Chapter 9
Early the next morning, Gina offered to take her aunt to her apartment. “You can’t keep wearing that Juicy sweatsuit around the house. My stoner roommate, Thad, won’t be able to resist you much longer. Good thing he stays at his girlfriend’s most of the time.” They both chuckled.
“You’re right, I don’t know how any man can resist me,” Angie said.
They both left Gina’s apartment building and Gina drove her run-down Subaru sedan into a parking space near Vinnie’s apartment. She took her aunt’s hand as they walked to the entry. “I’m here for you.”
“Thanks, I couldn’t do this without you.” Angie squeezed her niece’s hand.
“In my wish of all wishes, I wish Vinnie would be sitting in his easy chair waiting for me to cook him dinner.” Angie covered her mouth with a handkerchief and started to sob. “This will be the first time I walk through the door knowing my husband won’t be coming home.”
Gina could see Angie’s hands shaking and gently took the keys from her, opened the door to the apartment building, and helped her aunt step up onto the tiled floor of the entryway.
Gina skimmed the old brass mailboxes that lined the right wall and found the name Sortino.
Finding the mailbox key on the key ring, she opened the mailbox, which was full of cards addressed to Angie.
“You take them home and open them, Gina. I just don’t think I can right now,” Angie whispered.
Gina placed the cards into her purse and put her arm around her aunt’s waist as they slowly ascended the stairs. The echo of their footsteps reverberated, filling the space around them. Gina noticed she was holding her breath and forced herself to exhale deeply.
As Gina recalled what had happened less than a week earlier, it felt like a time warp.
Time was moving faster in one way and in slow motion in the other.
Angie had not yet come home after she received the call from the emergency room that Vinnie had had a massive heart attack and was rushed from the jobsite to the emergency room.
She remembered the call from her aunt summoning her to the hospital.
“He’s gone, sweetheart. Get your mom and come meet me.
Now,” Angie had sobbed into the phone. Everything had happened so fast—funeral arrangements, decisions about what he should wear at the wake.
Gina and Connie knew that Angie could not handle these decisions. She stayed at Connie’s, so Gina and her mom took care of everything, including coming to the apartment to get clothes for Vinnie and toiletries and a funeral outfit for Angie.
As they continued to walk up the stairs, Gina glanced over at her aunt.
“We’ll get through this together.” Gina was doing everything in her power not to break down.
I have to be strong for her, Gina thought.
As they approached the apartment front door, Ben—Angie and Vinnie’s neighbor down the hall—stepped out and walked toward them.
“Oh, Angie, let’s get you inside. I am so sorry.
” He walked over to Angie and wrapped his long, thin arms around her.
“Thanks, Ben, he loved you so much. I was so comforted you were at his funeral,” Angie mumbled as she sank into him and sobbed.
Ben was part of their family; he had lived down the hall from Uncle Vinnie ever since Gina could remember and long before Angie was on the scene.
Ben worked for the city of Chicago for over forty years, retired, and was always coaching Vinnie on how to navigate the city systems in order to survive.
Gina grinned when she remembered that Vinnie would always give Ben a hard time for being what he called a “loser” White Sox fan.
Gina watched Angie lean into Ben’s warm embrace, stepped around them, and walked into Vinnie’s apartment.
She looked at the familiar, cozy living room, the crocheted red, white, and blue blankets that Angie made draped over the La-Z-Boy loungers with a shared table in the middle.
Gina had watched more baseball games and Disney movies than she could count there.
This was her safe home, away from the loud arguments of her parents.
The wall opposite the loungers was the shrine, as they all referred to it.
The World Series flag was displayed above the huge TV, solid evidence that the Cubs indeed did win in 2016 after 108 years, along with framed photos of Vinnie with Bill Murray, Aunt Angie, and Vinnie at game seven in Cleveland.
Gina walked into the kitchen. Two stained coffee cups, spoons, and crusty plates were still in the sink. She was about to check the fridge when Ben called out, “Hey, Gina honey, can you help me get our gal to her chair?”
Gina glanced over and could see Aunt Angie leaning on Ben, her knees buckling. Running over, she put her arm around her aunt and she and Ben got Angie to the chair.
“I can’t stay here—I just can’t,” Angie sobbed.
“It’s okay, I’ll pack some things and we’ll go back to my place. Ben, you want to take her down to your apartment?”
“Sure. Angie, are you able to stand up and walk with us?”
Ben and Gina walked Angie down the hall into Ben’s living room and made her comfortable on his couch. Ben sat next to her and put his arm around her, and Angie leaned into him.
Gina lightly touched her aunt’s shoulder. “I’ll go pack your bag, then lock up and come back. Sound good?”
Angie slowly nodded her head.
As Gina was walking toward the apartment, a stout, gray-haired man approached her. “Aren’t you Angie’s niece?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Your aunt is so proud of you. She’s shown me pictures from time to time and so did your uncle. By the way, I haven’t seen anyone around. Everything okay? I’m Gus, the building manager.”
