Remember the time you told my father I was seeing the young Ferguson lad from over the road? Remember how angry he was? Revenge, my dear, is sweet!”...Maureen laughed loudly and stood up to hug Mel. “Fear not dear cousin, I call this little place Las Vegas, what happens here, stays here!”Mel relented and hugged her back, “It had better! What are you doing here anyways?”“I came to invite you two for brunch. We’re serving up in about 15 minutes so you two had better get a move on and get cleaned. Mom called him Tony. He was a dark haired, virile, handsome man. I disliked him somewhat; he had a deep and relatively loud voice, very different from the softer voices of all the aunts around me, different from the breathy Italian quality of Uncle Johnny and Josephine Louise. By the end of that summer Tony started hanging around our apartment more often, as if we were already an official part of his own, very large Italian clan. He came over many mornings before opening the supermarket in our. More

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