A Bookie's Odds by Ursula Renee Page B

Yes, he teased Celeste, but in the end he loved his sister and worried about her.
    The second the light turned to green, Nicholas leaned on his horn and shouted insults to the driver in the car in front of them. Then, instead of waiting for the vehicle to move, he darted into the opposite lane and passed it, swerving back into his lane seconds before an oncoming truck entered the intersection. Both of the unknown but endangered drivers honked their horns at such erratic driving.
    “Nick, slow down before you get into an accident. We can’t give Celeste what for if we’re dead.”
    He snorted. “I’ll haunt her if I have to.”
    “I’d prefer if I was breathing, not an apparition.”
    “Whatever.” He did not slow down. However, since he did not perform anymore foolish stunts, Georgia remained quiet for the rest of the drive.
    Nicholas squealed to a stop in front of the house next to his father’s, climbed over the front seat to the back, and hopped out onto the sidewalk. He held the door Georgia had swung open, then shoved it closed before following her to the brownstone.
    “We’re up here,” Mr. Santiano called from the living room.
    They raced up the steps to the parlor floor. Celeste sat on the blue sofa next to her partner in crime. A bruise on Gianni’s left cheek indicated he had already been introduced to Mr. Santiano’s fist.
    Nonna Sophie occupied a chair, her hand gripping the top of her cane. Mr. Santiano paced the length of the room. The tick in his jaw indicated it was taking all his strength not to further demonstrate his displeasure at the situation.
    “You’ve got some explaining to do.”
    “Please don’t be mad, Nicky.” Celeste jumped to her feet. She blocked her brother from reaching his friend. “We couldn’t think of any other way.”
    Gianni did not flinch or display any sign he was concerned about the outcome of Nicholas reaching him.
    “Sit down, Nick,” his father said. “It’s too late. There’s nothing we can do.”
    Nicholas’s face displayed the same confusion she felt. “Whaddaya mean, it’s too late?”
    “They’re married.”
    Celeste held up her left hand. A band similar to the friendship ring a boy had purchased from Woolworth’s for Georgia when they were in the eighth grade decorated her friend’s third finger.
    Georgia dropped into the chair next to the entryway. Her stomach lurched at the news.
    “You’re married?” Nicholas asked.
    “Of course I am. Gio’d only do right by me.”
    Nicholas’s mouth dropped open. He glanced from his sister to his friend. A smile slowly took over his face.
    “If you wanted to marry, why didn’t you say something instead of running off?”
    “We were afraid Papa would say no if Gio asked for permission.” She moved to Georgia’s side. “Aren’t you going to say something?”
    Georgia wanted to scream, “Have you lost your freakin’ mind?” and try to shake some sense into her friend. Instead of giving in to her first instinct, she gently shook her head as she whispered, “I can’t believe you’re married.”
    “Neither can I. Everything’s happened so fast.”
    “I don’t know what to say.”
    “How about ‘Congratulations’?”
    That would have been the first word out of her mouth if there was any cause to celebrate. However, she did not see any good coming from the marriage and could not pretend to share in her friend’s joy.
    Before they grew old waiting for Georgia to force the word from her mouth, Mr. Santiano stopped pacing. “Ladies, I need to discuss a few things with Gianni,” he announced. “Go upstairs and talk.”
    Celeste took Georgia’s hand. “Come on.”
    Georgia followed her friend out of the room. They ran up the two flights to the top floor, which Celeste and Nicholas had shared until he moved out.
    “You still haven’t said anything,” Celeste said once they were in her bedroom.
    “I’m in shock.” Georgia plopped down on the white floral quilt covering the