Chapter 35
“It’s finally come to this,” Frankie whispered in Kenny’s ear. “Now that Ray’s living in Connecticut, it means we have to break up the band.”
Kenny gave his friend a sidelong glance.
He, Ray, and Frankie were the same age, but time hadn’t been as kind to Francis D’Allesandro.
He’d struggled with his addiction, relapsing over and over until Kenny found a residential rehab facility on Long Island that had helped him to get and remain clean for the past three months.
Frankie had earned enough credits to leave the facility to come to the Bronx to see Ray, his very pregnant wife, and son before they returned to their home in Connecticut.
Kenny knew it wasn’t easy for Frankie to stay drug-free once his girlfriend left him following his second relapse.
Ray had resigned his role as a Catholic priest to accept one as pastor and teacher at a Lutheran school in Fairfield, Connecticut.
He’d married Migdalia a week after resigning from the Catholic Church and legally changed his son’s name to Micah Alexander Hernandez Torres.
It was a mouthful for a twelve-year-old to say, but it was a tradition for Spanish kids to have a lot of names.
Many things had happened in two years. His mother had retired and went on an around-the-world cruise, meeting up with a group of retired women, who had invited her to join them on future ventures.
When Justine wasn’t traveling, she divided her time volunteering at a senior citizens’ community center, teaching dressmaking.
Occasionally she would ask him who he was dating, and the answer was always the same.
He was going out socially but there wasn’t any special woman in his life.
Kenny knew his mother wanted grandchildren, but he wasn’t willing to bring a child into the world without marriage just to pacify her.
Kenny hugged Ray, thumping his back. “Stay in touch, Father Ray.”
Ray kissed him on both cheeks. “That’s a promise. I need to get on the road before I run into holiday traffic. Or before Micky decides to go into labor on our way home.”
“It would serve you right if you have to pull over and deliver your own baby because you decided to drive down here instead of us coming up to your place.”
“We only came down because Frankie isn’t allowed to leave the state, and there was no way I wanted to miss seeing my blood brother before taking on a new position and with a baby that’s due any day now.”
“Once he graduates, I’ll drive up with him but only after you guys have completely settled in.”
Ray smiled. “The door will always be open to you and Frankie.”
Kenny nodded. “I know that. And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
“I have everything I need, Kenny. A loving wife, wonderful kid, and another on the way. Now I wouldn’t mind you becoming godfather to my son or daughter, but first you have to be baptized.”
“The day I find a woman I want to marry, I will allow you to put water on me. Then after I have kids, you can baptize them, too.”
“Sounds good, Kenneth.”
Kenny knew Ray was serious when he called him by his full name. “Now go and drive carefully. You’re carrying precious cargo.”
He watched Ray help his wife into the minivan and then his son, waiting until they’d secured their seat belts, then rounded the vehicle to get in behind the wheel. He watched as it vanished from sight, then walked over and nodded to Frankie.
“Let’s go, buddy. I have to get you back before six.”
Frankie slowly nodded. “I don’t know why, but I thought you would be the first one to marry and have kids, because you didn’t chase as many skirts as me and Ray.”
“Chasing skirts is tiresome, Frankie. I can honestly say that I’m ready to look for a special woman to marry and start a family.”
“How special does she have to be?”
“Special enough to put up with me. The older I get, the more set in my ways I become.”
“That’s because you don’t mind your own company,” Frankie said, as he walked with Kenny to where his friend had parked on the street in front of the Torres house.
“I can’t fight with myself, Frankie.”
“That’s the difference between you and me. I can’t stop fighting with myself. It’s as if there’s a war going within me that I sometimes feel I’m losing.”
Kenny draped an arm around Frankie’s shoulders. “You’ve been winning the battles these past three months, so you’re not losing.”
“Three down and nine to go,” Frankie drawled.
“You’re going to make it, brother, even if I have to drive more than a hundred miles to come see you every week instead of twice a month.”
“That’s not necessary, Kenny. I have to confess, this is the first time in years that I’ve been clearheaded enough where the cravings have stopped.”
Kenny wanted to tell Frankie that although people who are addicts may change their behavior, they will relapse if they don’t change what’s going on in their heads.
“Good for you. Let me know what you want to listen to on the way back.” Kenny had established a ritual of playing music instead of talking whenever he was in the car with Frankie, because he didn’t want to slip into the role as a counselor.
They were lifelong friends, and that’s the way he wanted and liked it.