Chapter 21
Justine felt as if she’d been doused by a bucket of cold water, despite the heat of the sun coming through the windshield. There was an ominous tone in Frank’s voice that frightened her. “If what you want to tell me is upsetting, then I don’t want to know what it is.”
“I lost a kidney two years ago,” Frank said, ignoring her objection.
“I was experiencing pains in my back,” he continued, “and when they became unbearable, I finally went to a doctor, where he discovered one of my kidneys wasn’t functioning properly.
It was removed, and when it was biopsied, the pathologist found cancer.
I underwent chemo and radiation. I lost all of my hair, and there were days when I wasn’t able to keep food down.
I lost over thirty pounds, and once my oncologist said I was cancer-free, I was able to eat solid food again. ”
Justine closed her eyes. She’d believed his weight loss was from dieting. She opened her eyes and glared at him. “Why did you wait until now to tell me this? You could’ve told me when you were first diagnosed.”
“I told Kenny and made him promise not to say anything to you.”
“Why, Francis?”
“Because I knew it would upset you, and I didn’t want you worrying and hovering over me like you do with Kenny.”
“I thought we were friends,” she spat out.
“We are friends, Justine. But there are times and situations when friends have to sit it out. My cancer ordeal was something I had to go through alone.”
“But you didn’t have to be alone,” Justine said, as she continued to debate the issue.
“It’s over, so can you please let it go?”
A beat passed. “How are you now?”
“I’m still here, doing okay with one kidney. But I did have one lingering side effect from all that chemo. It left me sterile.”
Her jaw dropped, and Justine couldn’t imagine what that would do a man’s psyche and his virility. “I’m so sorry, Francis.”
Frank smiled, attractive lines appearing around his luminous eyes. “It’s okay. I’ve had plenty of years to sow my wild oats. I’d also planned not to father children.” He paused. “And it’s been a while since I’ve been able to achieve an erection.”
She couldn’t believe he was joking that cancer had been instrumental in stopping his tomcatting. “Do you miss not having sex?” Justine questioned.
He shook his head as he turned off Broadway and headed in the direction of Amsterdam Avenue. “I remember you saying you don’t miss what you don’t have, and it’s the same with me. And the answer is, no, I don’t miss it.”
What Justine didn’t miss was having had meaningless sexual intercourse with Dennis Boone.
As a young girl, she had been robbed of her virginity.
It had taken her a long time not to feel guilty about touching herself.
The first time she had an orgasm, she lay savoring the sensation, relishing having been born female.
She usually waited until Kenny was out of the apartment for an appreciable amount of time to close the door to her bedroom and assuage her sexual needs.
Knowing what she knew now about the pleasure of masturbating, she thought back to the time when Frank had kissed her in the kitchen and why she’d stopped him from making love to her.
Initially it was her fear of getting pregnant, then being overwhelmed with guilt that she’d slept with a man who thought nothing of seducing a woman when her son, without warning, could’ve walked back into the apartment.
“I suppose that makes us kindred spirits,” she teased.
“We’re like priests and nuns who have taken vows of celibacy,” Frank said, chuckling.
Justine reached over and rested her left hand on his right on the steering wheel. “That’s why we are friends.”
Reversing their hands, Frank gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Not knowing whether I was terminal has allowed me a new perspective on life, and that’s when I decided I needed a will. I’ve made provisions to leave you and Kenny something.”
“No, Francis.”
“Yes, Justine. I don’t have a wife or children, so why not?”
“What about your nieces and nephews?”
“Gio has enough to take care of his family after he sold his grocery store and took over the butcher shop. He makes enough to send all his kids to private school.”
“Gio’s family, unlike me and Kenny.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he argued softly. “You and Kenny are the best things to have come into my life in a very long time. I’m a businessman who occasionally will do things I must do to keep my businesses solvent.”
With wide eyes, Justine stared at his impassive expression. Something told her he was alluding to criminal activity. “Whatever it is, I don’t want to know about it.” It was the second time she had denied wanting to know what he was going to say.
