Chapter 8 - THE WORKSHOP
The workshop stood behind the oldest Bellini house.
Rocco had not entered it since Gabriel died.
He could have.
He chose not to.
The building smelled of sawdust, engine oil, old coffee, and winter dust.
Gabriel repaired motorcycles there.
Built terrible furniture.
Played music too loudly.
Dominic stood in the doorway.
He did not enter at first.
Rocco unlocked it.
Then stepped aside.
“This is yours.”
Dominic looked at him.
“No.”
Rocco nodded toward the room.
“Gabriel left the key for you.”
Dominic entered.
Nothing dramatic waited inside.
No hidden vault.
No secret documents.
That almost disappointed him.
Then he saw the far wall.
A long wooden table sat beneath a sheet.
Dominic removed it.
Underneath was a rough model of a restaurant.
Handmade.
Badly.
Small tables.
Open kitchen.
Bakery counter near the entrance.
Dominic stared.
Rocco moved closer.
Two tiny wooden figures stood behind the counter.
One had G carved into the base.
The other had D.
Gabriel.
Dominic.
Dominic touched the second figure.
His hand shook.
Then he noticed writing burned into the wood above the miniature doorway.
NOT BELLINI’S.
Dominic laughed.
“Of course.”
Rocco almost smiled.
Under the table sat a box.
Inside were sketches.
Menus.
Kitchen layouts.
Most were terrible.
Gabriel had apparently spent weeks planning the restaurant he once asked Dominic to join.
Every page of the notebook was filled with arguments written to himself.
Dominic hates small tables.
Dominic will complain about rent.
Do not let Dominic choose music.
One line appeared repeatedly.
He’ll come around.
Dominic sat on the workshop stool.
Rocco remained standing.
Gabriel had not asked once.
He had planned as though eventually his cousin would say yes.
Dominic looked at the model.
“I thought he stopped asking because he was done with me.”
Rocco answered:
“He stopped asking because you kept saying no.”
Dominic nodded.
Hard truth.
Then he found something taped beneath the table.
An old photograph.
Gabriel and Dominic at seventeen.
The train station.
They were sitting on the platform floor.
Both smiling.
Someone had taken the picture with a disposable camera.
On the back Gabriel had written:
Next time we get on.
Dominic closed his eyes.
Rocco looked away to give him privacy.
Then another voice came from the doorway.
“I took that picture.”
Elena.
She stood behind them.
Dominic looked up.
“You knew?”
“About the station?”
“Yes.”
“About the restaurant?”
“No.”
Elena entered.
She looked at the small wooden model.
Then began crying quietly.
Rocco leaned against the workbench.
“Everybody in this family cries now.”
Elena glared.
“Improve your personality.”
Dominic almost smiled.
Then Elena revealed why she had taken the train-station photograph.
She had followed the boys.
Salvatore called Dominic weak at dinner after Dominic refused to join an older cousin in humiliating a waiter.
Gabriel defended him.
Both boys left.
Elena feared they would disappear.
She found them at the station.
She did not approach immediately.
For twenty minutes she watched them laugh.
Young.
Ordinary.
Free of the Bellini house.
Then Gabriel saw her.
He asked her not to tell.
She agreed.
Elena had kept the picture all those years.
She gave it to Gabriel when he turned twenty-eight.
Dominic looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because he asked.”
“Why didn’t you give it to me?”
Elena sat.
“Because Gabriel said you weren’t ready.”
Dominic laughed bitterly.
“Everyone keeps deciding when I’m ready.”
Elena accepted that.
“Yes.”
Another family habit.
Then she said:
“But he was wrong about one thing.”
Dominic waited.
“After he died, I found a note in his workshop.”
Rocco frowned.
“You were here?”
“Yes.”
Elena had come two days after the funeral.
She looked for anything that might explain why Gabriel was leaving.
She found a short message written on a scrap of wood.
Not for Dominic.
For Rocco.
Elena took it.
Then destroyed it.
Rocco went still.
“Why?”
“Because I was angry.”
“What did it say?”
Elena looked at her brother.
“Dad, if I go, don’t punish Dominic for staying.”
Rocco stared.
Elena continued from memory.
“He said Dominic wasn’t weak for staying.”
A pause.
“He was scared.”
Dominic looked down.
Then Elena whispered:
“And he said you were the one person who could make that fear worse without even realizing it.”
Rocco closed his eyes.
Elena destroyed the message because she thought Gabriel was insulting Rocco from beyond the grave.
She wanted the family united.
No more conflict.
No more questions.
Another truth erased in the name of protection.
Dominic laughed quietly.
“Mom.”
“I know.”
“You hid that?”
“Yes.”
He looked exhausted.
Not angry.
Just tired of discovering how much of his life had been curated by frightened people.
Then Rocco noticed something behind the restaurant model.
A small metal tin.
Inside were birthday cards.
Not Gabriel’s.
Dominic’s.
Every card Dominic had given Gabriel since they were teenagers.
Gabriel kept them.
Even the stupid ones.
Especially the stupid ones.
At the bottom was one final envelope.
Dominic recognized his own handwriting.
He went pale.
Rocco looked at him.
“What?”
Dominic did not touch it.
“That’s from the night before Gabriel died.”
Elena stared.
“What does it say?”
Dominic’s voice lowered.
“I told him I never wanted to see him again.”
Rocco waited.
Dominic picked up the envelope.
It had been opened.
Gabriel had read it.
Then put it with everything worth keeping.
Dominic unfolded the card.
Inside was his angry message.
Short.
Ugly.
You want out? Go.
Stop pretending you still have a brother here.
Dominic’s eyes filled.
Then he noticed Gabriel had written something beneath it.
Three words.
Still my brother.
Dominic sat down.
Rocco said nothing.
Then Hannah called.
Rocco answered.
Her voice sounded different.
“Rocco.”
“What happened?”
“Maeve found Gabriel’s old phone.”
Rocco looked toward the others.
“We already heard the voicemail.”
“No.”
Hannah’s voice lowered.
“Not that phone.”
Rocco frowned.
“There was another one?”
“Yes.”
A pause.
May you like
“And Dominic called it eleven minutes after the crash.”
Dominic slowly lifted his head.
