Steven said. “She’s beautiful!” “That’s great,” Piero said, “Just great! The mother’s okay?” He covered the telephone mouthpiece and shouted to Lucia: “Steven’s had a girl.… Yeah, yeah, I’m here. So what’s she weigh?” He was an expert on babies. Lucia was expecting their fourth child. “Just six pounds,” Steven said. “She came a little early, but it was easy, and Angela’s fine. Tell Mama, won’t you? And Papa …” “I’ll tell them,” Piero promised. “Mama will be happy. You know how she is about babies. Listen, Steven, maybe we could come out and visit and bring her. How would that be?” “You think Papa would let her go?” “I don’t know. We could talk about it. Lucia and me and the kids would love to see you. We miss you, Steven.” “I miss you too,” was the reply. “How’s everything? No troubles?” “No troubles,” Piero assured him. “No Fabrizzis, no troubles.” He laughed. “And Clara’s gone off on her broomstick!
