out of one of the big bowls and put it on Reenaâs plate himself. âSo this boy, this Joey Pastorelli, he hit you.â
âHe hit me in the stomach and he knocked me down and hit me again.â
Poppi breathed through his noseâand he had a big one, so the sound reminded her of the one a bull makes before it charges. âWe live in an age when men and women are meant to be equal, but itâs never right for a man to hit a woman, for a boy to hit a girl. But . . . did you do something, say something, to this boy so he thought he had to hit you?â
âI stay away from him because he starts fights in school and in the neighborhood. Once he took out his pocketknife and said he was going to stab Johnnie OâHara with it because he was a stupid mick, and Sister took it away from him and sent him to Mother Superior. He . . . he looks at me sometimes and it makes my stomach hurt.â
âThe day he hit you, what were you doing?â
âI was playing with Gina, at the school playground. We were playing kickball, but it was so hot. We wanted ice cream so she ran home to see if her mother would give her some money for it. I had eighty-eight cents, but thatâs not enough for two. And he came up and said I should come with him, that he had something to show me. But I didnât want to and I said no, that I was waiting for Gina. His face was all red, like heâd been running, and he got mad and grabbed my arm and was pulling me.So I pulled away and said I wasnât going with him. And he hit me in the stomach. He called me a name that means . . .â
She broke off, looked toward her parents sheepishly. âI looked it up in the dictionary.â
âOf course you did,â Bianca murmured, then she waved a hand in the air. âHe called her a little cunt. Itâs an ugly word, Catarina. We wonât speak it again in this house.â
âNo, maâam.â
âYour brother came to help you,â Poppi continued. âBecause heâs your brother and because itâs right to help someone in trouble. Then your father did what was right, and went to speak to this boyâs father. But the man was not a man, he didnât stand up and do what was right. He struck out to hurt your father in a cowardly way, to hurt all of us. Was this your fault?â
âNo, Poppi. But it was my fault I was too scared to fight back. I wonât be next time.â
He gave a half laugh. âLearn to run,â he said. âAnd if you canât run, then you fight. Now.â He sat back, picked up his fork. âHereâs my advice. Salvatore your brother-in-law has a construction business. When we know whatâs needed, you can get this for us, at a discount. Gio, your wifeâs cousin is a plumber, yes?â
âIâve already talked to him. Whatever you need, Bianca, Gib.â
âMag, will you talk to the insurance company, see what hoops we can avoid jumping through to get this check?â
âMore than happy to. Iâd like to look at the policy, see if there might be anything weâd want to change or adjust for the future. Then thereâs the matter of the criminal action against this . . .â She lifted her eyebrows at Reena. âThis person. If it goes to trial, Reena will most likely be required to testify. I donât think it will,â she continued. âIâve put out some feelers. Typically arson cases are very difficult to prove, but they appear to have this one locked.â
She wound pasta around her fork as she spoke, ate economically. âYour investigators were very thorough, and the fire-starter very stupid. Theprosecutor feels heâs going to take the plea bargain to avoid the possibility of being tried for attempted murder. Theyâve got evidence up the yin-yang, including the fact that he was questioned twice before regarding other fires.â
Mag twirled
Mary Beard, Keith Hopkins