Chapter 2

Four flights of stairs in a Brooklyn walk-up. How does Mrs. Napoli get around since her surgery, Angela wondered as she huffed up the remaining stairs? She'd be sure to ask her.

"Well, we're here," Tony said unnecessarily. He rapped at Mrs. Napoli's door with Billy in tow.

Mrs. Napoli was slow to answer the door. They could hear shuffling behind the front door, and when she opened it, she was leaning heavily on a walker.

"Did you bring the lasagna?" she asked, peering at Tony's empty hands.

"I've got it," Angela said. She held the casserole high up in the air but could not hand it to the older woman, who remained clutching her walker. The smell of stale garlic and cat piss wafted past the three visitors.

"You can put it in the kitchen," Mrs. Napoli directed before turning her attention to Billy. "My Billy! How is my grandson?"

"I'm okay Grandma." He pushed past the walker and made himself at home on the plastic covered couch.

Angela walked over to the kitchen, holding Tony's lasagna. She noted the dirty linoleum and unwashed dishes.

"Do you want to watch some TV?" Mrs. Napoli asked Billy. She turned the set on for him and slowly made her way to the kitchen. "Let's have some of this lasagna, heh?"

"Er, we don't let Billy lunch in front of the television," Tony said. He followed Mrs. Napoli and began to unwrap the foil from his casserole dish. He looked for some clean plates but found none. He looked at Angela and at the mess in the kitchen sink.

"Do you need some help with these dishes, Mrs. Napoli?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, it's not like I can afford a dishwasher. Ha!"

"Sure thing. Here let me …" Tony began, as he searched for some liquid detergent. He grabbed four dirty dishes and some cutlery and began washing them with quick efficiency. Once done, he served four portions of the lasagna he'd brought with him.

"Billy, can you come to the table please?" Angela said. She went over to turn off the TV but was blocked by Billy's grandmother.

"I said he can watch TV while we eat." She placed her formidable figure between Angela and the television set and held firmly onto her walker. "It's educational." Billy was not watching an educational children's show; it appeared to be an adult crime drama.

"But we don't let him …" Angela was interrupted by Mrs. Napoli's loud harumph.

"He's my grandson and I say, let him watch. We need to talk."

Angela meekly backed away from the older woman and headed over to the table. She grabbed Billy's portion of food and handed it to him, knowing that this battle was lost.

The three adults sat around the dining room table, just out of earshot of the TV. They silently began to eat. Finally, Tony spoke up. "Mrs. Napoli, no offense but this place is a mess. You've got your walker and Billy is a lot of work. I don't see how you can take care of him." Having said what he intended to say, he took another bite of his food.

"My place is a mess? Well, excuse me. It's not like I can afford a housekeeper."

"That's not what I meant. It just seems that everyday chores might be too much for you right now and adding a little boy into the mix … well, it would be too much." Tony gesticulated with his hands as he spoke.

"That little boy can make himself useful and help his grandma, no? Doesn't Billy do chores?"

Tony and Angela shared a glance. "He, um, he sets the table and keeps his room tidy, but he's only six years old," Angela said.

"You spoil him. When I was six years old, I had to help my mama in the kitchen and clean the dishes," the old woman replied. "She hit me if I didn't obey."

"Well, we certainly would never hit Billy!" Angela exclaimed, aghast now. She looked at Mrs. Napoli in horror and then over at Tony, her eyes frantic.

"Yeah, we don't believe in hitting any child!" Tony added. He swallowed hard and asked Mrs. Napoli if she believed in corporal punishment.

"I would never hit my Billy," the old woman stated. "I was just saying that I was hit as a child, and I was not spoiled, like you spoil my grandson."

Unconvinced and worried, Angela cast her eyes around the apartment, taking in the threadbare soiled carpet, the paint peeling off the walls, and the insidious clutter. She could not bare to leave Billy here.

"How would you get up and down four flights of stairs with your walker?" she finally asked, the question being on her mind since their arrival.

"When I need to leave my apartment, I take the service elevator," Mrs. Napoli said. "But I only need to get my groceries once a week. Otherwise, I don't go out."

"You don't go out? But how would you take Billy to school?" Angela stared at the older woman.

"What? Billy doesn't have legs? He can walk to school by himself. It's only two blocks from here."

"Mrs. Napoli, he's only six years old. He's still in kindergarten! He needs an adult to accompany him to school." Tony's voice rose with his insistence.

"I suppose you drive him everywhere, eh? His personal chauffeur?" Mrs. Napoli rolled her eyes. "That child is spoiled."

"No, he's not spoiled. We take good care of him because he's a small child, and we love him." Angela wiped at a fat tear of frustration and faced Billy's grandmother head on. "You don't appear to be capable of taking proper care of Billy."

"And who are you to tell me that? You're the woman Tony lives with. The blonde." She made a dismissive gesture toward Angela, as though the status conveyed upon her now made her less important in Billy's life.

"I'm more than that. I've become like a mother to Billy."

