Priore—accompanied by his five-year-old daughter Amity—made his first nonworking visit to the home of Rob and Nancy Kissel. He didn’t notice Rocco Gatta sitting in the Taurus in the driveway of the house next door.
Amity was introduced to Isabel, Zoe, and Ethan and they all went off to watch television. The picture on the new Panasonic was bright and sharp. Nancy fed them corn dogs on sticks, potato chips, and ice cream. Amity was delighted. Usually her father made her eat a salad with her dinner.
Nancy found talking to Michael—from the start, she always called him Michael, never Mike—very different from talking to Rob. For one thing, she could control the conversation. With Rob, conversation, like everything else, had turned into a contest that could have only one winner. Michael didn’t seem like much of a talker, but she liked the sound of his voice. She also liked the trace of southern accent he’d brought back with him from his seven years in Alabama and Arkansas. But what she liked most was the look in his eyes that said he knew he was more than just a poor man in a rich woman’s house.
They went into the recreation room with the kids to play darts. Michael stood behind Nancy as she aimed at the board. He put his hands on her shoulders. She didn’t ask him to remove them.
Michael and Amity left at 10:30 p.m. The rain had slowed to a drizzle. Rocco Gatta had already gone back to his motel. Nancy walked out to the driveway with Michael.
“Do you know what I did?” she said. “I did the craziest thing. I’ve always wanted a tattoo. My uptight husband, of course, has strictly forbidden me to get one. He thinks I’d look like a biker chick instead of the perfect little banker’s wife. I told him I wanted one for my birthday in April. Instead, he gave me a Mercedes. But I decided this week, fuck him. My FedEx man has a tattoo so I asked him where he’d got it. He told me from Blackbear Tattoo in West Brattleboro. I made an appointment for two o’clock next Friday. Only now—and I know this sounds silly—now I’m a little nervous about it.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know. It’s just—I’ve never even been near a tattoo parlor, and…I mean, I know it’s not like a drug den, I know there’s not going to be a bunch of Hells Angels waiting around to grab me and drag me into the back, but—would you come with me?”
“To get a tattoo?”
“To get my tattoo.” She had a cocky little look in her eye. “Unless you think we should have matching tattoos.”
“Yeah, I could go with you.”
For a moment he thought she was going to stand on tiptoe and kiss him on the cheek. Instead, she tossed him another radiant smile, accompanied by a wave good-bye. “See you Friday,” she said. “Be here by noon.”
“Yes ma’am.”
They both laughed.
“She’s pretty nice,” Amity said as they drove away. “Do you like her, Daddy?”
“Yeah,” Michael replied slowly. “I think I do.”
14.
Rob
FOR THE NEXT THREE DAYS, ROCCO GATTA FOLLOWED Nancy everywhere she went: to the Crossgates Mall in Albany; to the Stratton Mountain School, where she dropped off and picked up Isabel and Zoe; and to Manchester, Vermont, forty minutes away, where she shopped at a store called the Jelly Mill.
The Jelly Mill advertised “gifts for every interest in a festive atmosphere highlighted by a 1914 nickelodeon…fine collectibles, toiletries, essential oils, candles in every shape and color, bubbling garden fountains, cards, and some of the most appealing sculptural pieces you’ll ever see.” It was somewhat downscale by Nancy’s standards, but after all, she was in Vermont, not Hong Kong.
Gatta captured her on video as she entered the store, but he did not follow her inside. With his dark glasses and a face that looked as if it had been carved, none too skillfully, out of granite, Rocco Gatta was not the sort of guy who would have blended easily into the background at the Jelly Mill. He just
Amity was introduced to Isabel, Zoe, and Ethan and they all went off to watch television. The picture on the new Panasonic was bright and sharp. Nancy fed them corn dogs on sticks, potato chips, and ice cream. Amity was delighted. Usually her father made her eat a salad with her dinner.
Nancy found talking to Michael—from the start, she always called him Michael, never Mike—very different from talking to Rob. For one thing, she could control the conversation. With Rob, conversation, like everything else, had turned into a contest that could have only one winner. Michael didn’t seem like much of a talker, but she liked the sound of his voice. She also liked the trace of southern accent he’d brought back with him from his seven years in Alabama and Arkansas. But what she liked most was the look in his eyes that said he knew he was more than just a poor man in a rich woman’s house.
They went into the recreation room with the kids to play darts. Michael stood behind Nancy as she aimed at the board. He put his hands on her shoulders. She didn’t ask him to remove them.
Michael and Amity left at 10:30 p.m. The rain had slowed to a drizzle. Rocco Gatta had already gone back to his motel. Nancy walked out to the driveway with Michael.
“Do you know what I did?” she said. “I did the craziest thing. I’ve always wanted a tattoo. My uptight husband, of course, has strictly forbidden me to get one. He thinks I’d look like a biker chick instead of the perfect little banker’s wife. I told him I wanted one for my birthday in April. Instead, he gave me a Mercedes. But I decided this week, fuck him. My FedEx man has a tattoo so I asked him where he’d got it. He told me from Blackbear Tattoo in West Brattleboro. I made an appointment for two o’clock next Friday. Only now—and I know this sounds silly—now I’m a little nervous about it.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know. It’s just—I’ve never even been near a tattoo parlor, and…I mean, I know it’s not like a drug den, I know there’s not going to be a bunch of Hells Angels waiting around to grab me and drag me into the back, but—would you come with me?”
“To get a tattoo?”
“To get my tattoo.” She had a cocky little look in her eye. “Unless you think we should have matching tattoos.”
“Yeah, I could go with you.”
For a moment he thought she was going to stand on tiptoe and kiss him on the cheek. Instead, she tossed him another radiant smile, accompanied by a wave good-bye. “See you Friday,” she said. “Be here by noon.”
“Yes ma’am.”
They both laughed.
“She’s pretty nice,” Amity said as they drove away. “Do you like her, Daddy?”
“Yeah,” Michael replied slowly. “I think I do.”
14.
Rob
FOR THE NEXT THREE DAYS, ROCCO GATTA FOLLOWED Nancy everywhere she went: to the Crossgates Mall in Albany; to the Stratton Mountain School, where she dropped off and picked up Isabel and Zoe; and to Manchester, Vermont, forty minutes away, where she shopped at a store called the Jelly Mill.
The Jelly Mill advertised “gifts for every interest in a festive atmosphere highlighted by a 1914 nickelodeon…fine collectibles, toiletries, essential oils, candles in every shape and color, bubbling garden fountains, cards, and some of the most appealing sculptural pieces you’ll ever see.” It was somewhat downscale by Nancy’s standards, but after all, she was in Vermont, not Hong Kong.
Gatta captured her on video as she entered the store, but he did not follow her inside. With his dark glasses and a face that looked as if it had been carved, none too skillfully, out of granite, Rocco Gatta was not the sort of guy who would have blended easily into the background at the Jelly Mill. He just
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