“College, Greg. College, college, college.” Mr. Genaro spun Greg around by the shoulders, grabbed the back of his neck with both hands and squeezed.

“You and Ma didn't go.”

“We shoulda. Besides, it's different now. It's gettin' so ya gotta have college. When we was kids, your ma and me, it was ya don't graduate high school, ya can't find a decent job. Now it's college. Your ma's job? She wouldn't get that right outta high school today. I dunno why they think ya need college to ring up an order and hand someone a bag of cannoli, but they'll take a college grad over a high school grad any day. All the new young gals workin' there with your ma, they all got college.”

He raised his fists, bobbed and weaved, threw a few punches at the heavy bag then crouched down, opened the mini-fridge and took out a bottle of beer. He twisted off the cap and tossed it into the black plastic trash can beside the fridge. He noticed me sitting across the way in the beanbag and did a double take. He smiled, squinted and jerked his head back jutting his chin at me.

“Who the hell's this guy?”

“Oh, crap, yeah. This is Billy, Dad.”

“Billy? The upstate kid?”

“Yup.”

I stood and walked over to them. Mr. Genaro looked at me, twisted his face up funny and tilted his head. He looked at Greg. He looked at me. He looked at Greg. He looked at me. He looked at Greg. He jabbed his thumb in my direction.

“The kid that knocked Aldo Santorelli down?”

“Yup.”

“This kid?”

“Yup.”

Chuck, Hop and Greg laughed. Mr. Genaro widened his eyes and stepped toward me. He cocked his head to one side and gave me an appraising once-over while he circled around me with slow steps. He whistled.

“This little squirt,” he asked when he got back around in front of me.

“I told ya, Dad.”

“We all told ya, Mr. G,” Hop said.

“Yeah, okay. A little runt, ya said. But this little? Mia nonna mia!” He shook his head and laughed. “I'm a full grown man and I might think twice before gettin' in Aldo Santorelli's face. Okay, I know his old man, that's part of it. I know what kinda trouble that could spell. His old man's got a no-show job with the Electricians Union, okay? Ya know what kinda guy gets a deal like that. 'Nuff said. Anyway....” He shook my hand, pulled me toward him, gave me a hug and a pat on the back. “Ya stick up for my boy, you're an honorary Genaro.” He let go, stepped back and jerked his thumb indicating Hop and Chuck. “Just like these two knuckle-draggers.”