60. ADRIANA
ADRIANA
E very day without Joey felt like a slow, suffocating torture. I’d turn the TV on, and there it was—another update. And of course, they had to throw in that atrocious nickname, The Shark . It made my stomach churn every time.
Flowers arrived daily, from people I barely knew, their sympathy plastered on cards. People could say what they wanted about Joey, but the truth was, he was a loved and respected man. He’d built something in this city that couldn’t be undone, and everyone respected him because of who he was. You’d think the mayor had been shot, for Christ’s sake.
I couldn’t walk out the door without some stranger trying to offer their condolences or stare at me like I was a spectacle. I just wanted to vanish into the background, to keep my family together and find some sort of normalcy again, but how could I?
“Hey, honey,” I said, gently fluffing up Antonio’s hair as I passed by him.
“Hey, Ma,” he mumbled, barely looking up as he nibbled on his toast.
I sat down at the table, my hand reaching to caress his shoulder. “ Listen, I’m going down to the hospital to visit Joey. Do you want to come with me?”
“No,” he replied. “No, I don’t think I can do it. I’m not ready to face him yet.”
I nodded. “I get it, sweetheart. And Joey will understand, too. But I just want you to know he’s doing better. He’s going to get through this and come home. It’ll be like he was never gone. And most importantly, I need you to remember that we’re safe.”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “yeah, we’re safe, Ma.”
“I love you,” I whispered, brushing my fingers along the side of his face, hoping to offer some sort of comfort.
“Love you, too, Ma,” he muttered. It hurt to see Antonio so broken. He barely left his room, barely ate, and hardly spoke.
Walking into the hospital room, I stopped in the doorway, taking in the sight of Joey. He was propped up in bed, wearing a hospital gown instead of his usual crisp suit. It was strange seeing him like this, so vulnerable. Without a suit and a fedora.
“Wow, look at you, sitting up,” I said.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Joey smiled when he saw me. I walked over, leaning down to kiss him, and he mumbled against my lips, “I missed you.”
“We miss you, too,” I whispered back, my heart aching just seeing him like this.
“Where’s my boy?” he asked, glancing past me, as if Antonio would walk in any moment.
“He couldn’t come.” I sighed. “He says he can’t see you like this. He’s been taking it hard.”
“You tell him I’m fine?” Joey asked.
“I didn’t tell him you’re fine,” I replied. “I told him you’re getting better and that you’ll be home soon. ”
“I’m fine,” Joey insisted. “I want them to send me home.”
“Joey, don’t give them a hard time.” I frowned.
“I’ve been trying to tell him all day he’s gotta stay until they say he’s well enough to leave,” Paul finally spoke up from the chair in the corner of the room.
“I’m well enough,” Joey shot back.
“You’re lucky you’re not a vegetable,” Paul retorted as he stood and walked toward the door. “Anyways, I’ll be downstairs drinking coffee. Leave you two alone. Anything you want while I’m down there?”
“Yeah, the discharge papers,” Joey said.
“Joey!” I hissed.
Paul grinned, poking his head back in. “You said extended stay? I’ll see what I can do!” And with that, he left, closing the door behind him.
“You look beautiful,” Joey said softly, gently caressing my face. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine,” I replied, but it didn’t feel true. “I just miss you, that’s all.”
“Well, I’ll be home as soon as I can get out of here.” Joey grinned.
I smirked, rolling my eyes. “I know you will.” I chuckled softly. “You know, I can’t even go to the supermarket now without someone asking how you’re doing. Everyone’s been so worried about you.”
“What about Antonio? What’s going on with him?”
“I don’t know.” I sighed. “He doesn’t leave his room much.”
“If I could get out of here, I’d go talk to him,” Joey said. “Let him know I’m fine. It’s nothing to worry about.”