“I know what you’re thinking, but I’m no different than a chief executive officer of a major corporation who will do whatever it takes to maintain profits. It’s called free enterprise.”
“Are you saying that heads of Mafia families are CEOs?”
“They operate on the same principles as General Motors, Ford, or General Electric. It’s all about supply and demand.”
“Are you in the Mafia, Francis?”
He slowly shook his head. “No, Justine.” There came a pause before Frank said, “Would it make a difference to you if I was?”
“Yes, because it’s responsible for drugs that are polluting Black and Spanish neighborhoods.”
“You talk about Black and Spanish neighborhoods. You act as if White kids don’t take drugs.
You don’t see them because they’re not waiting in doorways or on street corners, waiting for pushers to sell them a nickel- or dime-bag of shit.
They live in nice suburban enclaves and wait for couriers to deliver their drugs.
They have the money where they don’t have to steal from their parents or hit an old woman over the head to get her purse to get enough for their next fix.
And don’t forget, it is Black people who sell drugs to their own people,” Frank continued with his monologue.
“That still doesn’t make it right, Frank,” Justine argued softly.
“Drugs are like a plague that’s going to spread across this country like a pandemic, and I don’t believe it when government officials claim they don’t know how to stop the flow of drugs coming into this country when they are able to identify every foreign spy living on American soil.
Profits from drugs is what is propping up our economy, and if they were able to eradicate it, companies like Ford and General Motors would go out of business, because it’s the criminals who buy expensive cars, purchase expensive homes, and fill bank vaults with drug money. ”
“As you say, Justine, you’re preaching to the choir. I would never touch the stuff or get involved with drugs, because I saw what it did to my sister.”
“How old was she when she died?”
“Nineteen.”
Justine slowly shook her head. “So young.”
“I’d like to ask you something,” Frank said when they were a block from her building.
Justine extricated her hand from his. “What is it?”
“Will you go away with me for a week?”
His question was so unexpected that Justine was unable to say anything for several seconds. “When and where?” she asked, answering his question with one of her own.
“When you have vacation time coming to you, I’d like to take you to Puerto Rico.”
Excitement eddied through her, because she’d never been on a plane or traveled out of the country. Something told her Frank also had a wish list of things he wanted to do because of what he’d gone through after being diagnosed with kidney cancer.
“What about Kenny?”
“What about him, Justine?”
“Do you think it will be okay to leave him here alone?”
“Dammit, woman! The boy’s eighteen and old enough to go to war and make you a grandmother. I can’t believe you’re worrying about leaving him alone. If that’s your only concern, then I can drop him off to stay with Gio. He and Frankie can hang out together for a week.”
“He probably would resent having someone chaperone him while I’m away.”
“You have to learn to trust him, Justine. It would be the same if he were to go away to college.”
Justine knew she had to accept the fact that Kenny was an adult. “Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“I’ll go away with you. I’ve put in for a week’s vacation the last week in July.”
“Give me the exact dates so I can order airline tickets and make a reservation for a hotel.”
“Francis.”
“What is it, Justine?”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
Frank parked along West End Avenue, then turned to look at her, his eyes making love to her face. “I’m the one who should be doing the thanking. You have no idea of how much I need you in my life …”
Justine placed her fingers over his mouth, stopping his words. “Don’t, Francis. You need me and I need you, but for very different reasons. So, let’s enjoy the time we’ve been given.”
“You know that I love you.”
“I can recall you telling me that before.” She knew he was waiting for her to tell him that she also loved him, but her love for Francis D’Allesandro was more of a need to help her learn to trust without prejudice.
“Come upstairs with me,” she said, “so I can change out of this suit.”
Justine waited in Frank’s living room as he changed his clothes.
His apartment was the quintessential bachelor pad, with navy-blue leather seating and solid oak end tables.
The highly polished parquet floors in a herringbone design were covered with blue and white area rugs with geometric designs.
Either he was obsessively neat, or he had someone clean his apartment.