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“Okay That’s tomorrow”

“Bruno isn’t going He refuses to But I’, of course I’ll never turn my back on my baby Never in a million years”

“I’d like to go”

“You can co, but I don’t know if they’ll let two of us in”

That doesn’t nes to be there when I talk to Tony

“You knohat?” I say “I don’t want to horn in on your visitation with your son”

“It’s okay, sweetie I’lad to see you”

Actually, he probably won’t Testimony from me will put him away for another decade or more But that’s not why I want to talk to him I need to find out how And why I just need some closure

I take a bite of cookie, che “No, Aunt Agnes, but thank you for being willing to take me

“If you’re sure” Aunt Agnes doesn’t push it She probably doesn’t want anyone horning in on her time with Tony either

I don’t blame her

Do I tell her? Tell her what her beloved son did to h?

Aunt Agnes was like a second mother to me In fact, she showed me more affection than my own mother ever did

I can’t do that to her

So much has been spoiled in my own life I can’t do it to someone else

“I should be going,” I say

“Don’t be silly You came all this way” She cocks her head “At least I assume you did From LA?”

I shake my head “I live in Manhattan now” By way of a South Pacific island where I was held captive for a freaking decade

“You are? Then you must come on Sundays for supper Please”

I’nes’s cookies sure tasted good “Maybe I will”

“I insist We’ll expect you this Sunday at four You remember, don’t you?”

I nod Sundays at Aunt Agnes’s were always an early dinner at four pm, and they were always an Italian feast

I usually went hoain of at least five pounds after a week in Brooklyn Myto be some wafer-thin runway model

Yeah, right

“All right, I’ll be here” I so now” I punch in the number to call a cab

“Where are you going? I can drive you Mr Luigi downstairs has an old Impala he lets me borrow sometimes”