Chapter 25
25
H arlem, New York 1949
“Debbie? It's Kathy!" Claudia called from the kitchen.
Debbie shot up from bed, nearly tripping in her haste as she ran barefoot down the hall. Her heart pounding, she snatched the receiver from her mother’s hand.
[Debbie gasped, breathless.]
"Kathy? Kathy!"
[Kathy, breathless]
"Heya! It's me. I heard?—"
[Debbie laughed, tears spilling.]
"Kathy! Oh God, I prayed you'd call today!”
The cousins' voices tangled together—laughter, tears, the sheer relief of connection.
[Kathy whispered, urgently]
"You're gettingmarried? ToJosé? Debbie, what in the world is happening?"
Debbie glanced at her father, who sat stiffly at the table pretending to read his paper, and her mother, whose hands moved mechanically over the dishes. Both were listening.
[Debbie deflected.]
"I'm just—I'm so happy you called.”
[Kathy pressed.]
"Aunt Claudia and Uncle Pete there?"
[Debbie mumbled.]
"Mm-hmm."
[Kathy whispered again]
"Debs... are you in trouble? Big Mama thinks you're pregnant. ByJosé? Is it true?"
Silence.
[Kathy let go the breath she held in anticipation.]
"Or... is it Matteo's?"
[Debbie mumbled.]
"Yes," Debbie said.
[Kathy sighed.]
"Oh myGod, Debbie. You're marrying José tohideit?"
[Debbie mumbled again.]
"Yes.”
The operator interrupted, demanding more coins. Kathy fed them in quickly.
[Kathy, anxious.]
"You still there?"
[Debbie whispered.]
"Yes.”
[Kathy shook her head.]
"Does Matteoknow?"
[Debbie mumbled a reply.]
"Yes. It washisidea,"
[Kathy's exhale crackled through the line.]
"Sweet Jesus, Debs... what kind of mess?—"
[Debbie's silent tears dripped onto the receiver.]
[Kathy recovered, taking over the converation.]
"Listen—it's gonna be okay. We'recoming. Big Mama put her foot down with Uncle Pete. We leavesoon. We planning your wedding, and I’ma be there for you. I swear it.”
[Debbiescreamed.]
Kathy grinned through her own tears, hearing Uncle Pete's bark of "What now?" in the background.
[Debbie panted in excitement.]
[Debbie sobbed.]
"Kathy! You'll be here? For thewedding?"
[Kathy smiled as he talked.]
"Yes, cousin. It's us against the world.Always. That’s my baby girl you carrying!”
[Debbie sobbed.]
"I love you—God, I love you so much?—"
[Kathy chuckled.]
“Me too. Gotta go—out of coins.Bye!"
The line died mid-laugh.
Kathy walked out of the phone booth into Ely's waiting arms. He lifted her clean off her feet, her tears soaking his shirt. "She's in trouble, Ely. Bad trouble."
"So it's true. The baby... not José's like they think?” Ely set her down gently. Kathy nodded. "Don't say a word. Please . I shouldn’t have said a thing.”
"I won't. But how the hell ya think they gonna pull this off?" Ely asked. “What is it about you two and those fucking Italians?”
Shocked, Kathy stepped back. “What does that mean?”
“It means Chester loved Debbie. I was his best friend. I know. He had plans to marry her. Last I checked, she loved him, too. Now she’s pregnant from another Italian?” Ely spat with disgust.
Stunned, Kathy couldn’t respond. Ely had never raised his voice. Never cursed. Now, he was sputtering out curse words. And coiled tight with rage. And then suddenly, he registered her, her silence. He looked at her as if he were caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Kathy, I didn’t mean it…”
She turned and started off toward the truck. Her eyes watered with tears. Ely caught up to her and took her hand gently. “Stop, please.”
“Let me tell you something, Ely Theodore Brown, you don’t know anything about real love. About soul-mates. Cause if you did, you’d know that it can come to anyone at any time. I don’t know what made Debbie choose Matteo, but if it’s anything like Carmelo and me, it wasn’t because he’s Italian. That’s the least of it!”
