Chapter 87

“Wow,” Luciano said after we had walked through the suite, “this is huge. When did you say this building was built?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Marco said, “but sometime within the last two hundred years. Why?”

“Because it’s terribly well laid out for a building that old. My guess is that this building has been literally gutted and rebuilt within the last fifty years or so.”

“That could well be,” Marco said.

“The only thing it lacks that we have downstairs—is a terrace,” I said.

“That’s probably a good thing,” Marco said, “if we’re gonna have rug rats crawling around and then toddling about.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Rug rats?” Luciano said. “Does that imply that you’re planning more than one?”

“Yeah,” Marco said, “we are.”

“Does your grandmother know?”

“She knows that I plan to have children, and how, but she doesn’t know that it’s about to happen, and she isn’t to know—at least, not until after we have an actual kid to show her.”