The Capo’s Daughter Needs No Permission Chapter 38
Before the pilot launched, my mother sent me an email.
*At graduation, you said we might be able to eat together once in a while.*
*If that offer still stands, the time and place are yours to choose.*
She didn’t book a restaurant.
She didn’t add *Mom misses you* at the end.
I let the email sit for two days.
Then I picked an ordinary restaurant near my office.
I invited only my father and mother.
*Saturday, noon.*
*One hour.*
*No gifts, and no extra people at the last minute.*
My mother replied:
*Okay.*
At eleven-fifty on Saturday, they were already there.
My father hadn’t brought guards.
And there was no food pre-ordered for me on the table.
When the server handed us menus, my mother’s eyes flicked instinctively to the seafood section before she quickly closed it.
“You pick.”
I ordered barbecue and vegetables.
She told the server, “Please make sure there is no shellfish and no shared cookware.”
Then she looked at me.
“Is that okay?”
I nodded.
It was the first time she had ever asked me that in a restaurant.
Halfway through the meal, my father brought up the education fund pilot.
“Some people are very unhappy that you removed the special authorization.”
My spoon paused over my bowl.
“Did you come here to persuade me on their behalf?”
“No.”
He set his hands under the table.
“The fund asked me if that kind of authority was necessary.”
“I told them it wasn’t.”
I looked at him.
My father, who had once cared more than anything about whether a capo’s orders could be carried out without question.
Now he had personally surrendered an entry point that would have allowed him to bypass someone else’s consent.
“That doesn’t change what you did before,” I said.
“I know.”
He didn’t try to explain.
My mother didn’t take the opportunity to ask when I was coming back to Newark, either.
When the hour was up, I set down my napkin.
Her eyes reddened, but she only said, “Thank you for being willing to come.”
My father stood, too.
“Next time is up to you.”
I made no promise that there would be a next time.
When I walked out of the restaurant, my mother didn’t chase after me for a hug.
At last, they had learned that before you can move closer to someone, you have to ask their permission, too.