Sunday Evenings

Adriana stared at the clock, and then watched the second hand count down. 8:50:50. She reached for her cell as she continued to count. "Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one—" The phone rang with its familiar Cops theme ringtone. "Hello, Henry," she greeted as she sat down on the sofa. "What's the clue?"

Henry laughed. "You know me too well, My Dear," he started. "Did Francis ever tell you that you should be a detective?
"Bite your tongue, Henry Reagan. We D'Angelo's are in the lawyering business."

"Oh, you're a Pip, Aid, that's for sure." He brought the paper up so he could read the clue in the Times crossword. "I swear, they get harder and harder every week," he grumbled.

"Of course they do. They have to keep you on your toes."

"And how long did it take you to do today?" he challenged.

"About an hour, but not in one sitting. I had to help with dinner."

"I wondered why you didn't come over today."

"Wasn't invited."

"Aid, you're always invited. You don't need a specific invitation. Just show up. You know the door is always open."

"Henry, did you ever think that maybe some Sundays Frank wants to be with just you and the kids and not have me hanging around?"

"No, and don't think like that either. You're always welcome here any time of the day or night."

A lump formed in Adriana's throat. While she and Frank tried to keep their relationship quiet and at a distance, his father was busy reassuring her that she was welcome in their home. "Thank you, Henry," she said thickly. "That means a lot."

"Hey, I didn't mean to make you cry-"

"You didn't. Sometimes I get stuff stuck in my throat."

"If you say so," he said, accepting her word, but knowing differently. He shuffled the paper in front of his eyes. "Anyway, 46 across, Ford Classic, 7 letters."

"Mustang."

She heard him filling in the letters. "

M-U-S-T-A-N-G. It fits!"

"See what happens when you're a Buick guy?"

He laughed. "Yeah, well, Buick's been good for this family for 50 years. What would I do without you, Aid?"

"Well, for one thing, you'd have a stack of unfinished Times puzzles sitting around taking up space."

"This is true. You'll come for dinner next Sunday?"

"We'll see what this week brings, okay?"

"Fair enough," he agreed. "I'll call you Thursday to find out for sure."

"Sounds good."

"Goodnight Adriana. I love you."

"Goodnight, Henry. I love you more."

Henry smiled as he turned off his cell. Frank could do a heck of a lot worse.

Frank entered the study carrying a fresh bottle of Scotch and two glasses. "She give you the answer?"

"Of course she did."

"I told you it was Mustang."

Henry leaned forward in his chair. "Francis, you think I didn't know the answer was Mustang? Of course I did."

"So, why did you call her?"

"She needs to feel needed. This is my way of making her feel needed."

"Could have just asked her to come for dinner."

"I did. She said she thinks you want alone time with me and the kids sometimes."

Frank took a sip of his scotch. "She's not used to having a bunch of people invading her space. She's an only child, you know."

"As are you. But you had four of your own. You got past that long ago. She needs to get past it, especially if you plan on making her a part of this family."

Frank sighed. "Pop, we like things the way they are right now."

"I'm just sayin'."

"I'm in no hurry to get married again, and neither is she."

"She said she might come next week."

"That means if she can get out of brunch at the Plaza."

"So, we'll just have to make her find a way to get out of brunch."

"Pop, you are incorrigible," Frank sighed.

"Hey, it never hurts to have another pretty face around the dinner table."

"This is true," Frank agreed. Especially when it was a sexy Italian judge sitting off to his side. "I'll talk to her."

"Good! Now how about a refill?" he asked as he held out his glass.