Love is Just a Moment (9 page)

But Romeo nodded like I’d gone ahead and said it anyway and then he slid down with a sigh into the chair beside me. “Here,” he said, passing me the coffee.

“Thanks,” I said and gratefully sipped.

Halfway through the cup I started to get my strength back and felt confident that I could talk like a halfway’s normal human being again and maybe thank him at last for saving both me and Gino from who knows what kind of tragedy.

Instead though, for some reason all I said was: “So what were you doing reading my brother’s texts?”

For the first time since I’d met him I noticed a slight flush go into his cheeks, even though his face remained completely rigid and unreadable. Then to my surprise he smiled a little, a kind of wry grin that could have meant anything in the world and would, over the coming days and weeks, grow to cause me many moments of frustrated curiosity and personal conjecture each time it appeared.

“I think he’s with Lisa,” Romeo said, “he left his phone at my place.”

I narrowed my eyes slightly. I knew I had no right to press him after all he’d done for me but the words were already out before I had a chance to stop them, propelled forward by the growing caffeine rush and the still-surging anxiety of the circumstances. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Romeo considered me levelly with those big deep bottomless pools that he somehow got away with calling his “eyes” and then he said: “You don’t approve of Lou’s work much, do you?”

“No,” I answered, “as a matter of fact I don’t. And like
you
said, it’s your work too, right?”

“Right,” Romeo nodded, “that’s right. So you shouldn’t ask about it or even want to get mixed up in it at all. Stick to your studies and make something proper of your life and just forget about whatever else goes on. But I will say this: the kind of work we do doesn’t wait around until we’re ready—when it calls, it calls and you just got to get up and answer that call. And so Lou might get reckless when he’s off out with his sweetheart but somebody has to be there to pick up the phone.”

I didn’t know what to say so I said nothing, except, finally: “well I’m just glad that you
were
there to pick it up. I don’t know what we would have done otherwise.”

Romeo shrugged but didn’t say anything back. His restless eyes were already prowling down the hallway and I wondered what could be going on behind them, what angle or job he was thinking about that he would have to move on to after this. I followed his gaze down the corridor where it settled on the well-toned rump of a quite-frankly beautiful looking young African American nurse and then, as I looked back to him, our eyes met and his eyebrow went up with that teasingly vague little smile of his and my own gaze shot to the floor, caught out, embarrassed and more than a little ashamed to have been found out for prying on him. Thankfully, He didn’t press the issue.

Sometime later, what felt like hours but was probably only forty minutes or so, Gino’s doctor stepped out of the room and came towards us, holding his clipboard in his pink, perfectly-manicured hand.

“Now, Sandy is it?” he asked, “the patient’s daughter?”

“Niece,” I said, reasoning that it was close enough to be almost true and so not feeling
too
bad about lying to an authority figure of such importance.

“Well the good news is your uncle’s going to be fine,” he said and I breathed a sigh of relief—a little too soon as it transpired. “He’ll even walk again, though it may take some time.”

My heart dropped again. Like how long? What about the café? I wouldn’t be able to run the place all by myself, no matter how much I would want to. I had my studies to think of and there was no way I could put them off without jeopardizing the scholarship that had afforded me to be there at CCU in the first place.

The doctor cleared his throat. “And now, unfortunately, for the bad news. I’m afraid your uncle has no health insurance and his bills are going to be, how can I put this, quite steep indeed.”

Romeo stood up, apparently all of a sudden interested again. “What about workplace insurance,” he cut in, “wouldn’t that usually cover an accident like this?”

“Usually, yes,” the doctor nodded, “unfortunately Mr. Morelli doesn’t have that either.”

I felt like I’d been hit in the stomach with a ton of bricks. Oh Gino, you foolish old man. What have you done?

“So what are you saying here?” Romeo asked.

“That either you or Mr. Morelli will need to inform us how you wish to proceed. The patient is under sedation right now, so you still have a few hours to reach your decision.”

The doctor nodded politely and then set off down the corridor to let us think it over. I looked to Romeo for support but this obviously wasn’t the kind of support he was used to giving, because he just stared blankly back. Luckily at that moment someone far more skilled at the supportive arts of love and nurture arrived behind me and threw her arms around my back, like a big loved-up teddy bear.

“Oh God, Sandy, I’m so sorry we didn’t get here sooner,” Lisa said.

“It’s ok,” I laughed, turning to return the hug, “but seriously, you should check your phone more often. You too Lou.” I turned to face my decidedly sheepish-looking brother, standing slightly behind his girlfriend. At least he appeared to understand the gravity of the situation anyway.

“We’re here now sis,” he said, then looked to Romeo and nodded respectfully. “Thanks man.”

Romeo shrugged. “She’s right Lou,” he said, “what if that had been Sal on the phone?”

I spun towards them angrily, not able to help myself, “yeah!” I spat, “what if it had been Sal… like, something
really
important.”

I didn’t even know who Sal was and was well aware that I had no right to take the higher ground with Romeo at this point but I couldn’t help myself. The experience had shaken me to the core and I still felt almost hysterical after it. Luckily everybody, even Lou, seemed to understand and the worst that followed was an uncomfortable silence. I sighed and began filling them in on what the doctor had told us about Gino’s bills.

“Hey, it’s fine Sandy,” Lou said, “I can take care of it. No problem.”

Lisa looked hopefully from him to me, while beside them Romeo’s face had suddenly gone cold.

“What do you mean?” I asked, “Do you actually realize how much this is going to cost?”

