Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
TONY
I had to admit, Brendan’s artwork was way better than I’d expected. There were landscapes of lush, rolling green hills that could only be somewhere in Ireland. I’d been there once before and swore there were shades of green there I’d never seen anywhere else.
The landscapes appeared to be his earlier works because, as I went along, his paintings became more complex.
There were cliffs framed by the crashing surf, the ruins of a long-abandoned castle being reclaimed by the plants and trees around it, and one of the colorful houses that the city of Cork was famous for.
The last painting took my breath away. It was of a young redheaded boy, no more than ten years old, standing on the beach laughing, his blue eyes alight with joy. I wondered if it was a self-portrait.
“He’s really good,” Greg said.
“Yeah, he is,” I replied. I gestured to where Brendan was standing, surrounded by a group of men and women who were asking him questions or complimenting his work.
“Is your cousin here yet?” he asked.
I shook my head. “He got tied up with business. He’ll be here in about twenty minutes.”
Greg gestured toward Brendan. “We should go chat with him. Let him know we’re here.”
Brendan’s eyes lit up when he saw us approach. He excused himself and came to greet us. “Greg, I’m so glad you could make it.”
His gaze slid over to me, and I realized he didn’t know who I was. I’d only met him one time. I held out my hand. “I’m Tony.”
“My boyfriend,” Greg added, which made my heart do all sorts of funny things.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Tony,” he said. I noticed his Irish brogue was thicker than it usually was when he was working. I’d bet this whole exhibit thing was stressful for him.
“Your paintings are amazing,” Greg enthused. “They’re all Ireland, right?”
There was a hint of sadness in his smile. “Aye. I miss home sometimes. Painting it makes me feel better.”
A middle-aged woman with long dark hair pulled back in a braid came up to us. “Sorry for interrupting, Brendan, but there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
Brendan nodded. “I’ll be right over.” He turned to us and said, “Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it.”
Greg and I wandered around the rest of the exhibit, but we continued to be drawn back to Brendan’s work. “I’m thinking about buying the one with the castle,” Greg said. “I love the detail in it.”
“That’s a good one,” I agreed. “I was thinking about getting the painting of the Cliffs of Mohr.”
“Tony.”
I turned with a smile at the sound of my cousin’s voice. “Sal. You made it.” I gave him a hug in greeting. I turned and gestured Greg forward. “This is my boyfriend, Greg.”
Sal’s smug smile said everything. He held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Greg.”
“Same,” Greg replied. His gaze darted between my cousin and me. “The family resemblance is strong.”
“Except for the height,” I teased. “I got that from my father.”
Sal nudged me. “Yeah, yeah. You D’Angelos are all giants.”
With a chuckle, I gestured toward Brendan’s paintings. “Have you seen Brendan’s work yet?”
“No, I haven’t,” he replied.
We walked with Sal while he perused Brendan’s exhibit. He stood the longest in front of the painting of the boy on the beach. His gaze drifted over to the man himself before coming back to the painting. “I wonder what stole his joy,” my cousin murmured.
Before I could figure out how to respond, my phone vibrated with a call.
I was going to ignore it, but then it stopped and started again right away.
Fuck. It was Marco’s signal that something was very wrong and needed to answer the call.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and swiped to answer.
“What’s wrong?” I asked without preamble.
My brother’s voice was hoarse when he answered. “Pops had a heart attack. It’s bad, Tony.”
“When?” I asked, fear clogging my throat.
“About twenty minutes ago. Liam and I were visiting, and he just collapsed. Liam kept him stable while I called 9-1-1.” There was a long pause before he spoke again. “Mom’s a wreck. She wants you and Michael here.”
“Of course…I just have to get my car…” My head was foggy. I couldn’t think.
Suddenly, Greg was standing in front of me. “Tony. What’s wrong?”
“My dad had a heart attack. I have to go to Jersey.”
I heard an exclamation from Sal, and Greg gently took my phone from my hand. I heard him speaking to Marco. My cousin took hold of my arm and guided me to a bench along one of the walls. “I’ll have my driver, Paolo, take you and Michael to the hospital.”
“Okay. Thank you. What about Greg?”
Sal sat next to me. “I think you should take him with you. You need him, and he’ll want to be there for you.”
“You think so?”
He huffed a laugh. “I know so. He’s already making plans with Marco, and I heard him say he’ll arrange everything with Michael.”
That didn’t sound right. I should be making plans with my brothers. How long would it take us to get to the hospital? Was my father going to need surgery? A thousand questions swirled around in my brain. So many decisions to make, and I didn’t know where to start.
I didn’t know how much time had passed when Greg came and kneeled in front of me. “Michael’s going to meet us at your apartment. He said he has a key. I’ll grab my overnight bag, and we’ll pack one for you.”
I took his hands in mine. “You’re coming, right?”
“Of course I’m coming. You need me.”
That was it. I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. “Thank you.”
He wrapped his arms around my waist and held me while I tried to pull myself together. Sal got up from the bench, and I saw him pull out his phone. I assumed he was calling for his driver.
Once I’d settled down, Sal handed me a couple of tissues from his jacket pocket. “The car’s out front.”
“What about you?” I asked as I stood.
He waved away my concern. “Alessandro is here, and Francesco came with the driver. They’ll stay with me until I’m ready to go. I’m only a few blocks from home.”
I pulled Sal into a tight hug. “Thank you. I owe you one.”
“You owe me nothing. We’re family.”
Warmth filled me. I was so glad I had reestablished my relationship with my cousin. “Sorry about dinner.”
