Chicago, July 2017
LIAM STOOD IN THE foyer of his Lincoln Park townhome and scratched his head. Three suitcases and a large briefcase with Catherine’s computer and working papers lay on the floor. “How are we supposed to get all this to the airport?” he said.
“I ordered a large car,” Catherine called from the second floor. “Do you know where my passport is? I can’t find it.”
“I have it. You asked me to hold it for you ten minutes ago. Did you also reserve a large car in Italy?”
“Of course.”
“And a muscular porter to carry all this stuff?”
“That would be you.”
The doorbell rang, and Liam made his way around the baggage to answer the door. Tony was standing on the stoop with a leather binder in his hand and a paper bag. He looked at the floor of the foyer and started laughing.
“This is all your fault, you know,” Liam said.
“You’re on a humanitarian mission. You should feel honored I gave you the opportunity,” he said between chuckles. “I have something for Catherine and something for you.”
“That’s what we need, more stuff to take on the trip.”
Tony held the binder out. “My aunt Gabi sent this to me and told me to ‘hand it directly to the woman lawyer.’”
Liam started to take the binder, but Tony pulled it away. “You ain’t the woman lawyer. I got clear instructions.”
“I believe that I am the woman lawyer,” Catherine said, coming down the stairs.
Tony greeted her with a kiss and a warm hug. “Aunt Gabi asked that I deliver this to you and only you. It’s a binder full of papers. I got it yesterday.”
“They’re not in Italian, are they?”
Tony shook his head. “Nah. It’s all in English. I think it’s like a book.”
Catherine opened the binder. There were easily two hundred pages. The title page just said My Meditation: A Work for Solo Violin.
“It looks like a manuscript. What’s this all about, Tony?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t read it and Aunt Gabi didn’t say.”
“Why does Aunt Gabi want me to read it?”
Again, he shook his head. “She didn’t say, but she spent good money on overnight delivery service to make sure I’d get it to you before you left.”
Catherine nodded. “What’s in the paper bag?”
Tony smiled broadly. “That’s for my buddy, Liam. Italian deli sandwiches. You can’t eat that airplane crap.”