Chapter 4

The suburbs north of Philadelphia

It was a toss-up. What was more annoying: the kids arguing about whose turn it was to feed the dog or the alarm clock buzzing away on its third snooze, sounding annoyed that Andrew wasn’t up yet? Or perhaps getting up and going to a job he truly hated was the real annoyance. No matter. He was already late, and even though the little voice in his head kept saying,Call out today; you really need to call out today, he ignored it as he shut off the alarm and dragged himself to the shower. It was a day like any other, and he needed to get on with it.

Andrew Lemon, like most Americans that morning, was simply living the American dream. He had a good job that paid well. He had retired a year ago from the US Marine Corps after twenty-two years of service as a Gunnery Sergeant. With two tours in Iraq and two tours in Afghanistan, he had done his duty to his country and was now moving on to the next phase of his life as a civilian. His wife of eighteen years, Melissa, had stood by him through all of his deployments, and their relationship was as strong as ever. They still truly loved one another after all this time. They had two children—a son, David, age sixteen, and a daughter, Kathryn, age thirteen. Along with his marriage, they were the true joys of his life. With another combat deployment looming, he had opted to retire rather than put his family through another eight months of angst with Daddy in harm’s way.

Andy was a fourth-generation American of Italian descent, though his name didn’t suggest it. When his great-grandparents arrived in the country, a mix-up at Ellis Island had forever turned the ancient family name of Limongi into Lemon. It wasn’t uncommon for customs inspectors at Ellis Island to mutilate difficult-to-pronounce ethnic names into something more Americanized.

Most times, the immigrants didn’t discover this issue until much later in the process due to the language barrier, and once they understood the error, they figured it wasn’t worth the hassle. They were just happy to be in the United States, so they moved on with their new “American” names. So just like that, Antonio Limongi had become Anthony Lemon. Andrew’s grandfather used to say, with his hands in the air and his shoulders shrugging, “America give us a lemon, so we make lemonade!” It was a running family joke that was just a matter of fact. They were the Lemons.

His great-grandfather had come to this country with ten dollars in his pocket, a pregnant wife, and a dream to start a better life. He worked hard at several odd jobs before finding steady work at the local grocer in their Brooklyn neighborhood. Well-liked by the owner as his hardest worker, eventually he was brought on as a business partner. Anthony Lemon, his wife Marcella, and their two sons, Anthony Jr. and Michael, were a turn-of-the-century American success story.

When the US entered World War II, Michael Lemon signed up to serve in the US Marine Corps before they could draft him into the Army. He deployed to the Pacific and served as a private in the Second Marine Division. He fought and was wounded on the Pacific island of Saipan. He returned home and took over the family grocery business from his father. He married and had two sons, David and Peter.

David followed in his father’s footsteps and joined the US Marine Corps before he could be drafted. He deployed to Vietnam and was wounded at the siege of Khe Sanh in 1968. He returned home after recovering from severe injuries, but instead of taking over the family business—a career his brother gladly undertook—David decided to go to college and earn a degree in criminal justice. Soon after graduation, he joined the NYPD.

After joining the NYPD, David married his high school sweetheart, Anntonella “Ann” Rengazzi. She often teased David, saying, “What kind of Italian is named David Lemon? You’re not Italian. Someone just told you that, right?” David’s usual reply was to shrug his shoulders, raise his hands, and say, “Easy there, Mrs. Lemon” while feigning anger.

Ann and David followed the family tradition and had two sons: first Andrew, and then Anthony eighteen months