"Humph," was the old woman's reply. She took a big bite of lasagna and chewed noisily.

"Look Mrs. Napoli, leaving Billy in our care was a terrific idea," Tony began. "We've been working with a social worker and Billy is very happy with us. He's growing up in Connecticut and goes to a good kindergarten. And we love him like he's our own kid."

"You cannot possibly love him as much as his own parents did, God rest their souls." Mrs. Napoli did the sign of the cross and bowed her head. "My poor son and daughter-in-law, killed by a drunk driver." She let out a string of Italian curses and wiped at her tears. "And Billy is all I have left of my own son now. You would take him away from me? A grieving mother?"

Angela and Tony looked at each other in alarm. "We're only trying to give Billy a better future," Angela said. "We are so sorry for the loss of your son, and we're not taking Billy away from you. You can visit with him as often as you'd like. We're happy to bring him here or bring you to our place."

"But he's my grandson. He's no relation to you."

"We don't have to be related to be a family. Angela and I have raised each other's children and we're a family." Tony looked at the old lady, his face earnest and open and honest.

"But you're not married. Living together isn't a good example for my grandson."

"I'm Angela's housekeeper. We don't 'live together' in the way you're implying." Tony shook his head.

"You're the housekeeper. That's even worse. What an example for my grandson."

"What are you saying, Mrs. Napoli? You think we don't set a good example for Billy? Well, let me tell you, we show him love and compassion and respect. We teach him how to be a good citizen, and he's thriving in our care. He's a happy, polite, bright, and well-adjusted child. He has friends and is doing great in school. You cannot fault us for anything!" Tony was indignant now, his face flushed, and nostrils flared.

"Yes, Tony is right about all of these things," Angela chimed in. She clasped her hands under her chin and nodded furiously.

The old woman studied them both for a minute. She said nothing, just continued chewing her lasagna. Finally, she spoke. "You cannot simply keep my grandson. He belongs with me."

"Please Mrs. Napoli. Please reconsider. Billy is so happy with us." Angela wasn't above pleading with the older woman. "Social services are very pleased with the placement. They can tell you how well Billy is doing."

"Billy can tell me. Billy, come here!" her loud voice boomed throughout the small apartment and in the corner of the room, a cat jumped.

Billy ambled over toward the adults. He took his time before finally coming to stand before them.

"Billy, how do you like living with these two?" his grandmother asked. Before the child could answer, she added, "and do you love them more than me?"

Billy blinked, taken aback by the second question. "I don't love them more than I love you, Grandma," he said.

"See, he loves me more," Mrs. Napoli declared with a nod and smile.

"But I do like living with them," the little boy affirmed. "I have my own room, and the house is so big, and I love my school."

"You … you don't have your own room here?" Angela asked. She had not toured the apartment and did not realize that Billy shared a bed with his grandmother.

"No, he does not have his own room here. He sleeps with me." Mrs. Napoli glared at Angela as though challenging her to say something. "I'm not rich. This is a one-bedroom apartment. Yes, you have a big fancy house and a housekeeper," she glanced over at Tony. "But my grandson loves me, and he belongs with me."

Billy looked confused and glanced over at Tony for understanding. "What's she saying?"

"Billy, your grandmother wants you to come back and live with her again," Tony said. "But Angela and I want to keep you and have you live with us." He almost winced as he spoke, uncomfortable about revealing all of this to a six-year-old, but also knowing that Billy needed to understand what was going on. His fate was being decided, after all.

Billy threw his arms around Tony. "I want to stay with you," he cried.

Mrs. Napoli threw Tony a murderous look. "You've poisoned my grandson against me!"

"No, we haven't," Angela said defensively. "He wants to live with us. I told you that he's happy with us."

"No wonder, with all your fancy things and you spoiling him." Bitterness dripped out of the old woman. "But you cannot keep him. I expect him back in three days."

"Three days!? But he's in the middle of a school term. We can't simply upend his life like this!" Angela felt like she was about to cry, and she looked at Tony helplessly.

"You bring him back in three days or I call the police. You'll be kidnappers!"

"What?!" Tony and Angela were both aghast at the mere suggestion and staggered back in disgust. "After everything we've done for Billy, you'd bring the police into this? I can't believe it." Tony's mouth hung open in shock. Angela stood up and came to stand behind Tony, one hand on Billy's back.

"We can involve social services, Mrs. Napoli," Angela said, her voice dreadfully calm. "Have them check out your place. See how you aren't managing and how you expect Billy to walk to school on his own. You aren't in a position to bring him up."

Billy looked back and forth between the adults as though he was following a tennis match, his head swiveling to and fro, a frown of apprehension on his small face. Angela noticed him and went quiet.

"We cannot discuss this right now," she said, indicating Billy with a tilt of her head.

"I think we need to leave," Tony announced. He stood up and put his arm around Billy's shoulders. He and Angela exchanged a quick glance and began maneuvering the little boy toward the door.

"I want him in three days!" Mrs. Napoli yelled at their departing backs. "Three days!"