She snorted like a hog, and my eyes went wide as I tried not to laugh.
“Nana!”
“Bullshit!” she replied. “Everyone in this damn house is selfish.”
“Exactly!” I nodded to her.
“You’re more selfish,” she added, putting me in my place, and I couldn’t help but pout like a kid. We were all kids to her anyway. She linked arms with me and said, “But your selfishness is nowhere near big enough to be the root cause of this family’s issues. Ethan and Helen needed an emotional punching bag, and because you have a bad habit of choosing the worst times to speak to people—”
“Hey—”
“They took their anger out on you,” she finished.
“So, what am I supposed to do?”
“Take it.” She shrugged. “You’ve done it to them dozens if not hundreds of times, and they forgave you and moved on because that is what family is for. Let them sort themselves out, and you keep focused on what you’re supposed to do.”
“You don’t think I need to be less selfish?”
“Taking their abuse is already being less selfish, so you are. Besides, knowing what you want and doing it…is not always a bad thing. Many times, especially in this family of master planners and strategists, it’s a good thing. It makes you human. It makes other people in this family stand up for what they really want, too. I’d be sad if you changed who you were, Wyatt. You’re just as your mother made you…perfect in your own way.”
I paused for a moment before glancing at my watch. It was after five. I’d called my uncles for a meeting, which was why I was in Ethan’s study anyway. “You came to give me a pep talk before I talk to Uncle Neal and Uncle Declan?”
She grinned. “What else can a grandmother do but give pep talks? Hell, I live for these moments. You all never remember me until you’re hurt.”
“Nana—”
“No. No. It’s fine. I get it. Everyone is grown now,” she said, obviously to further add to my guilt as she walked back to the door.
“Nana…let’s have our own welcome-back-to-Chicago dinner soon, I want to know all about what it takes to live to a ripe old age in this family.” I grinned, knowing she’d want to smack me.
“Call me old again you little shit, and you’ll never make it to thirty,” she replied, and I laughed as she went.
“Love you!” I yelled back toward her.
SLAM!
She’d slammed the door so hard it didn’t even close fully, slightly swinging back open, allowing my uncles to walk into the study. Neal grinned. “You called her old, didn’t you?”
“All I said is I wanted her to teach me how to live as long as she has in this family,” I said.
“Must you fight with everyone?” Declan asked, walking over to the bar.
“Yes,” I nodded. “It’s part of my charm.”
He laughed, walking over to me with a new drink. “You know I never thanked you for what you did.”
I took the glass, not sure what he was talking about. It must have been clear on my face because he added, “Helen. Back then…I was stuck. I wasn’t sure what to do. Your parents wanted things to be done quietly, your aunt was on the verge of a breakdown, and I missed my daughter. You took all the blame, and we got what we wanted. I got what I wanted. Don’t worry about Helen, I’ll talk to her later.”
I nodded, not wanting to rehash this. Luckily, my uncle Neal didn’t want to be out of the loop, either. He pointed to the 1937 Map of the United States Showing Routes of Principal Explorers and Early Roads on the side of the wall between the bookshelves.
“Sayalero is now in control of Miami. Rocha has Houston. Villalobos has from New Mexico to southern California,” Uncle Neal said, reading the lines on the map. Every year Ethan sent us information for the new code. Cartels and other mafia families that were trying to rise up against us, to steal our network for trade. The code matched the lines of the old map in our family study.
“They’re trying to cut us off in the south,” Uncle Declan added, staring at the map. “To do that and not fight each other…”
“Means they’re working together,” I finally spoke. “They’ve been ambushing our routes from South America, something they found out through Tobias, and the Italians backing Savino have been helping them. Dona had the ones she found out taken care of. But it still doesn’t change the fact that…”
“We’ve lost at least half the Italians,” Uncle Declan muttered.
“And the ones we have are now terrified because of your actions at the OC,” Uncle Neal responded, glancing over to me.
“I did what I had to do to stop the bleeding,” I replied, looking at the lines throughout the south. “Fear will at least stop anyone else from turning coat until Ethan gets back and figures out how to unite them again. The ones who did betray us and didn’t get caught, it’s only a matter of time until people begin to turn them over.”
“Fucking grunts…after everything we’ve done for them,” Uncle Neal grumbled as he brought his glass up to his lips, stating before he drank, “At least we always have the Irish.”
“That isn’t enough, Uncle,” I snapped, moving to sit on the couch, leaning back into the seat. “There is rebellion rising against us on every front. Don’t praise the Irish, they were just put in their place because of Ethan…they won’t try anything for the time being. But if it looks like we are losing, they’ll abandon us, too. I don’t trust them and neither should you. Things have changed from back in your day.”
“Back in our day, look at him as if we’re from the stone age,” Uncle Neal snickered, moving to sit on the couch across from me. “The drug wars never change, Wyatt.
