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seem appropriate.
    “Hey, ease up. I didn’t come back here to cause no trouble for your mom. I got a couple things to do and after that, I’m outta here. I got no time to be hanging around this place when there’s a cute little babe waiting for me in the city. I’m getting married, ya know.”
    I clenched my teeth. Who in their right mind . . . but then I flashed on the Menendez brothers — Erik got married while he was serving his life sentence to a woman who, by California law, can’t even have sex with him. “Congratulations!” I said and shook his hand.
    “Yeah, ain’t that something? But don’t tell nobody. There’s a few people around here that don’t want to see your cousin happy. One in particular who wanted to see me burn, but hey, I’m a free man. I ain’t carryin’ no grudge. Grudges don’t do nothin’ but give you a bad stomach.”
    A few measures of Turno Sorrento drifted our way, then a thud and a door slammed. The cuckoo announced it was half-past something as our attention immediately focused on the stairway. “Mom? We’re up here.” I called out, but no one answered and Dickey’s whole demeanor changed. I didn’t like what I saw. He looked mean.
    Angry.
    Intense.
    Was it our conversation on grudges? Or did he hate cuckoo birds as much as I did?
    I coughed. “I have something for you,” I said hoping to squash his sudden nasty disposition. “My mom kept this for you.”
    I pulled the ring out of my pocket and handed it to him. He stared at it for a moment and his demeanor changed back to the charming man.
    “Your mom’s a good woman.” He slipped the ring on his pinky finger on his left hand. It seemed too tight and he had to work at getting it over his large knuckle. I figured arthritis must have changed his fingers since he wore it last. He held up his hand to admire the ring. “Mark my words, baby doll, this ring is gonna give somebody real heartburn.”
    I couldn’t imagine why, unless he was talking about some jealousy thing that continually ran through the family. There were a lot of bright diamonds on the horseshoe. One thing this family never could get over was one-upmanship.
    “Maybe we should join everyone in the yard,” I said not wanting to be alone with him any longer. I was feeling way too weird.
    “Good idea,” he said as he stepped in front of me and headed down the stairs. “And I want to apologize for callin’ you flat face when you was a kid. I thought it was funny back then, but you was a pretty little thing, and you’re a beautiful woman now.”
    “Thanks,” I said, thinking maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all. Maybe he hadn’t killed his mistress, Carla DeCarlo, and he was actually on the road to recovery like the rest of my family. I needed more empathy for my relatives.
    More compassion.
    More therapy.
    “You know,” he said. “I woulda thought you’d hate me. I know everybody else around here does.”
    I followed behind him, thinking my act had worked. It wasn’t that I hated him exactly; I didn’t know him well enough to feel that emotion. I’d heard plenty about him, so scared silly was more to the point.
    As we descended the stairs I noticed his perfectly manicured long nails. He’d been out of the slammer for less than forty-eight hours and he’d already had time for a manicure.
    I was jealous.
    The steps creaked under his feet. For a little guy, he carried a lot of weight, muscle weight, I supposed. “Hate’s a strong word.”
    “Not necessarily. I think it makes things easier.”
    “You mean when someone holds a grudge?”
    “I already told ya. I don’t hold no grudges,” he said as he stepped on the landing then headed for the front door, grabbed the glass knob and swung the white door open as far as it would go. Maryann’s music slowly faded. Conversation stopped. All I could hear was Bisnonno’s clock ticking.
    Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
    Before he stepped out on the porch, he turned back to me, leaned in closer,