Blue Smoke

you.”
    “Mama, I couldn’t say it in front of Dad.”
    “Of course not. That’s all right. This is women’s business.”
    Women’s business. The phrase made her feel special, and the warm bath eased the achiness. By the time she got downstairs, the family was in the kitchen, and she could tell by the gentle way her father touched her hair he’d been told the news.
    There was a somberness around the table, a kind of exhausted quiet. But at least Bella seemed to have used up all her tears—for the moment.
    She saw her father reach over, lay his hand over Mama’s, squeeze it before he began to speak. “We have to wait until we’re told it’s safe. Then we’ll start cleaning up. We don’t know yet how bad the damage is, or how much time it’s going to be before we can open again.”
    “We’re going to be poor now.” Bella’s lip trembled. “Everything’s ruined, and we won’t have any money.”
    “Have you ever not had a roof over your head, food on your table, clothes on your back?” Bianca asked sharply. “Is this how you behave when there’s trouble? Crying and complaining?”
    “She cried the whole time,” Xander pointed out as he played with a piece of toast.

    “I didn’t ask you what I can see for myself. Your father and I have worked every day for fifteen years to make Sirico’s a good place, an important place in this neighborhood. And my father and mother worked to build all that for more years than you can know. It hurts. But it’s not the family that burned, it’s a place. And we’ll rebuild it.”
    “But what will we do?” Bella asked.
    “Be quiet, Isabella!” Fran ordered when her sister started to speak.
    “I mean, what do we do first?” Bella asked again.
    “We have insurance.” Gibson looked down at his plate as if surprised to find food on it. But he picked up his fork, began to eat. “We’ll use it to rebuild or repair or whatever we need to do. We have savings. We won’t be poor,” he added with a stern look at his middle daughter. “But we’ll need to be careful, for as long as it takes. We’re not going to be able to go to the beach like we planned over Labor Day weekend. If the insurance isn’t enough, then we’ll have to go into our savings, or take out a loan.”
    “Remember this,” Bianca added. “The people who work for us have no job now, not until we can reopen. Some of them have families. We aren’t the only ones hurt by this.”
    “Pete and Theresa and the baby,” Reena said. “They might not have any clothes or furniture or anything. We could give them some.”
    “Good, that’s a positive thing. Alexander, eat your eggs,” Bianca added.
    “I’d rather have Cocoa Puffs.”
    “Well, I’d rather have a mink coat and a diamond tiara. Eat. There’s going to be a lot of work to do. You’ll all do your part.”
    “Nobody. Nobody,” Gibson added with a jab of his finger toward Xander, “goes inside until you have permission.”
    “Poppi,” Fran murmured. “We have to tell him.”
    “It’s too early to call him with news like this.” Bianca pushed food around her plate. “I’ll call him soon, and my brothers.”
    “How could it have happened? How can they tell how?” Bella asked.
    “I don’t know. It’s their job. Ours is to put it back together.” Gibson lifted his coffee cup. “And we will.”

    “The door was open.”
    Gibson turned his gaze to Reena. “What?”
    “The door, the front door, was open.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “I saw. I saw the door was open, and the lights—the fire in the window. Maybe Pete forgot to lock it.”
    This time it was Bianca’s hand that reached out and covered her husband’s. Before she could speak, the doorbell rang.
    “I’ll get it.” She rose. “I think it’s going to be a very long day. If anyone’s tired, they should try to sleep now.”
    “Finish eating,” Gibson ordered. “Take care of the dishes.”
    Fran rose as he did, came around the table to put her arms around him. At sixteen she was slim and graceful, with a femininity Reena recognized and envied.
    “It’s going to be all right. We’ll make it even better than it was before.”
    “That’s my girl. Counting on you. All of you,” he added. “Reena? Come with me a minute.”
    As they walked out of the kitchen together, they heard Bella’s irritated, “Saint Francesca.” Gibson merely sighed, then nudged Reena into the TV room. “Um, listen, baby, if you don’t feel well I can spring you from