Chapter 14 #2
She hadn’t felt the guilt with Pamela, because she knew their friendship had a time limit; however, it was different with Francis.
Justine couldn’t just pick up and move so she could keep her secret, because she’d have to come up with another reason or excuse why she couldn’t continue to live where she was.
Local officials were talking about an urban renewal project that would raze four blocks to put up co-op apartment developments, and her tenement building was part of the projected plans.
She was barely able to pay her rent and knew there was no way she could save enough money to purchase an apartment, even one as small as a studio unit.
The other alternative was to move into public housing, something Justine didn’t want.
And if she was forced to move, then she hoped it would be after Kenny completed the ninth grade.
Then he could go to a high school where he could make new friends.
“I’ve gotten used to it being just me and Kenny,” she said after a lengthy pause.
“Are you saying you’re never lonely?” Frank asked, his blue eyes boring into her.
“Lonely how?” Justine didn’t know why she continued answering his query with a question. “Are you talking about male companionship?”
Frank nodded.
“I don’t miss what I don’t have. It’s been more than a decade since I shared a bed with a man.”
“Don’t you have urges?”
This was a question Justine didn’t how to answer.
She’d slept with Dennis Boone twice, and at no time had she felt a modicum of passion when he’d had sex with her.
However, there were occasions when her body betrayed her, and it was several days before she saw her menses.
It was when her breasts were more sensitive, and she was unable to ignore the pulsing between her legs that made her bite her lip to keep from moaning.
“Yes, Frank. I have urges.”
“But you don’t do anything about them.” His question was a statement.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t.”
“Why can’t you?”
“Because I promised myself I wouldn’t get involved with a man until Kenny goes to college.”
“But that’s another five years.”
Justine almost laughed when she saw an expression of shock sweep over Frank’s features.
There was nothing remarkable about his face, and his appearance would have been nondescript if not for his eyes.
They were an odd shade of blue. They weren’t sky blue, or sapphire, but what she thought of as a medium blue mixed with a small amount of green.
She’d purchased fabric with the same color labeled cornflower.
“Almost thirteen down and five to go,” she said jokingly, and laughed. Frank’s laughter joined hers, and both were unaware when the front door opened before they realized they were not alone.
“Mom?”
“Kenny, I didn’t hear you come in.” Justine saw her son staring at Frank, who stood up.
“Hello, Mr. Dee.”
Frank nodded. “Kenny.”
“Mr. D’Allesandro came to bring me a—”
“That’s okay, Mom,” Kenny said, interrupting her. “You don’t have to explain why he’s here. Frankie told me his uncle likes Black women. So, it’s all right with me if he wants to date you.”
Justine stared at Kenny as if he were a stranger. She had no idea he’d known of his friend’s uncle’s proclivity for Black women. “We’re still eating, so do you want me to fix you a plate?” she offered, after finding her voice.
“No thanks. After the movie, we stopped and ate pizza. I’m going to change my clothes, then watch television. It’s nice seeing you again, Mr. Dee.”
Frank was grinning like a Cheshire cat when he said, “Same here, Kenny.”
Justine retook her seat. “Sit down, Francis, and stop gloating.”
He sat, his smile still in place. “Oh, it’s back to Francis? Does it bother you if the man of the house gave me permission to date his mother?”
“Kenny is not the man of this house.”
Suddenly his face went grim. “Kenny is physically a man, isn’t he?” Justine nodded. “I know he’s not going to be considered an adult until he’s eighteen, but I believe he’s mature enough to know what he would like for his mother.”
“And what is that?”
“He doesn’t want to see you alone.”
Justine replayed what Frank had just told her. It was obvious Kenny and his friends traded secrets, and she wondered if he was worried that she hadn’t remarried or that she didn’t have a boyfriend.
“I’m not alone. I have my son.”
“Why are you being so stubborn, Justine? Can’t you spare a few hours to go out to dinner or take in a movie every once in a while?”
She met his eyes. “With you?”
