friends, Darragh, Ciaran, and Declan O’Sheeran.
“You look a little shell-shocked, Dad,” Luca said as everyone began making their choices from the array of food that had been set out against one wall, talking and laughing as if this were just any normal day.
“I was just thinking that your grandfather is probably spinning in his grave at the thought of you sitting in a room with these guys, just hanging out peacefully. All we need now is . . .” The door opened and Cento Moretti walked in with Ziggy Romano. “Damn. Twenty years ago, I would haveneverimagined any of this shit.”
“It’s a whole new world,” Luca said with a grin.
“A world that all of you are running. It’s a pretty monumental achievement, son. I just want you and your brother to be careful, okay?”
“We’ve got this, man. Don’t worry,” Matteo said from my other side.
“I understand you left Uncle Don alive.”
Luca shook his head sadly and said, “He’s been nothing but trouble.”
“I’ve never had any love for Uncle Don. Why didn’t you just kill him to send a message?” I asked. I shook my head and sighed. “Fuck. I can’t believe I just said that to my kids.”
