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“That cleared the stench.”

“Nope. Got in the walls.” Mom nods sadly. “And their pipes burst.”

I look at my mother; she’s getting older. How do I let go and hold on with the same pair of hands? We don’t have much time. “You were a wonderful mother.”

“Was I?”

“You pushed me.”

“Did I?”

“Just enough.”

“Do you think my brother loved me?” Mom begins to cry. “Louie was so hard to love because I wanted to kill him half the time.”

“He loved you, Ma. He always came back when you let him off the Island, didn’t he?”

“We’d pretend that nothing had ever happened. That was the best part.” Mom looks off and smiles as if she sees her brother coming through the door for Sunday dinner. “The sonofabitch-bastard.”

24

Italian French Toast

My mother setsthe dining room table like William and Kate are stopping by for a bagel. The silver Italian cutwork lace, English china, and French crystal look like a yard sale inBridgerton. After a funeral, our kitchen becomes an open all-night diner, with three squares served around the clock for guests, drop-ins, and family.

My father is in the kitchen making French toast from the leftover bread Mom didn’t use to make the tea sandwiches. This is a family that wastes nothing, including the ends of Pepperidge Farm bread. Mom has put out the best silver to impress our guests from Italy. Mom made the beds for Angelo and Mauro at Aunt Lil’s. Conor and Gaetano stayed in Sea Girt with his sister’s family because I nixed the notion of anyone staying in the cellar.

Mom looks out the dining room window. “Connie and Diego are here. They’re early,” she grouses. “For once, I’d like to have my table just so before the crowd descends.”

“Ma, it’s just French toast. Relax.” I close my eyes and inhale the scents of butter, cinnamon, and vanilla wafting in from the kitchenas Dad flips the bread in the pan. Thera-Me has taught me to stay in the moment. I find whenever I do, I make a memory.

“We dropped the girls at school,” Connie says as she enters the dining room. “I’ll finish the table.” Connie takes the stack of dishes off the sideboard and sets them around the table. “Ma, Diego and I want to talk to you about something.”

“Do we need your father?” Mom calls for him.

Dad joins us in the dining room. “What’s up?”

“We would like to buy Grandma Cap’s house,” Diego says, looking at Connie. She nods supportively.

“It would be a good investment,” Mom says. “People flip houses in Lake Como and make a lot of money. Just don’t flip it to someone who would be a lousy neighbor for us.”

“We want to live in it,” Diego says.

“No kidding,” Dad says.

“You want to live in Lake Como?” Mom looks at Connie.

“The kids go to Saint Rose, and it would be closer.”

Mom smiles. “I would love to have you and the kids down the street. I’m still cleaning out the house. What are you thinking?”

“As soon as our house sells,” Diego says.

“I will give you a very good deal.As isbecause the house needs work.” Mom follows Dad and Diego into the kitchen.

“What happened? Why the move?” I ask my sister.

“Diego was let go,” Connie says quietly. “The fund he was working for collapsed. He needs to find another job. We put everything we had into our house. It’s a good time to sell. The kids are getting bigger. We have three college funds to save for. Honestly? It’s overwhelming. We need to scale back.”