NICKY WAS SO preoccupied when he stepped out of the Half Price Books across the street from Geoffrey Coldicott’s apartment that he almost didn’t recognize his cousin. The fact that Father Joseph LaCazio was wearing street clothes didn’t help.
They saw each other and, as was their custom, threw their hands into the air with surprise, then embraced. ‘So what brings you out here?’ Nicky asked. ‘Buying half-price Bibles?’
Joseph ignored the shot, pointed at the window of the bookstore, at the boxes on the floor by the entrance. The boxes held signs that said FREE BOOKS! ‘Whenever I’m at Golden Gate, I stop here and grab a few boxes of the free books,’ he said. ‘We put them on the shelves at the church’s thrift store.’
Nicky smiled. ‘You are one scheming priest.’
‘Hey,’ Joseph said. ‘Every little bit, eh?’
Joseph looked tired, overworked, overwrought by the scandal in his parish. He studied Nicky for a few silent moments, then said: ‘You want to know who Johnny Angelino was?’
‘Yeah,’ Nicky said. ‘I do.’
‘One time, in Chicago, Johnny and I went out to dinner at the Szechuan House on Michigan Avenue. Now, keep in mind, we’re in divinity school at this time, okay? But we have about four or five Tsing Tao beers anyway. And we’re feeling it. Meanwhile, there’s a table next to us with two of the most beautiful women we’d ever seen – twenty-eight or so, one redhead, one blonde. They’re making eyes, we’re making eyes. We’re kind of loaded, they’re kind of loaded.’
‘I get the picture, cuz,’ Nicky said, hoping his cousin wasn’t leading up to some kind of a sex story. Although they had swapped Playboy and Hustler when they were younger, Joseph LaCazio wasn’t a priest then. Now it was, well, different.
‘Anyway, our food finally comes, and instead of plates we have these sort of curved, elongated bowls. The bad news is that Johnny, in an effort to impress these girls, decides he’s going to use chopsticks, no matter what. Halfway through the Kung Pao chicken he catches an edge on the bowl and launches it ten, twelve feet. It hits the floor like a shotgun blast and splatter’s the redhead’s legs with sauce. Well, Johnny’s up like a shot, helping clean up, apologizing to the young woman. Within five minutes, he has her laughing. Within ten, he has her phone number. Johnny could dump garbage on a woman, then get her number. The women always went for Johnny.’
‘He was a pretty cool guy,’ Nicky said.
‘He could charm a fucking whore.’
The word, coming out of Joseph’s mouth, was a shock to Nicky. He hadn’t heard his cousin use anything more caustic than the occasional ‘shit’ or the Bible-approved ‘damn’ over the past ten or fifteen years.
But fuck? Father Joseph?
‘Anyway,’ Joseph finally said. ‘Gotta run. Keep me posted on your story. Call me if I can help.’
‘Thanks, cuz,’ Nicky said, as they embraced again.
‘Gil come by for the canned goods yet?’
‘Not yet,’ Nicky said.
‘He will. He’s making the rounds.’
‘Cool.’
Thanks.’ Nicky watched his cousin enter the store, talk to the young lady behind the counter. From behind, in those clothes – stylish blazer and slacks – you’d never know he was a priest.