14. JOEY
JOEY
G ame day at Yankee Stadium meant fans everywhere, decked out in navy and white, the pinstripes showing up on jerseys, young and old. People clutched hot dogs, peanuts, and foam fingers like it was some kind of religion. Antonio walked ahead of me, his head swinging left and right, taking it all in with these wide, curious eyes. It’s like he’s a kid again, not a kid who’s had to grow up too fast. I keep an eye on him as we weave through the crowd of fans. Part of me wished I could enjoy this the way he does, carefree and full of wonder. But I’ve been me for too long. Even here, with thousands of strangers screaming for the same team, a part of me is always on alert. But then I catch his grin when we step out into the stands, the field stretching before us like something out of a dream. For a second, it’s enough to make me forget who I am on the streets of New York.
Just as much as I liked Adriana, I liked Antonio, too. The two of them had entered my world, leaving a mark I never imagined possible. When I looked at him, I saw myself. In him, I saw a chance to rewrite my own past, to reshape his future, even though I knew my own outcome was already set. This life had no redemption for my sins. But he could be spared with me by his side.
“Whoa! This place is huge!” His grin stretched ear to ear as he looked around.
I smirked. “Yeah, not bad, huh? You feel that energy? That’s the sound of a city that loves its baseball.” My hand clapped against his back as we stood side by side, taking in the sights before us. “You know, first game I saw was way back in ‘41—Yankees versus Red Sox. Place was so loud, I thought my ears would pop.”
His eyes widened. “Did the Yankees win?”
“Of course, they won,” I said, grinning. “You think DiMaggio would let the Sox walk away with it? Nah. And I wouldn’t bother telling the story if they’d lost.”
We made our way toward a vendor, the smell of peanuts and pretzels thick in the air. I grabbed a Yankees cap and a foam finger, handing them to Antonio.
“Here, put these on. Can’t come to a game without gear—it’s bad luck.”
He didn’t hesitate, sliding the cap onto his head. His excitement was contagious. “Oh, man, this is awesome. Thank you, Joey!”
“There you go.” I nodded, satisfied. “Now you look the part. Let’s get to our seats before we miss the first pitch.”
Antonio and I settled into our seats near the third baseline, surrounded by fans shouting and cheering. I passed him a hot dog and soda as he balanced a bag of peanuts in his lap.
“Alright,” I said, pointing toward the field, “here’s the deal. You see the guy at the plate? That’s Mickey Mantle—our star hitter. They call him the Commerce Comet. He’s got one of the best swings in the league.”
Antonio took a bite of his hot dog, studying Mantle. “He looks pretty calm for having, like, thousands of people staring at him. I think I’d be nervous if it were me out there. How do you think he does it?”
“That’s the game, kid.” I chuckled. “Pressure’s part of it. You stay cool, keep your focus, and deliver when it counts. Kinda like life, ya know?”
Before he could answer, a loud crack split the air as the batter connects with a fastball, sending it deep into the outfield. The crowd leaped to its feet, a wave of cheers erupting all around us.
He jumps up, his eyes wide. “Is it gonna be a home run?”
I stand beside him, tracking the ball. “Nah, looks like a double. But still, that was a helluva hit!”
As the game continued, I explained plays and strategies while Antonio soaked it all in, nodding and asking questions like a kid seeing the world for the first time. During a break between innings, he leaned back in his seat with a huge grin. “This is so much better than watching it on TV.”
“Told ya,” I said, matching his smile. “Baseball’s not just a sport—it’s an experience. You don’t just watch it—you feel it.”
“Did you ever play when you were a kid?” he asked, glancing at me.
I hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “Not as much as I wanted to. Life had other plans for me, ya know?” Other plans. Like climbing the ranks of organized crime before I was old enough to buy a game ticket.
Antonio didn’t pick up on my meaning. Instead, he asked, “You think I could play someday?”
I turned to him, his eager face reminding me of something I couldn’t quite place. I didn’t fully understand why, but the kid felt like the son I’d never had. “Kid, you can do whatever you set your mind to. Let’s start with your school’s team; see where it takes you. I know Coach Artie pretty well.”
His grin stretched wider. “That’d be cool.”
The game’s final inning came down to the wire, the Yankees clinching the win with a walk-off hit. The stadium exploded in celebration, and Antonio was on his feet, shouting alongside the fans.
“Now that’s how you win a game!” I clapped, laughing at his sheer excitement.
“That was amazing!” He turned to me, his eyes shining. “Thanks for bringing me, Joey. This was probably the best day of my life.”
I smiled, a rare feeling of contentment settling over me. I’d always despised the thought of being a family man—settling down, playing house, living by someone else’s rules. It wasn’t for me. But maybe I was wrong. “Anytime, kid. You deserved a day like this.”
We joined the sea of fans streaming out of the stadium, Antonio holding onto his foam finger like a trophy. I rested a hand on his shoulder as we walked, feeling something close to pride as I watched him soaking up the moment. I wasn’t his father. I had no right to think of him like a son. But damn, if it didn’t feel that way lately. The way he looked up at me when I talked, the way he stuck close like he trusted me to keep him safe. It did something to me—something I didn’t have a name for.
