Chapter 5
Angie let her head fall back against the car’s headrest and let out a quiet exhalation as Gina drove away from her apartment and Beatrice. She patted Gina’s arm. “I’m sorry you had to deal with her after the rough day you had. How you doing?”
“She doesn’t bother me. I’m bummed about the food at the funeral, but … I’ll get over it. Why don’t you come stay with me until Aunt Beatrice, the Wicked Witch of the West, is gone?” Gina asked.
“Are you sure I won’t be putting you out? I hate to be a bother.”
“My roommate, Thad, stays at his girlfriend’s most of the time. You can use my room and I’ll bunk in his—he’s a super mellow guy.”
“It will only be one night, then I can go back to my place. That’s very generous of you.”
“Happy to have your company. Besides, I’ll need your help creating some menu options that won’t poison people.” They both laughed, though with a bit of a grimace.
Gina found a place across the street from her apartment on Dayton, parallel parked, and she and Angie walked toward Gina’s place.
They climbed up to Gina’s apartment on the second floor. Angie lagged. “I’m so exhausted, I could sleep standing up.”
“I’m sure you are, Aunt Angie. I’ll put some fresh sheets on the bed, and then you can sleep until you wake up.”
Angie felt her eyes closing already. “What would I do without you, honey? Let’s talk more in the morning.” She gave Gina a hug, and the last thing she remembered was falling into Gina’s bed.
The next morning, Angie awoke to the sound of a car alarm going off and sat up in bed.
“Where am I?” She opened her eyes and remembered she had stayed at Gina’s.
And that Vinnie was dead. She lay back down, pulling the covers over her head as her mind raced: Where is all our money?
What was Beatrice doing in front of our apartment?
What was this key thing she was spouting off about?
And who the hell was having sex with Ralph at the funeral?
She made her way to the bathroom and then out to the small kitchen, where she found a note from Gina. Good morning, Aunt Angie. There’s freshly brewed coffee and some eggs in the fridge. Take your time getting up—and relax. The Trib is on the table in the living room. I’ll be home around three.
Angie looked at the clock on the wall, a black cat with a tail that moved back and forth as the clock ticked; she remembered Vinnie giving Gina that old clock, which had been his mother’s.
“Oh my, it’s almost noon,” she said, and then poured herself a cup of coffee and opened the fridge for some cream.
Locating the sugar bowl, she put four heavy teaspoons in her coffee.
She noticed the kitchen garbage was overflowing, so she got a paper bag from the side of the fridge and moved some of the garbage into it.
As she off-loaded the garbage, she noticed Costco wrappers from the food Gina had provided at the funeral.
Looking closer, Angie noticed that the expiration date was three months earlier.
I guess beggars can’t be choosers, though Gina did offer to pay.
Angie took her coffee into the living room and picked up the paper and skimmed the headlines and then turned to the obituary section, something she and Vinnie did every morning. She froze when she saw a photo of Vinnie. She placed her coffee down before she spilled it.
I never sent an obituary—it was too expensive—but someone did. Look at my handsome Vinnie; he was only fifty years old, too young. She started to cry and took a tissue to pat her eyes so she could read.
Vincent Carlo Sortino was born in Little Italy, Chicago, in 1968, the only son of Italian immigrant parents, Carla and Anthony Sortino, from Sicily, both deceased.
He is survived by his loving wife, Angie Sortino; sister, Connie Paloni; and his beloved niece, Gina Paloni.
Vinnie, as he was known to his family and close friends, graduated from St. Phillip’s High School and attended Richard J.
Daley Community College. He worked for the City of Chicago Department of Buildings for over twenty years, working his way up from construction worker to director of operations.
He was a die-hard Cubs fan and enjoyed trips to Las Vegas.
Angie reread the obit. Whoever put the obit in the paper certainly knew Vinnie; maybe it was Ralph.
She refilled her coffee, then went into Gina’s room, where she retrieved her phone and sat on the side of the bed.
When she turned it on, bells went off announcing lots of texts and voicemails.
I’m not ready to respond to anyone right now.
She took a long, hot shower, put on Gina’s robe, and returned to the kitchen.
After another cup of coffee, she stared out the kitchen window into the alley and summoned up the courage to go back into the bedroom and look at the texts and check her voicemails.
There were several texts from Gina, Connie, and even Louie.
There were five voicemails: a long one from Louie, three from Beatrice, and one from an unknown number.
Angie put the phone down, sat on the edge of the bed, and started to sob uncontrollably.
She knew she couldn’t let loose like she wanted to at the funeral and certainly not at Murphy’s, but now it was safe.
Grabbing a handful of tissues, she blew her nose and buried her head in her hands.
“Vinnie, how will I live without you?” Her shoulders shook up and down, and she was having trouble catching her breath.