Ely nodded. He had tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Kathy. I meant no disrespect.”
“You meant it. You did! Take me back to Big Mama’s! I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” she started off again. Ely refused to let her go. He grabbed her arm more forcefully.
“You, my best friend, Kathy. Please. Forgive me. Please,” Ely pleaded.
Kathy stopped. She looked up into Ely’s face and saw the pain in his eyes over her rejection of him. In that moment, she understood that pain was shared. All this time, she saw him as a friend. Ely never saw her that way. He saw more. She embraced him. He hugged her so tight. He squeezed her to his heart. “I just wish… I wish things could go back. To when we were kids. When things were simple.”
She rubbed his back. “We different Ely. We want different things. Different people. I’m sorry,” she said. "We'll figure it out in Harlem."
Ely lifted his head. “We family no matter what.”
Kathy smiled and nodded. “When you meet Carmelo, you will understand. He’s different than those others. You will see.”
Ely forced a smile and nodded. She pulled his head down and kissed his brow. “Let’s go home.” Ely opened the truck door. She got in, and he got in.
“We, okay?” he asked but was unable to look over at her.
“Yes, Ely! I’m not some fragile bird. I can handle an argument,” she reached over and took his hand. He looked at her, and she squeezed his hand.
He hesitated before starting the engine. "Took Janey to the station this morning,” he said, and changed the subject.
"Why'd she leave ? She and Big Mama always fight, but they always make up."
Ely's grip tightened on the wheel. "Peeked at her ticket. Wasn't my place, but... you should know."
"Know what ?"
"Her train wasn't headed to California." The engine roared to life. “New York, Kathy. And she booked a white car.”
“They let her?” Kathy's stomach dropped. Janey’s passing was still risky for her going through the southern states. There were laws that said she couldn’t take a “white” train car.
"But— why New York?”
Ely's jaw set. "Only one way to find out." The truck lurched forward, kicking up dust as they sped toward the Jensens'—and whatever chaos awaited in New York.
* * *
The sheriff’s cruiser sat parked in front of Big Mama’s porch like a vulture on a fence post, its dust-covered hood still ticking from the drive over. Kathy’s fingers dug into the truck’s bench seat as Ely slowed to a stop.
"Why’s the sheriff here?" she whispered, though she already knew.
Ely cut the engine, his jaw tight. "Janey. Gotta be ‘bout Janey."
On the porch, Big Mama stood squared off against the sheriff—a white man with a sun-reddened neck and a tin star pinned to his shirt—and another stranger in a tailored suit that screamed city law . The suited man turned first, his gaze slicing through Kathy like a blade.
Lord, he ain’t even blinkin’.
The stranger in Butts stood a full head taller than the sheriff, his lean frame draped in a charcoal suit that cost more than the Jensens' monthly harvest. The cut was sharp enough to draw blood, the fabric whispering of New Orleans tailors and backroom deals. His skin held the golden undertones of Sicilian sunsets—olive-kissed and smooth—with a strong, aristocratic jaw shadowed by precisely-trimmed stubble. Thick, ink-black hair swept back from his forehead in waves, kept in place with pomade that carried a faint citrus scent even across the yard.
But it was his eyes that froze Kathy where she stood.
Dark as espresso and just as intoxicating, they pinned her with a gaze that seemed to peel back layers of skin to read the secrets beneath—the kind of eyes that belonged in a Raphael painting, not on some Louisiana lawman. A faint scar traced his left eyebrow—thin as a cat's claw—giving his otherwise perfect features a dangerous edge.
"That ain't no sheriff," Kathy reconsidered her first thought, her pulse fluttering. "That's a lion in a wool suit."
He moved with the lazy grace of a man who knew violence intimately but preferred not to dirty his cuffs. When he removed his hat in mock courtesy, a silver pinky ring glinted—a crest too worn to identify, but the glint of it screamed old money and older sins.
