TRADE

Stefan
After she ate, I led the way to the large garage. It was built in the same style of the house and had enough space for three cars, but two of those were loaded with old equipment for the vineyard we no longer used. In the third stood the truck I’d been working on, a 1970s Chevy.
“That’s very old. Does it still run?” she asked when we neared.
“I hope so. I spent last night and two hours this morning working on the thing.” I’d been up since half past five.
“You didn’t get much sleep.”
I shrugged a shoulder.
She touched the rust and peeled off a layer of old paint, then opened the door and climbed in as I settled behind the driver’s seat.
“Is it safe?”
“I wouldn’t drive you around in it if it wasn’t.”
She stole a glance when I said it, then fastened her seat belt. The engine hiccupped then roared to life, and we drove off.
“I hope you don’t mind the wind.” I had both windows rolled all the way down. “Couldn’t quite get the AC working.”
“No. I like it. How big is the property?”
“About two-hundred acres. A hundred of that is vineyard.”
“That is no longer in use. What a waste.”
“It is a waste.”
“Maybe you could start again, replant… rebuild your mother’s memory.”
My throat felt tight, and it was hard to swallow. “These fields here are rented by neighbors,” I said, ignoring what she’d just said.
“Are those cows?”
“Yes. Half a dozen or so. They don’t have the space, and we do, so it’s an easy trade.”
“And it’s nice to see the animals. Any horses?”
“Do you ride?”
She shook her head. “Just a handful of lessons, but I like it.”
I nodded.
“What’s that?” She pointed in the distance to a stone building.
“Chapel. It’s been there as long as the house.” We pulled up to the building, which was missing part of its roof. I shut off the engine, and we climbed out.
“This is amazing.”
Veronica stepped up the two stairs and pushed the heavy wooden door open. I remained at the back, watching her take in every detail, touch every surface as she made her way toward the altar. There were only six pews, three on each side. It was very small. The roof had caved in at one corner, but the altar and most of the building was still protected against rain or snow. An overgrowth of green crept along the outside and some of the inside walls.
“The altar is intact.”
She bowed her head and made the sign of the cross, then climbed the three stairs to touch the stubs of candles and wax stuck to the stone altar, the crucifix that still hung there.
“This place has an energy to it,” she said more quietly, not quite looking at me. “Do you know when it was last used?”
“When my mother was alive.”
“Oh.”
She walked around to where a confessional stood, the wood rotting.
“It’s almost as though incense clings to the space like it was burned yesterday.”
She peeled what was left of the old, dusty curtain back to look into the confessional, then turned to me.
“Do you feel it, that energy?”
I had my hands in my pockets and shook my head. There was a time I had. But that was past. “Not anymore.” She looked at me like she felt sorry for me. “We should go.”
“If you let the past go, maybe it will let you go.”
Her words startled me, momentarily rendering me mute. Her gaze held me, and for an instant, I felt envious of the hope that flashed inside those innocent eyes.
But then reality reminded me why she was here. “Who says I want to let it go?”
Veronica looked physically deflated. I gestured to the door. “Let’s go.”
“Will you repair it? The chapel?”
“No.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Are you asking my permission now?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “I guess I am.”
“I can’t promise I’ll answer, but you’re free to ask.”
“What kind of things do you think my grandfather is involved in? On the plane, you said ‘for one thing.’ That means there’s more.”
“Does that mean you believe me?”
“You have to understand how hard it is to grasp. He took Robyn and me in, he paid-”
“He’s living off your inheritances. You’re paying for it all.”
She bowed her head, shaking it once. I dropped it. It would take her time to accept this. I could give her that. Hell, time was all we had.
“Don’t ask questions you don’t really want to know the answers to. Believe it or not, it’s not you I want to hurt.”
“I’m collateral damage. I know.”
“Let’s go.”
This time, she came without resistance. We drove in silence until I pulled through the gates of a neighboring farm. “Come on” I said, switching off the engine and watching about six children huddled in old man Lambertini’s shed. His dog had recently had pups.
“Where are we?”
“This is the Lambertini farm. They’re the ones who rent the land for their cows. I have some business with Lambertini. You’ll have to wait for me.”
Lambertini stood, wiping his hands on a towel, his pipe hanging from his mouth, the smile wide on his weather-worn skin as he came toward us and held out his hand to shake mine.
“Stefan.”
He pulled me to him, hugging me with a pat on the back.
“Good to see you home,” he said in Italian.
“It’s good to be home, Mr. Lambertini.”
He turned to Veronica and held out his hand.
“This is Veronica, my fiancee.”
Veronica smiled and said hello when he took both of her hands in one of his.
“Are those puppies?” she asked.
“Why don’t you go see them while I have my meeting,” I told her.
She nodded and went. I followed Lambertini inside, where we discussed the business of the farms before his face grew serious. He told me there had been men there a few weeks back. I guessed it was Moriarty’s men, looking for me now that I was back. He didn’t know who they were, but from the look on his face, they weren’t overly friendly, which only confirmed my suspicion.
“I’ll take care of it,” was all I said. My father had enemies, which meant I had enemies. If he owed money, and I was pretty sure he did, they’d come after me to pay his debts.
We walked back outside, and I found Veronica trying her Italian with the kids, one of the pups in her lap.
“Take it,” the old man said, gesturing, smiling.
She glanced at me.
“He’s telling you you can have one.”
“What?”
She looked from him to the pup to me. She didn’t want to ask permission from me. I could see the pride in her eyes.
“I had a puppy once,” she said instead, petting the little thing.
I didn’t say anything. She turned her big caramel eyes to mine.
“Can I?” She bit her lip.
I nodded. I could do this one thing for her. Hell, it wasn’t much.
“Really?”
Her eyes sparkled, and she gave me the biggest smile I’d seen yet.
“Are you sure?” she asked Lambertini.
He nodded.
“Thank you so much. Thank you!”
“We have to go,” I said, heading to the truck.
She stopped me, coming right up to me. “Thank you.”
Flustered, I looked at her for a minute, then nodded, feeling uncomfortable. Awkward, even. It was just a dog. No big deal.
“Just keep the thing under control,” I said, stepping around her to open the passenger door.
“I will.”
She climbed in, her attention fully on the puppy. She waved good-bye as we drove out.
“Robyn and I had a brand-new puppy when our parents died. They’d just given him to us three weeks before they’d left. Grandfather wouldn’t let us bring him with us to the new house. It broke Robyn’s heart to say good-bye. Mine too.”
I kept my eyes on the road. We all had fucking sob stories.
“Yeah, well, what can I say? Your grandfather’s a jerk.”
She reached out to touch my shoulder, startling me. I looked at her.
“Thank you, really.”
“Don’t be so grateful yet. Nothing comes for nothing. I’ll think of some way for you to repay me later.”