No one could have saved Dad.
He was flawed, Mom. Just a man with too many flaws, but he had some good about him. No one could have saved Dad. So many people tried and failed, especially Dad.
Florentino has brought his men to bury one of their own. My Dad.
Dad, the stereotypical Irishman, red hair, freckles, and a pug nose that turns red when he drinks too much, who tells outrageous stories, and drinks his patrons under the table before they know it’s a contest.
I’m in the cathedral’s rose garden. I run smack dab into a man. “Jordi, is that you?”
Will Jordi tell Mom about us? That Mike Dutton’s daughter spent a night with one of the mafioso? Mom doesn’t know and I want to keep it that way.
“Jordi, please don’t tell anyone that you know me.”
“I may or may not, Laura. You’ll have to wait and see.”
I walk-run to the cathedral. I pray Jordi doesn’t follow me. I feel the cathedral’s welcoming quiet. Stillness surrounds me. I check to see that Jordi d…