Chapter 33
Ray reclined on a chaise in the living room of Kenny’s twelfth-floor co-op, staring out wall-to-wall windows with views of the East River. His friend had come a long way from the small, cramped Greenwich Village studio apartment he’d decorated with secondhand furniture.
“This is really nice, Kenny. You did good, brother.”
Kenny handed Ray a wineglass. “Thanks. I have to admit, I had a lot of help from Frankie’s uncle, who left me a little something in his will.”
Frank, holding a wineglass, walked over and sat on the leather sectional. “My uncle left Kenny and his mother more than a little something. He left them almost all of his estate.”
Ray turned to stare at Frankie. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy or resentment in your tone?”
Frankie shook his head. “Hell, no. My uncle left me the D’Allesandro business, and I’ve increased profits by more than fifty percent in less than five years than my uncle made in nearly twenty years.”
“That’s because you’re an accountant, and your uncle wasn’t.”
“It’s more than that,” Frankie said softly. “I’ve decided to diversify, because I discovered Uncle Frank was much too conservative when it came to investing.”
Ray took a sip of wine, staring at his friends over the rim. He knew he had to tell them that he’d fathered a child and he wanted to marry the boy’s mother. “Kenny, I’m glad you arranged this get-together, because I need to tell you and Frankie something I hadn’t known anything about a week ago.”
Rising slightly, Frankie removed a handkerchief from the pocket of his slacks and wiped his nose. “Come on, Father Torres. Spit it out!”
“I have a son.” The words, though softly spoken, had the impact of a stinging right hook to the jaw. The expression on the faces of the two men registered shock.
“When?” Kenny asked, when he recovered from Ray’s rev elation.
Ray set his glass on a side table, then told them everything about recognizing the boy with the last woman with whom he’d had a sexual relationship as his son, to the details of his conversation with Migdalia Hernandez.
Kenny smothered an expletive under his breath. “You’ve made the decision to leave the priesthood to marry her and legitimize your son?”
Ray nodded. “She hasn’t agreed to marry me, but that doesn’t matter. I intend to have a relationship with my boy, and I can’t do that if I’m totally committed to the Church.”
“Have you talked to the boy?” Frankie asked.
“No. I’m waiting for Micky to contact me for a time and place when that can happen.”
“So, she wasn’t lying when she said she was carrying your baby,” Kenny said, meeting Ray’s eyes behind the lenses of his own glasses.
“No. But I refused to believe her, because we never had unprotected sex.”
“I could’ve told you that you had a son,” Frankie announced, smiling.
“Either the coke or the wine has gotten to you, Frankie, because you’re talking crazy,” Ray said, accusingly.
Kenny sat up straight. “What the hell are you talking about, Ray?”
“You don’t know, Kenny?” Ray asked.
“Know what?” Kenny retorted.
“That our brother is a cokehead. He’s snorted so much that he can’t stop his nose from running. And don’t you dare tell us that you have a cold, Francis D’Allesandro, because we’re not dumb or stupid!”
Frankie held the handkerchief to his nose. “I’ll admit to snorting a few lines every once in a while, whenever I’m stressed out.”
Kenny moved closer to the end of his seat. “You were so stressed out that you come to my home high, Frankie? And I hope you don’t have any of that shit on you, because if you do, then I want you to walk the fuck out of here and get rid of it!”
Frankie buried his face in his hands. “I swear I don’t have any on me.”
“What kind of stress are you having?” Ray asked him.
Frankie lowered his hands, blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I really love this girl, but she won’t let me touch her. She says she won’t sleep with a man unless she’s married.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Ray questioned.
Frankie glared at him. “Everything. I’m not going to marry a woman, then find out she’s no good in bed.”
“Marriage isn’t all about sex.”
“Spoken from a man who hasn’t seen or touched pussy in ten years,” Frankie spat out.
“That’s enough, Frankie,” Kenny warned. “Either you respect Ray’s chosen vocation, or you can leave. I invited everyone here so we can catch up on what has been going on in our lives since Uncle Dee’s funeral, not to attack or insult one another.”
Frankie glared at Kenny. “One thing I can take is a hint, because this is the second time you’ve talked about showing me the door.
You wouldn’t have this place if my uncle hadn’t given you and your mother a shitload of money.
You’re the son he always wanted, and your mother the wife he could never have. ”
Spittle had formed at the corners of his mouth when he glared at Ray.
“And you want to know how I knew about your son? Well, I’ll tell you.
I went to my uncle and asked him if he could find some people to take out the guys who beat you the fuck up, and he did.
He paid them, and they did what they had to do to make certain they would never hurt anyone ever again.
That’s when he told me the girl had your kid, because her boyfriend was locked up for six months when she was fucking you.
But he made me promise never to say anything about the dudes who took care of your attackers or about the kid.
And didn’t you wonder why you’d been beaten up and left for dead? ”
“I know why I was assaulted, Frankie. Because one of my attackers told me it was retribution for, as he put it, ‘fucking with his lady.’ It was because I was sleeping with Migdalia Hernandez, who’d been his girlfriend before he was locked up.
You didn’t have to say anything, because when I saw her last week, she told me everything.
” Ray paused, slowly shaking his head. “You’re not to be trusted, Frankie. You broke your promise to your uncle.”
“Don’t you dare preach to me, Father Torres!
Or judge me. Yes, I dabble in drugs, but I asked my uncle to do something he didn’t want to do because of you, Ray.
When I saw you lying in that hospital bed with tubes and machines keeping you alive, all I thought about was getting revenge on those who’d put you in that bed.
My godfather did it because if anyone else had asked him what I did, he would’ve turned his back on them without a backwards glance.
My uncle wasn’t a gangster, but in that instance, he became one when he paid people to exact revenge for me, and I know it was something that bothered him for years.
Something he told me he’d confessed to Father Morelli before he died. ”
Kenny groaned. “Damn, brothers. I thought us getting together wouldn’t turn into a gripe and therapy session where we’re divulging things that are better left unsaid.”
Frankie managed a lopsided grin. “Blame it on the coke.”
“Spoken just like a junkie,” Kenny accused.
“And don’t you dare deny you’re not addicted to the stuff.
Have you forgotten, number man, that I’m a social worker who will encourage clients to go into rehab if they hope to regain custody of their children.
And the ones who really want their children will do it, and those who are ambivalent will continue to abuse, because they’re afraid to face reality when they’re clean and sober.
The fact is that your girlfriend isn’t the only excuse why you’re using, so if you don’t want to lose her, then I suggest you seek counseling. ”
“Can I come to you?” Frankie asked Kenny.
“No, Frankie. We’re too close, and I don’t think you’d want to listen to what I have to tell you. My becoming your therapist would destroy our friendship.”
“So, we’re still friends?”
Kenny smiled. “We’re brothers to the end.”
“Brothers to the end,” Ray repeated.
“Ditto,” Frankie drawled.
Kenny stood up. “I’ve spent most of the morning cooking, so I hope you dudes brought your appetites, because I don’t like leftovers.”
Ray rose, extending his hand to Frankie. “Come on, brother. Let’s go and get our eat on.”
Frankie took the proffered hand and wrapped his free arm around Ray’s neck. “I’m going to need you to pray with me,” he whispered.
Ray kissed his cheek. “Any time, Francis. Just let me know the day and time.”
Frankie nodded. “I’ll let you know after I talk to my girlfriend. There’s a lot I need to tell her.”
“Are y’all coming?” Kenny called out from the dining room.
“Yes,” Ray and Frankie answered in unison.