“Oh you’re gonna tell me that he’s such a good boy?” Conchetta’s anger flared. “That he’d never do such at thing? That I’m crazy to think that?”
“No.” Flavia shook her round gray head. “I know my Nicky is not a good boy.”
“You do?” Conchetta asked, surprised.
“Youdo?” Mary repeated, equally surprised. “By the way, Flavia, what’s Stretch’s real name?”
“Sam Fortunato. Nicky calls him Stretch because he always stretches after he eats.” Flavia scowled. “Him, I don’t like. I tell Nicky all the time. That Stretch, he’s no good. He’s got a bad temper. I saw when he drove me once. He’s got road rage. It scared me.”
Sam Fortunato. Mary felt the name burn into her brain. Fortunato was probably the man Machiavelli had sent to kill John. She felt her pulse quicken. Now she had to decide what to do next.
Meanwhile, Flavia had resumed talking to Conchetta. “I wish Nicky were a good boy. I thought I raised him right. I tried to, after his father died. But he didn’t turn out good. I pray every day that he changes his ways.”
Paul took his mother’s arm. “Mom, okay, we’re done, you said it, we should go now—”
“No, I’m staying.” Conchetta pulled her arm back, her eyes remaining on Flavia. “Are you trying to tell me that you didn’t know that Nicky did that?”
“I didn’t know, my hand to God.” Flavia raised her hand, swallowing hard. “I’m very sorry that happened. That’s a terrible thing to do. And to a man in uniform, serving our country? I’m so ashamed.”
Conchetta frowned. “And you believe me, just like that?”
“Of course. You have no reason to lie.” Flavia tilted her head. “Now Nicky, he lies. He lies all the time. But I can tell when he lies. I know, I look right in his eyes, in hissoul. And I’m gonna talk to him about Joey and see what he says. I’ll know if he’s lying.”
Conchetta seemed nonplussed, disarmed by Flavia’s response. “He said you wanted my house. He told me. He told Joey. Was that a lie or the truth?”
“A lie. I never wanted your house. I never wanted anybody’s house but my own. What I wanted wasneighbors.”
Listening, Mary felt her words ring true. Conchetta’s frown turned sympathetic, as Flavia continued, her soft voice quavering.
“Nicky says he wants to treat me like gold, like a princess. But I don’t want to be a princess. He wants things for me, but I don’t want them.” Flavia gestured aimlessly, a flailing of her short arms. “I don’t need a house this big. I live alone. I only have Nicky, I don’t have any other kids. I never use any of these rooms. I get nervous when there’s too much room, like it’s outer space. I like to be where it’s cozy. I never leave the kitchen.”
“Oh yeah?” Lorraine called, from behind them. “You stay in the kitchen? Then how do you explainthis?”
Mary looked over to see Lorraine pointing at a wooden folding chair placed against the wall, next to a table tray that held several upside-down water glasses of various shapes and sizes.
Lorraine scowled, folding her arms. “You use the glasses and listen in to Conchetta’s house through the wall, don’t you, Flavia?”
“Youspyon us?” Conchetta frowned, dumbfounded. “On my family?”
Paul recoiled. “You spy on mymom?”
Ann, Margie, and everyone else turned to Flavia, who flushed under her papery skin. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I’m not spying. I’m just… listening. I can’t make out the words.”
“But why do youlisten?” Conchetta asked, but her tone wasn’t accusatory, just bewildered.
“There’s always something happening at your house, Conchetta.” Flavia shrugged her little shoulders. “You have such a big family, so many kids. Their wives and husbands and babies, and the new puppy.”
Paul flared his eyes. “You know about my cousin’spuppy?”
Flavia looked up. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it. I’m allergic to dogs, so I can’t have one. I won’t do it anymore.”
Mary and Conchetta exchanged glances, and Mary wasn’t sure what to say.
Conchetta pursed her lips, looking down at Flavia. “That’s creepy, Flavia. Not gonna lie.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Did you hear us today?”
