A Family Affair: The Secret Read Free Page B

Ventori cared about was guarding the family name like his father and grandfather had, and making sure no one brought shame to it, especially not a Ventori.
    The old man’s lack of faith in him shouldn’t still gnaw at Roman like a ripped-open scab, not after fourteen years. So why did it? Roman scowled and thrust the shovel into the hard soil, intent on unearthing the next dead bush. Why the hell did it still matter? The answer stared back at him from the end of his shovel. It mattered because family was supposed to stick together, no matter what, believe in you, even when no one else did. They were supposed to pull you out of hell, and if they couldn’t, they were supposed to stand by you, denounce the naysayers and nonbelievers until you could pull yourself out.
    “Roman?” His mother’s voice drifted to him from the back porch, soft at first and then louder. “Roman?”
    He glanced up, swiped the back of a gloved hand over his forehead. “Hey, Mom.” Lorraine Ventori offered him a smile, moved toward him carrying two glasses of water. People said if it weren’t for her level headedness, Sal’s Market would have gone out of business months after opening. The old man might know how to spot a solid head of endive and how to make a person want it, but he’d just as soon give it away than charge for it. They have five mouths to feed , he’d say, or He just had knee surgery and is out of work . It was always a sad story tied to food or lack thereof, and Salvatore could not stand to think of an empty belly. But if it hadn’t been for Lorraine stepping in and taking over the business end, the empty bellies might have belonged to the Ventoris.
    “You shouldn’t be working in this heat. It’s not good for you.” His mother handed him a glass of water, added a reprimand to it. “Drink up; you need to replace your fluids.” She thought her son needed someone to look after him since he didn’t have a wife anymore. What would she say if he told her Jessica hadn’t been interested in looking after him, a baby, or anyone other than herself? He was not going to give his mother any more ammunition to badmouth the ex-wife she’d warned him against marrying. Yeah, well. Once again, the mother sees what her children can’t, or refuse to, see. Roman removed a work glove, accepted the glass, and drank. It felt good to work up a sweat that didn’t come from a gym.
    “I thought I’d run to the store and pick up a few things for dinner.” Those dark eyes slid to his face, drew him in. “I could wait for you to get cleaned up and we could go together.”
    He ignored the hope swirling through her words and shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
    The eyes grew bright, brighter still, but she didn’t look away. No, she plowed on as though she actually thought he should say yes. “I want you to come to the store. See what he’s done with it.” And then, a quiet sigh followed by, “Your father’s heart attack is a sign to make amends, Roman. You might not get another chance.”
    “Amends? For telling a truth he didn’t want to believe?” It had all happened so long ago, they didn’t talk about it anymore, hadn’t in years, and yet the incident and the fallout that had damaged Roman and his father’s relationship lived and breathed just below the surface, festering, oozing, threatening to erupt given the right conditions. Like now. Or with Roman standing in the hospital room and his old man staring at him with those black eyes and working up enough oxygen in his lungs to tell him he hadn’t needed to come. Because his father didn’t want him here or because Salvatore Ventori didn’t think his situation was critical? Or had he pumped out the words because he thought he still ran the show, even hooked up to monitors and IVs?
    All of the above. And Lorraine Ventori could deny it all she wanted, try to smooth it out like a ball of pizza dough, but Roman had seen the disappointment in his father’s eyes, the same