She finally took a deep breath and sighed.
One foot in front of the other, she told herself. Make a list—that always helps. She took a pen and piece of paper off Gina’s bedside table and began to write.
1.Get dressed.
2.Eat something safe.
3.Make the bed.
4.Listen to the messages and read the texts—write everything down.
5.Call the Tribune and find out who wrote and paid for the obit.
6.Call the bank and check the account—again—where is all our money?
7.Make some kind of plan. Can I afford the rent? How am I going to make money?
8.Find the key to the storage unit and find out what was in there—Beatrice?
9.If I must borrow money, who can I borrow it from and how much will I need?
10.OR—just pack a bag at home and leave town? Maybe get on a bus to anywhere?
She put the pen down and placed her hand over her heart. I can only handle a list of ten things right now.
Angie put on one of Gina’s Juicy Couture sweatsuits, with the brand name written across the pants in the back.
They were a little too long, as Gina was five foot seven, but she just rolled up the pants and pushed up the sleeves.
She went to her list and checked off Get dressed.
Angie took her list with her as she went to the kitchen, looked in the fridge, grabbed a few eggs, and scrambled them up and washed the pan.
She ate half of the eggs, stored the rest in a container for the fridge, and then went into the bedroom and made the bed. Check and Check.
Sitting on the living room couch, she took out a pen and small pad of paper from her purse and was ready to write down who called and the message. Angie pressed the voicemail button; the first one was from Louie.
“Hello, Angie, it’s Louie from Rago Brothers …
I sure hope you got a good night’s rest. I just wanted you to know someone who wishes to remain anonymous has paid all the funeral parlor bills.
So, don’t worry about anything. Please call me so we can discuss when you’d like to pick up Vinnie’s cremains.
We have a special urn your benefactor chose. ”
Angie let the shock of his message sink in. “Oh my. This is a miracle.” She started to cry again and then hit Louie’s number.
“Rago Brothers, this is Louie. How may I help you?”
“Hi, Louie, it’s Angie—I just picked up your message. I am surprised and relieved, but I must ask you who paid for all of this. Whoever it is, I can’t pay them back for a long time.”
“The benefactor demanded their name not be used. They said that I could tell you that they were a good friend of Vinnie’s and knew he would want these expenses taken care of, so it’s one less thing you need to worry about.
I must say I was as surprised as you are now.
Can’t say I’ve ever had this happen before, but then I’ve never had a funeral like Vinnie’s before. ”
Angie took a deep breath. “I am so shocked and, of course, very grateful for their generosity. If you could let them know, I would appreciate it.”
“Will do. I wonder if you would like his World Series ring to remain with him or reserve it for you?”
Angie sighed. “He never took it off, wore it every day after he got it. One of the happiest days of his life when they won the World Series. I think I’ll find a perfect spot for it. Thanks for checking, Louie. You’ve been more than kind. When will his remains be ready?”
“Likely next Tuesday. How about I call you as soon as I know for sure.”
“That would be great. Also, while I’m thinking about it, I sure hope you’ll give my niece, Gina, another chance for her catering company in case any customers ask.
I’ll be helping her out going forward, and if you saw Vinnie’s belly, you can tell I am quite a good cook, if I do say so myself.
” She couldn’t help but smile. “Vinnie loved everything I made him, especially my homemade pasta and gravy. Secondly, would you be sure to pull out that black hair that was growing out of his chin mole at the funeral? I know that sounds funny, but I’d really appreciate it. ”
“No problem with that. And you just never know when we might need another caterer, Angie. You take care now and we’ll be in touch.”
“One more thing. I saw Vinnie’s obit in the Trib today. I didn’t put anything in—too expensive. Any idea who did?”
“I have no idea. The family always takes care of that. I can do some digging around if you’d like. I know the folks at the paper; I’ll see if they can pull the order,” Louie offered.
“You are a full-service funeral director, Louie. I’d appreciate it.”
After Angie hung up with Louie, she heard the front door open and Gina calling out, “Hey, Aunt Angie, how are you doing?”
Angie came out of the bedroom and Gina gave her a big hug, then said, “Kinda nice to have someone to come home to, with Thad being gone so much.”
Angie leaned in and held her niece tight. “This is just what the doctor ordered, honey. Why don’t you change your work clothes and let me make you something to eat.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice; I love your cooking. I’ll take a quick shower. There should be plenty of fixings in the pantry.” Gina left their comfy hug and headed for the bathroom.
“I’ll pour us a glass of wine and let’s see if we can figure out how to help you get your catering company launched,” Angie said as she made her way to the kitchen.
“That would be wonderful, Aunt Angie. I’ll take all the help I can get. Hey, did you call my mom back? She’s dying to tell you who stopped in at Murphy’s after you left. You’re not going to believe it!”