Gina’s heart sank. “I’m sorry to tell you, my uncle Vinnie died. We just had his funeral.”
Gus gasped. “I am so sorry. I hadn’t heard. Where’s Angie?”
Gina pointed down the hall. “At Ben’s. I’m packing her some clothes and we’re heading back to my place. It’s been a nightmare.”
Gus just shook his head. “I won’t bother you right now, but would you ask Angie to call me or maybe you could call me tomorrow?
There seems to be a hiccup with the last two months’ rent payments.
I’m sure it’s nothing, but I need to get it handled.
The owners have been calling and wanting to know where the rent money is.
They are very strict. I’ll let them know what happened, but they’re all about keeping their apartment buildings full and generating revenue. ”
Gina swallowed hard, then said, “I understand, Gus. I’ll call you tomorrow after I’ve had some time to speak with Angie. Can you give me your number?”
She walked inside the apartment and Gus followed, taking a pen from his shirt pocket protector and rummaging around for a piece of paper.
He scribbled down his name and number and handed the wrinkled piece of paper to Gina.
“Thanks, Gina. Let me know if there is anything I can do. I’ll do my best to buy you all some time to sort things out. ”
“I appreciate that, Gus. I know Angie will too.”
Gus left and Gina went into Angie and Vinnie’s bedroom, opening the closet door to look for a suitcase or bag to pack Angie’s things. When she saw all of Vinnie’s clothes hanging, she fell to the floor and broke down crying.
“Why! Why did this have to happen?” All the memories of her uncle Vinnie, her godfather, came flooding into her mind. She couldn’t believe this. Last week he was alive, joking, giving her bear hugs. Now he’s gone. She buried her face in her hands and cried.
Gina finally stood up and looked in the closet, moving her hands through his ironed shirts and pants.
The smell of his cologne brought back all the long hugs over the years.
No one made her feel safer than her uncle.
He taught me how to keep score at Wrigley when I was five.
He’s the reason I’ll always be a Cubs fan. She let her tears keep coming.
Gina found a small suitcase on the closet floor, placed it on the end of the bed, and started packing.
She mindlessly selected an assortment of blouses, slacks, and a few dresses, folded them and put them in the suitcase.
She opened the top dresser drawer that had all of Uncle Vinnie’s pressed handkerchiefs, cuff links, and other personal items neatly organized.
Gina knew Aunt Angie prided herself on taking great care with all of his things and ironing his clothes.
Gina remembered how he would ask her aunt, “Are we Vegas ready, sweetheart?” and Angie would say, “Always, my love, let’s go!
” and indeed there were times when they did just that.
Connie, the family travel agent, would get them a cheap package, and off they’d go.
Gina opened Angie’s dresser drawer. A recent Cosmopolitan magazine promising tried-and-true ways to keep your man was tucked beneath the underwear.
That made her smile. She packed the rest of the items, including several pairs of her aunt’s pajamas.
There was a folder marked PRIVATE in bold letters at the bottom of Angie’s underwear drawer.
Gina put that with Angie’s things. She really wanted to look inside but would never breach her aunt’s privacy.
She closed the suitcase, locked the apartment door, and went down to Ben’s place.
Before knocking she took a long, deep breath, told herself, Stay strong for your aunt, and tapped on his door.
Ben opened it. “Come on in, would you like a cup of tea? I made one for Angie.”
Gina put the suitcase down and went into the kitchen where Angie was sitting at the small Formica table. “No thanks, Ben, I need to get my aunt home and then get to work.” She looked over at Angie. “Are you okay to walk downstairs?”
Angie placed the teacup in its saucer and stood up. “I’m better now. Thank you, Ben, for all your kindness. Thanks for being my family; it means the world to me.” She gave him a hug.
“Vinnie was like a brother to me. I’ll water the plants and take in your mail until you’re ready to come back. You promise me you’ll take extra special care of yourself now.” Angie nodded. Ben walked them out to Gina’s car. He opened the door and made sure Angie got in comfortably.
Gina placed the suitcase in the back seat. “Oh—you’ll need her keys,” she realized and said to Ben.
“Vinnie and I had each other’s keys for years. I’ll just need the mailbox key.”
Gina took the mailbox key off the key ring and handed it over to him. Ben opened the car door for Gina; she slipped behind the driver’s seat. Ben bent down and looked over at Angie. “You call me anytime, day or night.”
“Ben, do you know anything about a storage unit Vinnie had? Beatrice is hounding me for the key, and I have no idea what she’s talking about.” Angie wiped her eyes.
Ben ran his fingers through his hair. “That Beatrice, you can always count on her stirring things up. I’ll deal with her. Let’s talk about that later; you need to get some rest and take care of yourself.”
Gina started the car and Ben tapped the roof. “Be safe.”