He shook his head. “No worries. We’ll get together once things settle with Uncle Santino.”
“You should come and visit,” I said.
Sal laughed and shook his head. “Maybe later this year. I don’t want to give him another heart attack.”
I gave him another hug, and then Greg and I headed for the front of the building. The Saturday evening traffic was heavy and slow-moving, which only served to increase my agitation. “We should have taken the subway,” I grumbled.
Greg took hold of my hand. “I know it sucks, but we’d have to deal with this traffic no matter what. It’ll be fine once we get out of the city. Why don’t you call Michael and see how he’s doing?”
I felt my lips twitch into an almost-smile. I was being managed. I was usually the one doing the managing. It was weird, but it also felt…nice. I took out my phone and hit Michael’s number. He picked up on the first ring.
“Tony, what’s taking so long?”
I looked out the window. “It’s Saturday night. The traffic is bad. We’re passing the Port Authority bus terminal. We shouldn’t be long now.”
“I got an overnight bag out for you. Do you want me to start packing it?”
Michael needed to keep busy. I knew this was how he handled emotional situations. “Sure. You can get it started. I’ll check it when I get there.”
“Have you talked to Mom yet?” he asked.
“Not yet. I was going to wait until we were on our way so I could give her a solid ETA.”
“Okay,” he replied quietly. After a long pause, he said, “I’m scared. Marco said it was bad.”
“I know. I am too. All we can do right now is get there as soon as possible.”
When we finally made it to my apartment building, I was ready to jump out of my skin. I knew we had more than an hour of travel left before we got to the hospital, but I just wanted to get started. “We’ll be down in ten minutes,” I told Paolo.
“Yes, Mr. D’Angelo.”
Greg and I raced through the lobby, barely acknowledging the security guard at the desk.
I was thankful the elevators in the building were fast because I wasn’t in good enough shape to run up twenty-six floors.
Michael was standing in the open doorway of my apartment, waiting for us.
I wrapped my arms around my brother and held him tightly.
Greg slipped by and closed the door behind us. “I’ll get our bags.”
Michael stepped back. “You should check yours to make sure I didn’t forget anything.”
I noted that his overnight bag and laptop case were already by the door.
“Would you mind packing up my laptop? It’s on my desk,” I asked Michael.
“Not at all. Where’s your case?”
I pointed toward the entryway. “In the closet by the door.”
Greg followed me to my bedroom, where he began packing up his things. My roller bag was on my bed, already full of clothes and a pair of sneakers. I went into my ensuite. Greg and I danced around each other, getting our toiletries.
When I started to zip my bag closed, I noticed my hands were shaking. I took a breath, trying to settle myself. Greg’s hand covered mine. “Let me help.”
He finished zipping the case and then pulled me into his arms. I clung to him like a drowning man. “I’m not ready to lose him.”
“I know,” he murmured. “And you haven’t lost him. He’s still here. Take it one moment at a time.”
I stayed in his embrace for a little longer, breathing him in, before pulling away. “We should get going. Michael’s waiting.”
The three of us were silent on the elevator ride down to the lobby. My brother was practically vibrating with tension. Thankfully, the car was right outside the building. Greg hesitated as we were getting in. “I can sit in the front seat if you’d rather sit in the back with Michael.”
Before I could object, my brother said, “I’d rather sit in front.”
That problem solved, we loaded our luggage into the trunk, and I gave Paolo the address for the hospital. As soon as we made it out of the Lincoln Tunnel, I pulled up the GPS on my phone to get an ETA, then I called my mother and put it on speaker.
“Anthony!” My mother’s voice was thick with tears and her accent was more pronounced. “Are you coming?”
“Yes, Ma. Michael and I are on our way. I was uptown, and it took me a while to get to my apartment.”
My mother sniffled. “They just took your father into surgery. They said he has a blocked artery. They have to do a coronary bypass.” The last word came out on a sob.
I heard Michael mutter, “Fuck.” I was desperately trying to hold it together. Greg took my hand and held it.
“Tony.” Marco’s voice came through on the phone. “What’s your ETA?”
“We just got out of the tunnel, so about an hour,” I replied.
“Ma said Michael is with you?”
“Yeah.” I paused for a beat. “So is Greg.”
“Good,” he replied.
The relief that swept through me at his casual acceptance surprised me with its strength. I squeezed Greg’s hand, feeling like he was the only thing anchoring me. “Who’s there right now?” I asked Marco.
He blew out a breath. “Marie and Vinny are here. Tino’s on his way.”
“What about Gianna?” I asked. Then I remembered. “Shit, she’s in Chicago.”
“She has to get a flight,” Marco said. “She’s freaking out, so she’s having a hard time focusing.” My sister was on the autism spectrum, and events like this were hard for her to handle.
“I’m on it,” Michael said from the front seat. He had his phone out and his thumbs were flying over the keyboard.
I tapped my brother on the shoulder. “Michael, if you can get her a ride to the airport in Chicago, I’ll have someone pick her up here. See if you can have her fly into Newark.”
“Got it,” he murmured.
I turned my attention back to my phone. “I guess that’s all we can do right now.”
Marco sighed. “Yeah. The doctors said the surgery could take as long as six hours. They won’t know until they get in and see what damage there is.”
“Jesus,” I breathed. “Okay. Keep me posted.”
I ended the call and then sent a text to Sal to keep him updated. I slipped my phone back in my jacket pocket with a sigh. Greg lifted his arm, and I leaned against him, glad I had someone to support me.