Big Mama’s spine stayed ramrod straight as the sheriff tipped his hat and lumbered down the steps.
"Ely," he called, thumbs hooked in his belt."Station says you dropped Janey off this mornin’. No ticket was bought under her name. Does she use another? Without a warrant cain’t get the station to confirm the registry. Say where she was headed?"
Ely’s brow furrowed. He glanced at Big Mama, then back at the sheriff."Another name, sir?"
The suited stranger descended next, his polished oxfords crunching gravel."We know her as Caroline Sheffield. Or Margaret Tiller." His voice was smooth as bourbon, but his eyes stayed locked on Kathy. "You heard either?"
Kathy stepped forward before Ely could answer."And you are?"Her voice came out steadier than she felt.
Big Mama’s arms crossed—a silentgo on, then.
The man smirked,“Carmine Bonanno. Law outta New Orleans."His nod was polite, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. " Just need a word with Janey. That’s all. She mention her destination?"
" Yes,"Kathy lied.
Ely stiffened. Big Mama’s gaze sharpened.
"Said she was headin’ back to California,"Kathy continued, lifting her chin. " Came to check on me ‘cause I moved here. Talked ‘bout Paris, too—said she had business there."
Bonanno’s smirk said he knew a tall tale when he heard one."That tracks with our information sheriff.” He replied, continuing to stare directly into Kathy’s eyes. “ I ‘Preciate the help."He situated his hat again, but his stare clung to Kathy as he slid into the cruiser.
Only when the dust settled did Big Mama speak, her voice low and lethal: " Inside. Now."
One inside Big Mama paced.
Ely lingered by the window, his hand clutched the lace curtain. He watched the sheriff’s car vanish down the dirt road. The grandfather clock’s steady tick-tock filled the silence, each beat heavier than the last.
Kathy sat still with her hands in her lap. She could still smell Janey’s perfume on the letter tucked in her pocket—a scent that now felt like betrayal.
Kathy, child,” Big Mama began, “I’m gon’ ask you once.” She took a step forward, floorboards creaking under her sturdy shoes. “And I expect an honest answer. What did Janey write to you in that letter? You ain’t speak on it, and I know you read it.”
Kathy’s eyes lifted up to meet Big Mama’s for only a second before lowering. “I–I told y’all. She said she was goin’ to California,” Kathy stammered, but her voice lacked conviction, and her lower lip quivered.
Big Mama’s brow furrowed, deep lines carving her forehead. She shook her head slowly. “Mm-hmm. And you expect me to swallow that, do you?” Her tone was gentle but carried an undercurrent of disappointment that cut deeper than outright anger. “Kathy, you best not lie to your Big Mama. Not now. Not when your Aunt Janey’s life might depend on us knowin’ the truth.”
Kathy opened her mouth as if to protest, but the words tangled in her throat. The weight of Big Mama’s stare and the lingering memory of Carmine’s cold, desperate eyes bore down on her. A hot tear spilled down her cheek. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice cracking. “I’m so sorry, Big Mama. She gave me recipes.”
Big Mama’s hands flew to her heart like startled birds. Ely lunged, guiding her to the ladder-back chair made for her by one of her dead husbands. A chair where she often nursed her sorrows.
“Is she in trouble, Big Mama? Is she?”
“Hush now,” Big Mama murmured, one hand stroking her heart and the other shooing away Ely. “Let me think.”
Kathy nodded. She waited. She and Ely waited in silence.
“Tell me again. Tell anything she said,” Big Mama sighed.
“She didn’t give me any warning or goodbye. She just left recipes for cakes and candies, using the stuff I’m not allowed to talk about,” Kathy said.
Ely’s eyes met Big Mama’s and then averted away.
“You know somethin’ too?” Big Mama asked.
Ely removed his cap from his head and turned it nervously in his callused hands. The afternoon light slanting through the window sliced across his face, showing the worry in his furrowed brow. “Mama…” he started, then paused. His throat worked as he swallowed. “I do know a bit. But Janey made me promise not to tell.”
