A Mobster's Independence Day Picnic (3 page)

“What would you want to do Uncle Tommy?” Annalisa asked. “If you weren’t working for the family.”

Uncle Tommy stood flat-footed and stoic at the back of the crowd, the sun glinting off his glasses. He made an imposing figure, muscles apparent even under his suit.

“I respectfully refuse to answer,” Uncle Tommy said.

“Oh, come on,” Harry said. “I told you about my flower cart dream. What do you want to be? A dancer? A stock broker? A professional wrestler? Honestly, you’d be great at professional wrestling.”

Uncle Tommy paused. “Actually, I’m going to school part time,” he said. “I’m studying the actuarial sciences.”

“The acta…what?” Charlie asked.

“Math,” Annalisa interrupted. “He wants to be a math geek.”

“Actually, it’s more than math. It’s dealing with the theories of risk and uncertainty. Not too far off from what I’m doing now. And please refrain from calling me a geek,” Uncle Tommy said.

“Sorry, Uncle Tommy,” Annalisa said. “Geek is actually a term of endearment with the younger crowd. It’s not a bad thing.”

“Hey,” Harry said, frantically patting his short pockets. “Where’s my lucky penny?” He paled, and sat down as his knees wobbled. “I’ve lost my lucky penny. The clover’s fifth leaf has struck again.”

“Did you really want your own flower cart?” Aunt Shirley asked, putting a hand gently on his head.

“I did,” Harry said. “I realized that I really wanted my own flower cart. It sounds corny and strange, but it was really my dream.”

“Then you go for it,” Aunt Shirley said, handing him the penny. “You left it on the picnic table when the fire trucks got here. I grabbed it before it got lost in the commotion.”

“Aunt Shirley, you’re a life saver,” Harry said, a huge grin on his face. He stood up and gave her a hug. “What would I do without you?”

“So what have we learned today?” Aunt Shirley asked.

“Leave fireworks to the professionals,” Charlie said. “They carry a high danger risk.”

“Follow your dreams,” Harry said. “And flower carts are a perfectly acceptable dream for anyone, including a mobster. Oh, and if you have a lucky penny, try really hard to hang on to it.”

“No one is entirely normal,” Jeremy said with conviction. He leaned over to kiss Carla. “And I don’t think we’ll ever…ever have to worry about this family being too normal.”

“Psychology and superstitions have more in common than I’d like to admit,” Annalisa said.

“Mortality tables are an accurate way of predicting life expectancy for the average person,” Uncle Tommy said.

Everyone looked at him, and Uncle Tommy shrugged. “I studied this morning,” he said. “Before the picnic.”

“That talk about life expectancy makes my skin crawl,” Uncle Frank said. “No offense, Tommy. It’s probably because I’ve got one foot in the grave already.” Uncle Frank raised his lemonade cup in a toast. “To this fine country, and the opportunities it gives us. May we discover what our dreams are, and work hard to fulfill them. Whatever they may be.”

“Amen!” Mary Charlotte yelled.