His expression softened. “Yes. Why not with me.”
“Won’t it bother your friends for you to be seen with me?”
Frank counted slowly to ten so he wouldn’t let loose with a stream of curses in English and Italian that would ruin his chances of seeing Justine again. He gave her a lethal stare. “No. My friends know better than to say anything about who I see and if I were to find out about it.”
“What are you going to do, Francis? Punch them in the mouth?”
“No, beautiful. I wouldn’t punch them.” He knew Justine was ambivalent about going out with him when she chewed her lower lip. “I’ll understand if you’re not ready. And if you decide you don’t want to go out with me, then no hard feelings.”
“Will we still be friends?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“I’m not ready to say no but are you willing to wait to the beginning of summer. By that time, I won’t have many typing projects unless someone is taking summer classes.”
Frank wanted to tell Justine that he’d waited more than twenty years, and waiting another two months was like the blink of an eye. “Of course I don’t mind waiting.” He picked up his fork to finish eating the roasted chicken that was so tender, he didn’t need a knife to cut it.
“One of these days I’m going to return the favor and cook for you.”
“You cook?”
“Of course. My mother taught all of her children to cook.”
“What do you make?” Justine asked, before she took a bite of chicken.
“Everything. The only thing I don’t attempt is her marinara sauce, because it takes too long. But I do know how to make it.” Although he realistically knew what he’d hoped to share with Justine Russell would not lead to marriage, he was willing to accept whatever she offered.
“I’m really looking forward to that.”
“If you want, I can bring all the ingredients here and cook for you, if you’re still not ready to come to my apartment.”
Justine laughed softly. “You are really determined that we spend time together.”
Frank placed a large hand over his heart. “Guilty as charged.”
“Okay, Francis. If you’re free, then you can come by next Saturday. Just call to let me know you’re on your way.”
She was back to calling him Francis, and he wasn’t going to correct her.
She could call him whatever she wanted, as long as he could spend time with her.
Why Justine Russell and not some other woman?
Frank didn’t know, nor did he care. He knew if his father had been alive, it would’ve set off another family war, and this time Sal the Serpente would lose.
He was a thirty-seven-year-old man, not a sixteen-year-old boy, and now the head of his family.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Justine asked when Frank stood and began clearing the table.
“I’m helping you with the dishes before I leave.”
“No,” she said, taking the plate from him. “You go and tell Kenny you’re leaving and let me clean up my kitchen.”
Frank towered over her, making Justine aware that his height eclipsed her by at least six inches. “Are you sure?” he questioned, staring down at her under lowered lids.
“Very sure.”
Ducking his head, he kissed her cheek, then rolled down his shirt cuffs and buttoned them. “Thank you for dinner. It was delicious.”
Justine felt as if she’d been holding her breath the instant she opened the door to find Francis D’Allesandro standing there.
And now she could exhale. She had to ask herself what there was about him that had her agreeing to share a tiny portion of her life with him.
She wasn’t looking for a husband or lover, and definitely not a stepfather for her son.
Kenny had a father—a man he didn’t know, one who hadn’t known he’d fathered twin boys.
However, Justine had to admit she’d felt comfortable telling Francis about her sexual urges. And it was not to imply she needed him to assuage them. It had taken her a while to acknowledge she was a normal woman who had begun to recognize her own physical needs.
There were so many things she missed when she’d moved from the Bronx to Mount Vernon. She hadn’t had a boyfriend; she’d never been kissed; she didn’t attend a senior prom; and now, at thirty, there was the possibility that she would have her first date with a man who didn’t share her race.
Justine hadn’t lied to him about not being a racist, because it was her own people who’d altered her destiny. There would come a time when Precious Boone would pay for her deceit and blackmail once Justine exposed her as being a fraud.
She would wait until Kenny was old enough to deal with the circumstances surrounding his birth, and why his mother had to do what she did to protect him from the woman who’d conspired to have a young girl sleep with her husband, have his baby, then claim it as her own.