Big Mama’s lips pressed into a thin line. Her voice remained calm. “I understand you wanna keep Janey’s trust. Lord knows that child runs on secrets like a train on coal. But this here is different. A strange man came all this way after her and brought the sheriff into it. We can’t help Janey if we’re all in the dark.” Big Mama dropped her head and said a silent prayer before he spoke again. “Go on, tell me now. You tell me what you know, Ely,” she said firmly.
Ely nodded, jaw tightening and then releasing as he made his decision. He shot an apologetic glance at Kathy, then back to Big Mama. “I took her to the station. Had to carry her luggage in. When I got to the window, she was there purchasing her ticket. Had identification. Her name, she said her name was Jane… Bonanno. Like that man that came. Bought a ticket for a ‘white car’. Like a white woman. And the guy at the counter didn’t even blink.”
Ely licked his lips, remembering. The scene was vivid in his mind: Janey at the ticket counter, glancing over her shoulder as if someone might recognize her. The station lights had cast a pale glow on her face, and the brim of her stylish hat cast a shadow over her eyes. She had slid money across the counter and spoken in a low voice to the ticket agent, but Ely still heard her.
“Bonanno?” Big Mama whispered, as if she couldn’t believe her ears.
“That’s the name, Big Mama,” Ely replied quietly. “Jane Bonanno. She spelled it out for the ticket man. B-O-N-A-N-N-O. I remember because I thought it strange… didn’t sound right hearin’ her call herself that. I… I only realized later why.” He hesitated, then added, “Same as his.”
Kathy’s hands flew to her mouth again. Her eyes were wide as moons. She breathed. “Dear God… Does that mean…?”
“It can only mean one thing,” Big Mamma said, barely above a whisper. “Janey… Janey must’ve married that man.”
Bonanno. The name clung to the walls like smoke. Kathy’s mind raced—Carmelo’s stories of Sicilian mobsters were always centered in Sicily and New York. He never once mentioned Sicilians or Italians in New Orleans. Janey’s laughter as she’d once joked, “Love’s a bullet, baby, for the dumb.. Better pray it don’t hit you ‘cause it’ll make you stupid.”
Big Mama sank back into her chair, the wood creaking under her weight. “She married him,” she muttered, more to herself than them. “That fool girl married a Sicilian and told him the truth.”
“But it’s illegal ,” Kathy choked out, though the words felt hollow. She thought of Carmelo’s plans and how hollow they became because of their limited options.
“In New Orleans, color’s a currency.” Big Mama’s laugh was bitter. “Janey’s light enough to pass. Everybody mixes up in New York - Italians, Sicilians, and even island boys like Debbie's got. But down south? New Orleans belongs to the Sicilians. Those men run the Quarter like kings, and they play by different rules. They'll take a light-skinned gal who can pass, marry a quadroon if she's got the right connections. Janey... Lord help her, she slipped into that world I think two of the Elliot girls, cain’t remember their names, disappeared into it. What shocks me isn't that she married one of them - it's that she left him breathing to come looking for her. That man—Bonanno—don’t seem the least bit afraid of her. Why?”
“Why is any man afriad Aunt Janey?” Kathy asked.
“Is you payin attention, Kathy? That reciepes, those candies. You know your family legacy. Janey is trouble, because she sweet until she not. I tried to excorcise those demons out of her. Sometimes she stay a spell and I let her get in my bed and sleep next to me and cry. Then she in the wind again. I had hoped that with you here Kathy, she’d be still. Brenda and I both.”
Ely’s jaw flexed. “He’ll come back. That lawman ain’t the type to quit.”
Big Mama scoffed. “My guess is he aint no lawman. Sheriff Hanes is as dumb as a sack of potatoes.” She reached for Kathy’s hand, her palm rough but warm. “We bury this secret deep. For Janey’s sake. For ours .”
Kathy nodded, the weight of the unspoken pressing down: Bonanno wasn’t just a name. It was a grenade.
Outside, cicadas hummed, their song swelling into a warning.