Chapter 42
She was right on one count. Although he was weary right down to his bones, with burning eyes and muscles that felt like they had doubled in weight during his shift, he realized the last thing he wanted to do was go home.
But where could he go? He was eighteen years old. He turned to Carmela. “Sorry. It was just a long night.”
“But you got to work in the kitchen. That’s good, huh?”
“Yeah, it was.” And Henry surprised himself by smiling. In spite of the silent treatment from Vito and, later, the chewing out, it had been fun. His hands and mind had worked in perfect synchronicity, and he could stand here now and bask in the feeling of not only a job well done, but also the fact that he had fed people that night. He had helped make them happy by putting food in their bellies.
“Well, there you go. You wanna come with Antonio and me?”
“You really want me to?”