Lou held up his hand with a self-assuredness that unnerved me, considering the amount of money we were talking about here. (Just what was he into these days, I wondered?)

“I think we can cover it,” he said, “right Romeo?”

Romeo merely shrugged, but his eyes seemed piercing as they stared into mine. What, I thought—taking immediate offense at his obvious distaste—are you angry because I think I’m too good to accept your money, your illegally-gained proceeds of crime? Give me a break, I had enough on my plate to be dealing with that self-righteous tough guy crap.

“No,” I said, firmly and for certain.

“Sandy…” Lisa began.

“No,” I said. “Just no. We’ll figure something out when Gino wakes up. Maybe he has some money put aside for emergencies.”

“And what?” Lou asked, “You want to wipe him out over this! I already told you me and Romeo can cover it.”

“Gino made his choice when he broke the law about workplace insurance,” I said, “he’ll know what he has to do.”

“Unbelievable,” Lou muttered but Lisa put her hand on his arm to still him.

“Leave it Lou,” she said.

At that moment Romeo straightened up. “Lou, take your sister home. The old man’s going to be out all night and I’ve got things to do,” he turned to go and I called after him, stung and determined to have the last say on the arrogant jerk.

“Um, excuse me,” I said, “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m going nowhere. The doctor said Gino would be awake in a few hours and I’ll need to be here when he is.”

That little wry smile appeared on his lips again as Romeo turned back to face me. “Trust me,” he said, “he’ll be out all night no matter what the doctor said, now let your brother take you home. You want to be there for Gino? Then get a good night’s sleep so you can think clearly when you’re back here to see him wake up in the morning.”

Despite myself, I knew he was right… so no matter how much I might have wanted to, I couldn’t think of any other way to argue the point.

Lou placed his hand on my shoulder, “come on Sandy,” he said, “let me take you home.”

I turned to look back, but Romeo was already gone.

At night every street was the same—it didn’t matter if it was New York or Chicago—it all meant the same thing. It all looked the same. Sometimes he felt like the whole world was just one big labyrinth of twisting alleyways and crowded streets, bars and nightclubs and seedy back offices full of thugs and tyrants and killers that he had to do something,
somehow
, to stop—before they cursed the whole world to the hell they created around them. Yeah, he knew there was beauty out there, there were mountains and forests and nature and love in the world, hell, he’d even seen it, but sometimes… Sometimes that all seemed like just a dream he’d woken up from one foggy twilight morning. And now the twisting streets, bathed in the dim orange light of the streetlamps of midnight, well maybe this was all there really was—the whole unholy universe.

He shook his head, smiling slightly at himself at how he’d been letting his mind wander. They’d warned him that it would get to him—that it would start to press on his emotional resolve and even affect his thinking—but he hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected this
coldness
that had enveloped him. What happened when you told a lie for so long that it started to feel like the truth, even to you? What happened to your soul, did it just lock itself away deep inside you until the job was done? And what if he couldn’t let it out again when and if that happened? What then?

Somehow the thought filled him with a dread that was just strong enough to penetrate the all-pervasive chill that seemed now to be simply one more part of who he was as a person.

A light rain smattered on his windscreen and he flicked on the wipers. On the radio Credence were blasting out their version of “
I Heard it Through the Grapevine
” and he began to tap his hands on the wheel with vigor when they got to the solo that was, in his opinion, nothing short of virtuoso. Ok, so at least enough of him was still sufficiently vibrant and alive to enjoy the music, but then again with a solo this good, who wouldn’t? Even a dead man would rock out to this.

He drove on through the night on his way to make the meet, feeling grateful that the city seemed so quite tonight, even unusually so. Lana had arranged for the catch-up to take place at an overpass out near the St. Vincent Turnpike, a reconnaissance point that was, on paper at least, not half bad. But in reality—and Lana should have known this, and for the life of him he wasn’t certain that she
didn’t
actually know it—it was liable to be problematic. The turnpike was right near the Reichmann rubber processing plant, a factory with strong ownership ties to the Falcone Mafia Family, and the late-shift workers would be getting off work right around now, just as the night-shift guys would be coming on to replace them. Sure, none of them were likely to recognize him, flying under the radar at the moment as he was, but if any of the Falcone crew happened to be checking in that night then there was a good chance he would be recognized as the man known as Romeo Mancini. His face was already starting to be known in the necessary circles and, as planned, his reputation as a rising gangster was already growing fast.

But despite all this, it was something else entirely that preoccupied his mind as he drove the final ten minutes or so towards the overpass. He could still smell her—even though she’d only been in his car for five minutes at most that day—and this fact both confused and excited him, for reasons that he couldn’t quite consciously understand. Who she was, what she’d come from and what she represented—her brother—
her father for Christ’ sake
—every logical synapse in his brain impelled him to forget about her, but he couldn’t. He knew that even for all that she’d been through, all the tragedy and hardship and basic injustice that had formed the lives around her as she grew, she was, just like him, a genuinely moral and caring person. And even though that was so rare (or perhaps because it was), he’d still seemed to recognize and resonate with her true personality on a level that was almost soul-deep, instantaneously. Even after only meeting her a couple of times, he
knew
exactly who she was. Because, just like her, he too had grown from an environment that had been tarnished and corrupted irreparably by the predatory tentacles of organized crime. Together, hundreds of miles apart, and not meeting until early adulthood, they had both somehow survived that darkness with their morals and their souls intact. They had never embraced the seedy promise of criminality that was everywhere around them in their separate worlds apart and in that sense they were the same. He had never met anybody else who could even begin to understand what that meant and felt like so deeply.