By the time we got back to Staten Island, it was late. I pulled into Adriana’s carport, and before I even shut off the engine, Antonio bolted out of the passenger seat, rushing into the house with the energy only a kid could still have after a long day. He was still wearing his Yankees cap, clutching his foam finger like it was a treasure.
“Ma! You should’ve seen it!” he yelled as he burst through the front door. “The Yankees won, and it was the coolest thing ever!”
I followed him in, closing the door behind me. Adriana stood up from the couch, and a warm smile spread across her face. I noticed a pillow and blanket folded neatly on the sofa—a quiet reminder that she was giving Antonio the house’s only bedroom. The sight of it hit me in a way I couldn’t quite explain. I wanted to fix that for her. I wanted to fix everything for her. And I would. I would fix everything for her in time. But right now, we both have to suffer just a little while longer.
“That’s great, Antonio,” she said.
“There was this huge crowd,” he continued, his words spilling out in rapid-fire enthusiasm. “And we had these awesome seats! Joey taught me all this cool stuff about pitching and batting, and—Ma, they hit a walk-off! The whole stadium went wild!”
Adriana glanced at me briefly before focusing on him, her smile never wavering. “Sounds like you two had quite the time.”
“It was the best, Ma! And look!” He tugged at his cap with pride. “Joey got me this!”
Her eyes shifted to me, softening a little. “You didn’t have to do that, Joey.”
I shrugged like it was nothing. “Kid needed some gear. Can’t go to a game lookin’ like a rookie.”
Antonio beamed up at her. “Oh, and Joey said maybe I could try out for the school baseball team!”
Adriana’s eyebrow arched as she turned her gaze back to me. “Did he now?”
I smirked, holding up my hands. “Don’t give me that look. The kid’s got potential. Just needs a little push in the right direction, that’s all.”
Her expression softened again, and she turned back to Antonio. “Well, if that’s what you want, we’ll talk about it.”
“Thanks, Ma!” he said, his grin wide as ever.
I watched the two of them, something warm settling deep in my chest. Antonio’s grin was unstoppable as he ran to his room, his foam finger bouncing in his hand. The sound of his door shutting left the house quieter, and then it was just Adriana and me in the small living room. We hadn’t been alone since I had dropped her off, after she had asked about the duffle bag full of money in the backseat.
She crossed her arms, leaning against the couch as she looked at me. I felt the weight of her gaze, steady, searching like she was trying to figure me out—or perhaps decide if I was worth trusting.
“He hasn’t been this happy in a long time. Thank you for this, Joey. He’s never going to forget it,” she said softly.
I smiled, leaning against the doorframe, letting the weight of her words settle. “Kid’s a good one. Just needs someone to remind him what being a kid’s all about. I’m glad I could do that.”
She crossed her arms tightly, her eyes flickering with hesitation. “I appreciate what you’re doing, Joey. But I don’t want him getting too attached. We’ve been through a lot, and?—”
I raised a hand, cutting her off before she could finish. “Look, I get it. You’re used to doin’ everything on your own. I see it. But you don’t have to—not all the time. I’m just tryin’ to help the kid out. No strings attached.”
Her shoulders sank slightly. I knew she wasn’t ready to let go just yet. “It’s not just about Antonio. I’m trying to protect him. And me. From?—”
I stepped in again, softer this time. “From someone like me?”
“Joey…”
I nodded. “I get it. You’ve got every reason to keep your guard up. But I’m not here to mess anything up for you or Antonio. I just saw a kid who needed a day out, and thought I could give him that. No harm. No hidden agenda.”
For a long moment, silence filled the room. She studied me. I held her gaze, refusing to flinch, letting her see I meant every word I said. She let out a soft sigh and nodded. “Okay. Thank you, Joey.”
“Anytime.” I nodded. I debated bringing up the other day. I let out a sigh. “I’m sorry if I upset you the other day when you asked about the money.”
“No, I overstepped. It’s not my business,” she cut in. “I don’t want to know.”
“All I meant was—" I began to try and explain myself, but she held up her hand, stopping me as she cut in again.
“Please, I don’t want to know.” Her words stopped me. “I didn’t see anything. I don’t know anything. I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t need trouble.”
Our eyes met, the silence stretching between us. I hesitated, my hand hovering over the doorknob, lingering longer than I should have. I forced a small smile and turned away, making myself leave.
She had every right to be cautious. Her life, Antonio’s life, had clearly been through enough. She didn’t need more chaos. And I sure as hell didn’t want to be the person who brought it.
But there was something about that kid, and something about her, that made me stick around longer than I probably should. Antonio had started to remind me of a kid I never got to be—hopeful, full of wonder, still untouched by the darker things in life. And Adriana was strong, no doubt about it, but something about her made me want to be strong for her—I wanted to take the weight off her shoulders and carry it for her.
I wasn’t sure what I was doing here exactly. Perhaps it was just the guilt, trying to make up for all the bad I’d done. Whatever it was, I couldn’t shake the feeling that, for once, I was in the right place—even if I wasn’t sure I deserved to be. Or understood it.