The crowd at the church was a strange mix of military, civilians, and criminals but the people who come to the reception are for the most part familiar. They’re old school friends and the handful of J.J.’s shipmates who were able to make it. We don’t have any extended family who could make it, so everyone we know here is a friend or neighbor.
It doesn’t make it easier for me to relax. When the last guest leaves several hours later and there’s no one left but my family and our host’s family, I’m ready to keel over from both sadness and exhaustion. I’m also fucking done with wearing this uniform for the foreseeable future.
It turns out that the older woman with Arturo is his housekeeper, Elena, who also happens to be Toni’s mom. So it makes sense when I catch Sam trying to butter her up by bringing her refreshments when he isn’t bending Toni’s ear. Toni’s been under his spell all afternoon, despite Marco’s efforts to horn in. I have to give Sam props for how smoothly he’s endeared himself to his idol. I just hope he knows to steer clear of Toni’s brothers, who are giving both of my brothers the evil eye. Marco isn’t about to pursue a woman he can’t stick around for though, so I’m pretty sure he’s just trying to give Sam a little competition to keep him on his toes. If it were any more than that, Sam would probably take issue.
Watching the mini dramas unfold is easier than actually interacting, and Leo and Celeste take turns spending time at my side. At the end I can finally breathe enough to talk.
“Was Manny’s funeral like this?” I ask when the caterers start clearing out.
“Different crowd, but yeah,” Leo says. “He saved Celeste’s life, so he earned it.”
“She saved our lives this time.”
“That she did.” He doesn’t say more and we sit in silence for a few seconds, both absorbing what he’s left unsaid—the regret that help didn’t come a little sooner, that had J.J. lived, we might’ve been celebrating Gustavo’s capture instead of having a wake for another casualty of his bullets.
“Oh, shit,” I blurt, that thought reminding me of the item I stashed in my pocket when I got dressed this morning. I pull out the black, velvet-covered box and hold it out to Leo. He stares down at it like I’m handing him a live grenade.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on one knee or something?” he asks with a quirk of his lips.
“Dude, does this look like a fucking ring box to you?” The box is about four inches long and almost as wide, so pretty obvious it isn’t for an engagement ring. “This is something you left at my place. I’m just giving it back.” I push it toward him again and he finally takes it.
Celeste slips up beside him as he opens the box. Her hand flies to her mouth when she sees what it contains. “Is that . . .” She looks at me, leaving the question hanging and I nod, heart pounding.
“It’s the bullet I pulled out of you that night. I don’t know how much of Manny’s blood was still on it, but I had it sealed and put on a chain as-is.”
Leo’s eyes are wide as he reaches in and lifts up the necklace by the silver ball chain. The bullet dangles in front of his face, a small, macabre, six-petal blossom of mangled metal and dried blood. I kind of hate the thing, but I also knew Leo would love it. He blindly hands Celeste the box and loops the chain over his head. When he hauls me into his arms, he’s shaking, and fuck if his tears don’t set me off for real this time.
We hold each other for an eternity, the world spinning around us, and despite the bubble of grief we share, I’m aware of Celeste’s light touch on my cheek. Her fingers first, then her lips, and somehow I know she does the same for him, as if she’s our guardian angel, blessing us both with her light and love.
The room is silent when we finally part, but we’re not alone. My family is waiting in the archway near the foyer, and I give Leo and Celeste an apologetic look. “I need to get them home.”
Marco shakes his head. “Brother, what you need is to stay right here. We can take care of ourselves. I’m here until New Year’s, so we’ll have time to catch up.”
“Is it okay?” I ask Celeste, suddenly self-conscious about the prospect of spending the night with her and Leo in her father’s house. I glance toward the long row of french doors that line the wall of the expansive living room, instinct somehow drawing my attention to the man in question. He’s deep in conversation with Toni and seems to hang on her every word, but he glances up when my gaze rests on him. He gives Toni a pat on the cheek, and I straighten as he starts toward me. He keeps walking past, then takes Mom’s hands in his and looks deep into her eyes.
“Anything within my power to give is yours, Marcella. You only have to say the word.”
Mom sets her jaw and nods once. “Thanks, Arturo, but you’ve done more than enough.”
“I’ll have Jerry drive you home then. Take care.” He kisses Mom on the cheek, shakes hands with Marco and Sam in turn, then pauses in front of Elle. She returns his gaze without flinching and he studies her for a few seconds longer before patting her on the cheek
