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I stand up. My uncle is not horsing around. He believes he is dying, and he has never lied to me. “Are you scared?”

“No. And I don’t want you to be scared either. This is the cycle of life. I went through it with my parents; you’ll go through it with yours. We get sick, we get old, and we die, and if we’re lucky, there’s family around to transition us from this side to the other. I pity the people that got nobody. I’m grateful I got you.”

“Do you believe in the afterlife?”

“I think it’s a requirement of membership in the Knights of Columbus. So, yes. I do.”

“Do you want to see a priest?” My voice breaks.

“When he makes his rounds. And not sooner. I have a rule regarding priests. Never call the rectory in the middle of the night unless you’re delivering a pizza. I don’t need a disgruntled cleric in here with an attitude. I want to go like I came in, unfettered by bullshit.”

“I won’t call the priest.” I begin to sweat like I’m manning the deep fryers at the zeppole tent at the Feast in the hottest week of July.

“One thing about the estate. Lil’s jewelry. When the time comes, that will go to her side. She has that whack-a-doodle sister, Carmel, and that strange niece. You know, Marina, the one that says she’s allergic to the sun, so she goes nowhere—that one. Like she needs a brooch. Where’s she goin’?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“You’re like a daughter to me and I want the company to stay in the family. You’ve been with me since high school.”

“College,” I correct him. “And only because I was a commuter and stayed local.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s right. You were scared to go away to college, and I was the beneficiary.”

“My college fund was lost in the 2008 market crash. Remember?” No one ever gets the details of my life right, not even Uncle Louie. “That’s right, you wouldn’t remember the date because Mom had sent you to the Island.”

“Regardless. You could’ve come to me. If you wanted to go away to school, I would’ve sent you. No questions asked.”

“I couldn’t ask you for help. Mom would’ve disowned me.”

“Right. Right.” Uncle Louie nods. “Philly and her grudges. Epic.”

I felt tremendous guilt whenever my mother and uncle had a falling-out, which, if I’m being honest, seemed to happen frequently through the years. I had to remain loyal to my mother, but I was torn. Aunt Lil and Uncle Louie are my godparents. I was in their house every chance I got. Their home was quiet, warm in the winter and cool in the summer. Nothing was broken. They had plush carpeting in every room. They never ran out of cold soda and potato chips. Aunt Lil and I would watchGeneral Hospitaltogether every day at three p.m. if I was around. Luke and Laura and Sonny and Carly were like family, even though they had better hair.

It was Uncle Louie who took me to see the Jonas Brothers in the city when I was fifteen. It was Uncle Louie who took me to my first ice show in Atlantic City,Holiday on Icewith Brian Boitano. I wanted to marry that ice skater someday. It was Uncle Louie who broke it to me that Brian would probably not want to marry me.

It was Uncle Louie who gave me my first diamond ring. It had a chip so small you had to rotate it in the noonday sun to see a glint of sparkle, but still, it was real. When it no longer fit, I wore it on a gold chain around my neck. Still do. It was Uncle Louie who criedthroughout my wedding and danced with every woman in the room at my reception before he formed the conga line that included our ninety-seven-year-old cousin Schemer Romano in his wheelchair.

My uncle has feted, celebrated, and done right by me all my life. No wonder it seems like I’ve been working for him for sixteen minutes instead of sixteen years. He roots for me, and he doesn’t have to; he could’ve been the typical Italian American godfather and given me a check for my birthday, a crisp fifty-dollar bill in a white, pearl-handled girl purse for my First Holy Communion, a novena card and an add-a-pearl gold necklace for confirmation, and a savings bond and extra cash to cover the plate when I got married. He’s done so much more for me than the obligatory gifting; he believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.

My uncle taught me a trade and sent me to apprentice with a draftsman to learn how to draw. He schooled me in marble: how to import it, work with it, and install it. I know how to deal with people because of him. He pushed me through my anxiety and past my fears. When I mastered my nerves, he noticed I could talk to people and was a good listener. I dab my eyes.

“Don’t cry. Doesn’t matter now, Jess. So what? What is college anyhow? You missed out on tailgates, group gropes, and beer pong.”

“They didn’t have tailgates for day students at Montclair State.” Doesn’t Uncle Louie realize I couldn’t care less about all I lost, because I could lose him?

“So you missed even less. Who needs a Philly cheesesteak on a soggy bun from the back of a station wagon anyhow? Forget it. That’s not us. We may not be kings, but we eat like them. You got a better education on the road with me than you ever would have gotten at sleepaway college. And I know for sure you ate betterlunches. Now. There are a few things you need to know. Specifically, the financial end.”

“Sal Martino is your accountant, right?”

“He has a set of books, yes. But there’s a second set.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s Capodimonte’s Marble and Stone. And then there’s the Elegant Gangster.”

“Who is he?”

“It,” he corrects me. “That’s my corporation in a secondary fiduciary position to the primary company.”