Chapter 16
The kid just can’t leave things alone. I try to be kind, and he won’t leave me be, let me keep my hurt to myself. Vito sat on the porch, sipping his third cup of coffee, knowing he shouldn’t have it. It would make him sweat and feel jittery, but he simply couldn’t go in that kitchen and face Henry, brook the question in his eyes.
Inside, he could hear Henry cleaning up the breakfast dishes, the rush of water and the clatter of cutlery, crockery, and skillet as he placed them on the counter to dry. Henry had brought Vito’s Bluetooth speaker out from the bedroom and had synched it with his own phone, so now the music issuing forth from it wasn’t opera but something contemporary that grated on Vito’s nerves. Some woman who was popular—Lady Gaga or Pink or Rihanna—who knew? Vito h
