Page 63 of A Wife's Duty

He took the other bags from Frank.

“I’ll be right back.”

He started to unpack the groceries. Different cereals, bread that appeared to be sweating, some baked goods, along with several different pasta bags and sauces. Boone put everything away, glancing toward the pantry. He had a few items he had placed there in storage, as he had every intention of stepping away, retiring, building a life for himself. Only, other plans had gotten in the way.

Now, he picked up a couple of jars of Italian seasoning. Frank had also purchased multiple cans of tomatoes. With no other source of meat, it was going to have to be a tomato pasta. He made a note to go shopping in the morning, possibly with Lucia. For that night, he just got to cooking them a meal.

Frank made his way out into the garden. Once alone, Boone was able to check on Leandro who was still stuck in one of Boone’s apartments. The man looked ready to crack, but it had only been a day. There was no way Leandro would be able to get a signal or contact anyone for help, which was the way Boone had arranged it. A small device sent out a signal, blocking all cell phone signals, apart from the one outside the radius he’d set up for the security feed.

Ronald was working on restoring the café, and by the end of next week, it would be as good as new. Tomorrow, Nancy would be discharged from the hospital. Boone had already taken care of the hospital bills. The men were dead, and he had other men in place to keep an eye on their café.

In the meantime, Valdez and Bonaldi, along with multiple capos under his command, would be distracted, as up and down the country, he had initiated the cops to do some hunting. It was lovely what a nice tip and video evidence could do, that would force a warrant, and then, boom, everything went to shit for them. They had gotten away with too much in the past, and now it was time for them to feel the pain.

Slicing up some onion and bell pepper, he got that in the pan with a little butter. This is what Frank had picked up, rather than olive oil. He already had a pan of water coming to boil. With the onions and pepper sweating down, he added some salt, pepper, along with a good pinch of Italian seasoning. Next, he crushed and chopped up the garlic, adding that to the pot.

Frank had forgotten the olive oil, but he’d purchased a bottle of white wine. Boone did not know how that man’s head worked, but it didn’t matter. He opened the wine and added a good couple of glugs to the pan. Giving it a stir, he next added the tomatoes, some chicken stock, and turned the heat down to a simmer the moment it had started to boil.

The pasta was thrown into the boiling water, along with a good pinch of salt. His father had always said that to have good pasta, you needed to heavily salt the water. This is what he did, still, to this day.

“Um, something smells good,” Lucia said.

“Just a little supper.”

She giggled. “We’re having vegetarian tonight? Frank already told me his car stinks of dead meat, and he wants to keep all the doors open and spray it with some kind of disinfectant.”

“Yeah, you need to blame Betty for the vegetarian meal.”

“As it happens, I love vegetarian, so I don’t mind at all.”

Boone smiled.

“So, uh, thank you,” Lucia said.

“What for?”

“For the dog.”

He stopped stirring the pasta and turned toward her. “You don’t need to thank me for the dog. If I had seen them hurting her, I would have stopped anyway.”

“I know, but I have no idea what I’m doing and you got me a dog anyway.”

“A dog is kind of like a baby. Only, babies grow up, leave home, and think they’re better at all the shit than their parents, until they get to an age and realize they’re doing exactly the same, or shittier than their parents.”

Lucia looked at him. “Is that what you thought of your dad?”

He opened and closed his mouth.

“Right, I’m sorry.”

“My dad was dead before I got chance to do that,” Boone said.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t need to be. You didn’t pull the trigger that killed him. Life is what killed him, and getting complacent.” Boone turned back to his sauce. He hadn’t added too much chicken stock for it to be too watery.

Looking through the stuff, he pulled out a very soggy-looking parmesan cheese. He and Lucia were definitely going shopping tomorrow. No wonder Amy was always threatening to kill her husband. The man didn’t seem to focus.

Boone looked outside the kitchen window, and sure enough, he was on his back, sunbathing.

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