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Carlita reached into the restaurant’s to-go bag and removed the container marked “Violet.” “This is for you.”

“Thanks, Nana.” She carefully set it on her lap.

“You’re welcome.” She removed the second container and handed it to Mercedes. “This is for you, and this last one must be mine.”

Along with the food was a plastic bag filled with packets of parmesan cheese, napkins and plastic cutlery. “Arnie remembered everything.”

Violet opened the lid, grabbed the slice of garlic bread sitting on top, and took a big bite. “Yummy.”

Carlita opened the lid on her lunch. The tantalizing aroma of garlic mingled with fresh rosemary wafted out. Her mouth watered. “This looks fabulous.”

Mercedes smacked her lips. “Arnie is the best. He packed a favorite dish of mine—smoky red pepper pasta.”

“Peppers.” Violet, displaying a smidgen of drama, clutched her throat. “I don’t like peppers.”

Carlita chuckled. “They’re not hot. Besides, red peppers are good for you.”

The young girl crossed her arms, a suspicious look on her face. “But they’re red. I don’t like red food.”

“You like spaghetti and meatballs,” Mercedes said. “In fact, it’s your favorite dish.”

“I love s’getti and meatballs.”

Mercedes nudged her arm. “Maybe you’ll love red peppers as much as you love spaghetti and meatballs.”

“I won’t.”

“At least try it,” her grandmother said.

Violet shook her head, a stubborn gleam in her eye.

“If you don’t try it, you can’t have dessert.”

“What’s for dessert?”

Carlita peeked inside the bag. “Cookies with sprinkles.”

“Cookies.” Violet scrambled across the blanket. “Sprinkle cookies are my favorite.”

“Then I guess you’ll try the pasta.”

“Okay. But only a little in case it makes my stomach hurt,” the child bargained.

“It’s a deal. Try a bite. If you don’t like it, then you don’t have to eat it.”

Violet grabbed a fork and dug in.

Carlita waved her cutlery packet in her daughter’s direction. “Spoiled rotten. Arnie spoils you rotten.”

“Because I always volunteer to cover shifts when he’s short-staffed.”

“It’s true. You’re a hard worker.” Carlita shot Violet a furtive side glance. She was eating the pasta…not only eating it, but taking big bites.

Mercedes caught her mother’s eye and winked.

While they feasted, Violet shared stories about school and some of her friends. It seemed as if, right before Carlita’s eyes, the young girl had grown into a thoughtful and mature little lady.

In a small way, it made her sad to think that soon Violet would be too busy for picnics with her grandmother and aunt. She hoped not. The Garlucci and now Garlucci-Taylor families were a close-knit group.

Violet and Melody were part of the next generation. Carlita’s most fervent desire was to pass her businesses, all she had worked so hard to create, to her children so they could continue the family legacy long after she was gone.

The family legacy, at least as far as Tony was concerned. Paulie, the mayor of Clifton Falls, a small town about an hour north of New York City, might never move to Savannah. Regardless, he was in a good place, had a good job, and a loving family. If he stayed there for the rest of his life, Carlita would be content.

Her oldest son, Vinnie, was an entirely different story. On her husband’s deathbed, she’d promised to get their sons out of “the family,” aka the mob. The mafia. Organized crime in Queens, New York.

She’d kept her promise as far as Tony was concerned and had even been successful in helping Luigi Baruzzo, a former bodyguard for the Castellini family, break free.

Vinnie, unfortunately, was not only deeply involved in the family, but he was also married to the daughter of the deceased Vito Castellini, head of the mafia. Vinnie, his wife Brittney and their young son lived in New Jersey, where he managed one of the “family” casinos.

Although it was rarely discussed, she’d caught snippets of conversations that Brittney wanted out, wanted to move away to a more stable and less violent environment to raise their child. Which meant there was still hope, at least in Carlita’s mind, that she could keep her promise.

If they eventually left, she believed Vinnie Senior could finally rest in peace, knowing his sons and grandchildren were safe. Carlita hoped his dying wish wouldn’t end up being hers as well. Only time would tell.

“I ate every bite.” Violet proudly showed her grandmother the empty container.

“I guess the red peppers weren’t so bad after all.”

“They tasted like sauce.”

“Would you eat the pasta again?”

Violet nodded. “But maybe next time we can have s’getti.”

“Maybe.” Carlita plucked the packet of cookies from the bag and handed it to her.

She peeled back the plastic. Careful not to lose any of the sprinkles, she handed a cookie to her aunt. “One for Aunt Mercedes.” She gave the second cookie to Carlita. “One for Nana and one for me.”

