The story so far: Trying to help a lost, dazed old man find his family for Christmas, auto shop owners Tony Renzi and Bart Brewer have just fended off a scam artist/car thief who pretended to know the lost fellow.
As dusk turned into night on Christmas Eve, Tony and Bart decided to see whether switching duties could switch their luck in the hunt for Gino's family.
Before the episode of the liar with the scorpion tattoo, Tony had been dialing all the Bontempos in the White Pages, while Bart had been calling florists - since Gino vaguely recalled that his niece's husband owned a flower shop.
Now, Bart picked up on Bontempos, while Tony tried florists.
For a few minutes, Tony hit nothing but dead ends. Barry's Blooms, no answer. The Flower Cart, no help. Flowers by DiFilippo had a vowel at the end, but nothing else that linked it to Gino.
The office clock clicked to 5:23. Tony was going to miss his daughter Bridget's solo at the Christmas pageant. Done deal. Press on.
He dialed Carl's Creations in Mount Airy.
"Hello, Carl Sweetan here." In the background, a hum of voices.
"Hi, Merry Christmas, this is Tony Renzi at R&B Automotive out on the Pike. We're trying to help a lost old gentleman find his family for Christmas dinner. He stopped by our place an hour ago and his name's Gino . . . "
"My God! You're kidding! You've got Gino!? Jen, come quick. This fellow says he's found Uncle Gino; he's with him, he's safe. . . . Wait, he is safe, isn't he?"
"Yes. I think. He was half-frozen when he came through our door. But we warmed him up and fed him and . . . "
A new voice on the line, a woman's: "Uncle Gino is there? Gino Bontempo? Short, white moustache, old fedora, ratty old pickup?"
Tony laughed: "The same."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you. I'm his niece. We've been crazy with worry; he was supposed to be here yesterday and when he didn't call, I called the city police, the state police, everyone, but nothing. He's my godfather; he raised me after my parents . . . anyway, he's very dear to me and I just couldn't bear it if anything happened to him. What did happen?"
"As best we can tell, he got lost on the way down yesterday and just wandered around until he came to our shop. He was one confused icicle by then. I do have one piece of advice for you in the future . . . "
"What's that, Mr. . . . I'm sorry, I didn't get your name. I'm sure I'm being quite rude, but I'm just so excited, so relieved . . . I-I'm shaking."
"Hey, no worries. Happy to help. But lemme suggest this: It's never too late to buy a godfather a cell phone. And program your number into it."
Jen Sweetan agreed with a laugh, then put her husband back on the phone to get directions.
"Can you stay with him until we get there, about a half hour?" Carl asked.
A half hour? "Sir, I'm confused. Are you at your shop?"
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