"No, we're home, but I was forwarding calls from the shop for some late pickups."

Bart had twigged to the good news, standing with a hand on Gino's shoulder. Gino was smiling as he scratched Ziti the chocolate Lab behind the ears. Directions given, Tony closed up his cell.

"We're sure this one's the real deal, Tony?"

"Certain. The niece described him to a T. And they live near the Wissahickon. By water, like Gino said."

"Look, pardner, I hate to do this, but since you're already too late for Bridget, I can still keep Nicolena happy, just barely, if I leave now . . . "

"Go," Tony said. Might as well finish what he'd begun. "Merry Christmas, pard. You can visit me in the hospital after Coll gets done with me."

Bart shook hands with Gino: "Take care, Gino. Glad we found your niece. But, Gino . . . spring for a map or two before you drive anywhere again, OK?"

"Yes, yes, a good idea. Very good." Gino folded his hands across his pot belly and watched Bart race out the door as he tried to make it to his mother-in-law's in time for calamari.

"Well, Gino, your niece and Carl are on their way. Til then, it's just you and me - and Ziti, of course."

For a man who'd been near collapse an hour or so before, Gino had rallied quite well.

"Thank you, friend, for staying with me. And for finding my Jen. You are good to do that."

"De nada, Gino."

"You are missing something for family because of me?"

"Yeah, well, right about now, my daughter Bridget is singing a solo at the church Christmas pageant. She's 12, Gino, and she sings like an angel. That's kind of a Dad thing to say, I know, but I swear that girl's voice is touched by God. Everyone says so. But, well, I did miss this one; there'll be others."

"At this pageant, they tell the story of Mary and Joseph at the inn?"

"What? Well, yeah, guess so."

Ziti whimpered in bliss as Gino stroked his head. The old man smiled; the baffled geezer of an hour ago was gone: "Sometimes, you know, there's no room at the inn. No power either."

Well, maybe not all the bafflement was gone. That statement made little sense. Neither did the next:

"And the Ziti here, we had a talk. He won't bark and bite at the vacuum anymore."

"That'd be nice," Tony said absently, peering out the window in search of headlights turning into R&B's lot.