“Thank you.” Carlita finished her pasta and bit into the cookie. “I’ve never been a huge fan of sugar cookies, but this is tasty.”

“The buttery treat melts in your mouth,” Mercedes mumbled. “I’m stuffed.”

“We’ll need to walk this off.”

Rambo, who had been sniffing around, looking for treats, plopped down in front of Carlita, guilting her with a sad puppy dog look. “Sorry, buddy. I don’t think there’s anything you can eat.”

“Hang on.” Mercedes tipped the paper bag over. A small serving of grilled chicken fell onto the blanket. “Arnie didn’t forget Rambo.”

“I’ll give Rambo his treats.” Violet peeled the lid off the container and began feeding the pup the pieces. “Can we go to the water when we’re done?”

“Of course.” Carlita began gathering up the containers and trash. She accidentally bumped the side of the stroller.

Melody started to stir. She blinked a few times and began kicking her feet.

“Someone is awake.” Carlita shoved the bag of trash in the bin beneath the stroller and carefully lifted her tiny granddaughter out.

The baby’s left hand jerked back and forth, as if trying to touch her grandmother’s face. Carlita leaned in, pressing the chubby fist to her cheek. “There’s our little ray of sunshine. Did you have a nice nap?”

Violet hopped over the blanket and chased after Rambo, who had gotten his second wind after devouring his treat. He collided with the back of the stroller. It began rolling.

Mercedes lunged forward, attempting to grab it. The stroller picked up speed and rolled down the hill, heading straight toward the sidewalk.

Carlita tightened her grip on the baby, watching in horror as her daughter chased after the runaway buggy. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a bicyclist cruising toward it on a direct collision course.

“Heads up!” Mercedes tried to warn the biker. It was too late. He collided with the stroller. For a second, Carlita was certain he was going to crash, but somehow he kept his balance. The baby’s buggy bounced off the concrete post and toppled onto its side.

The man on the bike came to a full stop. He hopped off and ran over to the stroller. “Oh my gosh. I’m sorry. I didn’t see it coming toward me.” He turned it upright, visibly relieved to discover it was empty.

Carlita, with Violet by her side and Melody in her arms, hurried down the incline. “Thank God I was holding the baby.” She shuddered, literally sick to her stomach at the thought that her granddaughter had been in the stroller only seconds earlier and could easily have been inside when it took off down the hill. “We must have forgotten to lock the wheels.”

“It’s too late now.” Mercedes frowned, tapping the side of the bent frame. “I don’t know if this can be fixed.”

Carlita shifted the baby to her other hip. “The wheel is crooked.”

Her daughter steered it forward. The wheel wobbled and pulled hard to the right. “Great. I don’t think this is gonna work.”

“Do you want me to try bending it back?” the biker offered.

“If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

The women and Violet hovered off to the side, watching as the man tried bending the bar connected to the wheel. He had limited success.

“Thank you.” Mercedes tried pushing it again. Although it was better, it made a grinding noise and still wobbled to the right.

“I’m sorry about the stroller,” he apologized.

“It’s not your fault. Thank you for trying to fix it.” Carlita waited until he rode off. “I guess we’ll have to walk home.”

The trio, with Rambo by their side, trekked back up the hill with Mercedes dragging the stroller behind her. “Let’s stop by the house to get the car,” Carlita said.

Ting…ting…ting…ting-a-ling.

“The trolley.” Violet hopped up and down. “Can we take the trolley, Nana?”

“That’s a great idea.” Carlita handed the baby to Mercedes. She stepped onto the edge of the street and flagged down her friend Claryce, “Reese” Magillicuddy, who ran the Walton Square / Bay Street trolley route.

Reese waved back and began applying the brakes. “Hold on, folks. We’re making an emergency stop.” She eased onto the edge near the curb and turned the trolley’s flashers on. “Hey, Carlita.”

“Hey, Reese. Melody’s stroller crashed, and the wheel got bent.”

Mercedes dragged it closer. “It’s gonna need a serious wheel alignment.”

“We have too much stuff,” Violet announced.

“There’s plenty of room for it right behind my seat. I must warn you we’ll be looping around which means you’ll be riding my entire route.”

“Gladly. Thank you, Reese. You’re a lifesaver.”

“I do have a knack for being in the right place at the right time.”

“Yes, you do.” Carlita slipped into an empty seat, making way for Mercedes, who was dragging the stroller up the trolley steps. “Reese to the rescue.”

“Reese to the rescue.” Violet giggled, repeating her aunt’s phrase. “Can we stop for ice cream?”