The Vetting and Other Stories

The woman and the younger man moved from the graveside, talking as they walked. “It was really a bigger, fancier funeral than I expected. What was Dad thinking?” “You’re presuming, Tony, the cost of the funeral was out of character for your father? It wasn’t. Marco was always aware of how much he could spend. What was affordable. What money was needed so the basics were provided for the people who depended on him.” “Oh come on, give me a break. Giorgio and me have experienced and heard for years how tight Dad had to be with money. I just don’t believe it anymore. Maybe I never did. Dad must have squirreled away money all the time while he fed everyone a lot of baloney about what he could spend. And this fancy funeral proves what I’m saying. The money was always there.” As they reached the car, an older Buick, Tony said, “You want me to drive?” The woman stopped. “No, I’ll drive and I must say this, Tony: it’s terrible how you talk about your father. There is no excuse for it. And, on the way home from his funeral, too. What’s more, your words are hurtful and what you are saying, it’s simply not true. You should be sorry.” She unlocked the car doors, got in and started the engine. “Maybe, maybe, Mom, but I say it’s the truth, and me and Giorgio lived in the same house,” Tony said and slid into the passenger seat. “What in the world makes you say what you just did, Tony?” “It’s easy, easy. Remember, Mom, every time I needed a little money and had to tap The Bank of Dad, the Bank came through, right? How could it happen that way if Dad didn’t have the scratch tucked away?” “Yes, your Dad came through. But how you see it, Tony, is only part of the story. Dad was able to help, but did you ever think you didn’t know everything about what was going on, have all the facts?” “Like what facts?”