The Name of Honor
Page 32
“Like Tommy.”
Angie kissed her head. “Yeah. But not like you.”
Giada buried herself more fully into her husband’s embrace and felt uniquely blessed. She had achieved her ambition and made her way to the best of all worlds. She was Donna Sacco, the first of her kind, running a major family and making it stronger, building its power. She was Giada Sacco, CEO of a major development firm, building up Boston for the future. All her life, her ambition had been focused there: on claiming this power, building her family. Making her name.
But she also, miraculously, had this: sitting with her husband while their car rolled through the dark, wrapped in his warm, strong arms, feeling small and protected and loved. He loved her for her strength, and let her be vulnerable despite it.
Love was a fairy tale she’d stopped telling herself long ago.
But here she was, curled up with her prince, surrounded by his love.
Whatever the future might hold, she had everything right now.
She’d already claimed her happy ending.
~ Epilogue ~
It took them until September, but they finally found their house. Angie half suspected his wife had willed the place into existence.
And now he couldn’t believe he actually lived here.
The info sheet had called it an ‘estate,’ and Angie had rolled his eyes and called it puffery, but then they’d pulled up, through an iron gate, and the house wasn’t in view yet. They’d known they’d buy it before they’d gone through the front door.
They lived on an ‘estate,’ with ‘grounds,’ in Jamaica Plain. And still they’d paid cash for the place, because Giada’s apartment had gone for a big bag of money.
Also because this big old gorgeous house needed a little bit of work. Contractors were spending more time in it than they were, currently. But when the improvements were done, Angie and Giada would have a home that was entirely theirs.
And Angie had a wicked huge yard, with a beautiful pool. And a putting green! He came out every night and listened to the quiet.
They were celebrating the completion of the remodeled kitchen with a housewarming party, but only for family and close friends. For Giada, that was Bruno and his family, and Fallon and her girls. Angie had invited his siblings and their families, and Nick and his family, and Donnie and Ari. Twenty-two people. Angie hadn’t realized he was close to so many people until they’d all shown up at his house.
September had been warm as midsummer, past eighty degrees on the last Saturday of the month, and they’d kept the pool open. It was almost as good as a day at the beach today.
While his nephew Marco lined up a putt, Angie looked over his head at the people playing in his yard. The place was beautifully landscaped; the old broad who’d raised a family and sent them off to their own lives, lost her husband, and then lived here alone to her end, had been a hobbyist, and elaborate gardens meandered through the ‘grounds.’ But what he really saw was Joey and Matt checking out his big new grill—he meant to have one of those outdoor kitchens built eventually. He saw Tina and Leslie in the pool with the youngest kids, and Giada, Fallon, and Deandra poolside, drinking Negronis on ice. Bruno was off the green teaching his son, Bruce, a putting stance. Nick and Bev were walking through the garden. Donnie and Ari sat on the big swing, chatting intimately. The other kids were playing, or being disaffected teens, but it didn’t matter what anybody was doing.
They were all comfortable.
It was the first time he’d seen it. Maybe the first time in a very long time, since he was just a little kid, that he’d ever felt it. This was his family, it was big and thriving, and he belonged among them all.
He heard the distinctive echo of a golf ball sinking a cup, and he turned to see his nephew pumping his arm in celebration.
“My man Marco!” Angie laughed and offered his fist for a bump. “Well done!”
His face split wide in a goofy grin, Marco bumped fists, then turned to the younger boy. “Hey Bruce. You’re up!”
Bruno brought his eight-year-old son up, and the men stood back as Marco, suddenly an expert, advised the younger boy.
“This is a great place, Ange.” Bruno said, looking around. “Really beautiful.”
“Thanks. Yeah, it is.”
One year ago, Angie’s life had been comparatively simple. Nothing but the Pagano Brothers. Anything else had been incidental and superficial, beneath his notice. He’d told himself he had everything he’d ever wanted, and he was content.
Then he’d found love, and lost everything else.
From those ashes had risen a life that dwarfed what he’d had before. Family. Friendship. Love. Loyalty and honor. Success. Respect. Home. Truly everything.
He’d been content before. Now he was happy.
In their world, when you found that, you grabbed it and held on as long as you could.
Angie meant never to let go.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Susan Fanetti is a Midwestern native transplanted to Northern California, where she lives with her husband, youngest son, and assorted cats.
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