Free One to Go by Mike Pace

it, but you didn’t really mean it.”
    â€œMaybe Aunt Gayle’s right, honey.” He looked at Tom. “Thank you. I know bringing her over wasn’t an easy decision.”
    â€œNo problem.”
    â€œUncle Tom’s going to take you home now,” said Gino. “But tomorrow, we’re going to talk to the court lady and see if you can stay longer next time.” He hastily added, “With Uncle Tom or Aunt Gayle present, of course.”
    Tom glanced down at his daughter. His mouth felt full of cotton. “Uh, look, if you want us to come in for a few minutes, I don’t see any harm.”
    Gino smiled from ear to ear, and without another word, carried his daughter into the house. Tom and Janie followed and closed the door. They moved to the family room, Gino and Angie refusing to let go of each other.
    â€œWhy don’t Janie and I go into the kitchen and have a soda so you two can talk,” said Tom.
    Gino nodded. “Take off your jacket and make yourself comfortable.”
    â€œThanks, I’ll keep it on. Little chilly in here.” He walked into the kitchen with Janie following close behind. She sat down at the kitchen table and he poured a couple of Cokes over ice. If ever he needed a little something to take the edge off, it was now. He opened Gino’s liquor cabinet, retrieved a half-filled bottle of Jack, and poured two fingers into his Coke.
    â€œIs Uncle Gino going to jail?” asked Janie.
    â€œI don’t know for sure, but he probably will. He did a very bad thing.”
    â€œI know, he killed Aunt Rosie. But you know what?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI don’t think he meant it. I think it was the brain germs.”
    How was he supposed to respond to that? Tell her she’s right, and the only reason Uncle Gino smashed Aunt Rosie’s brain to mush was because her father goofed up and decided not to murder anybody?
    â€œI think it was the brain germs too, honey, but that will be for a judge and jury to decide.”
    â€œIf he goes to jail, who’s gonna take care of Angie?”
    â€œWe all will, sweetie.” He looked through the door to the family room, where he saw Gino sitting inches from his daughter talking earnestly. Tom couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he didn’t need to. Gino would be explaining how he loved her mother and he doesn’t know what got into him. And maybe he did get sick, and the sickness made him do it, and he loved her very much, and no matter what happened, she needed to be strong.
    Tom glanced at the kitchen clock—almost eleven thirty already. His chest tightened. Could he do this? He drained his drink and reentered the family room.
    â€œSorry, but it’s after eleven,” said Tom. “Need to get these girls to bed.”
    â€œCatchin’ a cold? Your voice sounds funny.”
    â€œSore throat. Bug goin’ around.”
Forget about my throat, you should feel the battery acid sloshing around in my stomach
.
    â€œYou need to take care of yourself,” said Gino.
    â€œYeah.” This time his throat was so tight, the word was barely more than mouthed.
    â€œAngie, you go on back to Janie’s house with Uncle Tom,” said Gino. “I’m going to talk to Aunt Gayle tomorrow, and we’re going to work something out so maybe you can come home. Would you like that?” She nodded, wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and gave Gino a last hug.
    â€œYou girls go on out to the car and lock the door,” said Tom. “I’ll be out in a minute. I need to talk to Uncle Gino.”
    Janie took her cousin’s hand and walked her out of the house. Tom watched to make sure they were safe, then closed the door. Gino turned to him.
    â€œI want you to know I didn’t mean to kill her.”
    â€œI know. Let’s go into the kitchen to talk.” Gino followed Tom into the kitchen and sat down while Tom pulled two beers from the