Eyewitnesses
Wilmington, Delaware
Jimmy Borelli stopped by our house around dinner time the next day. People always seemed to stop by our house at dinner. I wondered if it was because of Angie’s reputation for great cooking, and of inviting everyone in to eat. Angie greeted him as if he were a long lost friend.
“Jimmy Borelli, what a surprise. Come in, please.” Angie opened the door and stepped aside. “We’re just getting ready to eat. You must be hungry.” Angie wiped her hands on her apron and steered him to a chair at the head of the table, opposite me.
“Mrs. Fusco, I—”
Angie shot him a look that said everything, one of those “don’t you dare call me Mrs. Fusco” looks. Nothing else was required. “Rosa, get Mr. Borelli a glass of wine, please.” She emphasized the mister, so Jimmy got t
