Chapter 24
24
I opened the car door and took off running for the boathouse. “Enzo!” I yelled as I crossed the threshold into the cool, dark space. Stopping just inside the door, I was relieved to see him standing there, unharmed. His back was to me, and both his hands were in the air near his shoulders. Neither hand held the pistol.
“Tiny, go back outside please.”
I barely heard the words over the galloping of my heart, which felt like someone’s fist trying to punch through my ribs. I looked around, confused. The voice was deep and familiar, but it wasn’t Enzo’s. Inching forward, I scanned the shadows and saw Joey standing next to a large trunk, pointing a gun at Enzo. “Joey?”
“I said, go back outside.” He kept his eyes and his weapon on Enzo.
“No! What are you doing?” I tried walking toward him, but immediately someone threw a thick arm around me from behind and pinned my back to his chest—not hard enough to hurt me, but enough to prevent me from moving forward. I tugged at the wrist, to no avail. “Hey!”
“Take her out, Angelo.” Joey’s voice was colder than I’d ever heard it, which must have been why I hadn’t recognized it right away.
“Hold on, just wait a second.” I struggled to free myself from Angelo’s hairy left arm. Like Enzo and Joey, he wore no coat and his cuffs were rolled. His right arm extended toward Enzo, gun aimed. “What is this?”
“It’s a meeting,” said Angelo. “Thanks for setting it up.”
“What do you mean, setting it up? I didn’t do this!” I panicked, imagining Enzo would think I’d sent him into a trap.
“I figured you’d tell him.” Joey’s voice was devoid of any emotion, but I felt the sting of his words as if he’d slapped me. “And I had a feeling it might be tonight.”
“Joey, please,” I began.
“Get her out of here,” he said.
“Why?” Enzo asked. “If all you want to do is make a deal, why not let her stay? She’s hardly going to run away in her nightgown.”
Oh God—I’d forgotten I was in my nightgown, and barefoot. Jesus, what Joey must think! And Angelo— my face burned with shame that a strange man held me so close in my pajamas. Frantically, I wondered why Enzo wanted me to stay. Did he think they’d be less likely to shoot him if I was in the boathouse?
Or did he want me where he could see me?
This was a huge problem with us—we were never sure whose side the other was on. My hands shook, and I tightened them into fists to keep them still. “Let me stay.” I forced myself to sound defiant, not defenseless. “I won’t be any trouble. I was trying to do as you asked and set up a meeting, Joey, but he insisted on seeing for himself if the drugs were here.”
“Of course he did.” Joey never took his eyes from Enzo. “He probably wouldn’t have met with me otherwise.”
“You’re right. I wouldn’t have.” Enzo sounded way too self-righteous for someone with two guns pointed at him. Silently I pleaded with him to show some humility. “You fucked up a huge deal for me. ”
“Tough luck, I guess,” Joey said.
Angelo spit on the boathouse floor, and my stomach turned over at the splat. “You ready to talk business or you want to cry about the past?”
I braced myself for an angry reaction from Enzo, but he stayed calm as he regarded Angelo. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Shut your mouth,” Joey ordered. “We came to make a deal. You interested?”
“Can I put my arms down?”
“Be my guest. But stay the fuck where you are.”
Enzo lowered his arms. “What’s the deal you’re offering?”
“You have a buyer lined up for this?” Joey jerked his head toward the trunk next to him. It was large and rectangular, the kind people packed for a long voyage on a steamer ship.
“I might.”
“We make the sale together,” Joey said. “I’ll deliver the product.”
“And what do I get out of this deal?”
“A cut of the profit.”
“What kind of cut?”
“I think thirty percent’s fair.”
“I think you’re fucking crazy.”
“I could just kill you, you know.”
A high-pitched sound escaped my throat. Neither Enzo nor Joey looked at me.
“Killing me won’t get you what you want.”
Joey shrugged. “But it might be fun.”
“Please, stop,” I begged. Angelo tightened his grip on me, and I whimpered in protest.
“Let her go,” Joey said.
“Hunh?” Angelo was as surprised as I was.
“You heard me. Let her go.”
The arm around my chest didn’t loosen. “What the fuck, Lupo?”
“Just do it. ”
After a moment’s hesitation, Angelo released me and moved closer to Enzo, bringing his other hand to the gun.
“Tiny, bring me the pistol on the ground.” Joey’s voice was cool and steady, and he still didn’t look at me.
I hurried forward, scooping up Enzo’s gun from the cement floor and bringing it to Joey. As he took the gun from my hands, the moonlight shining through the high windows revealed the fury in his eyes.
I remembered a night not long ago when Joey and I had been alone in the boathouse, the night he’d kissed me on the lake, the night a storm raged outside and lightning had illuminated his features as he’d moved toward me in the dark, his voice teasing… My throat squeezed shut.
“So DiFiore, you can either agree to what we’re offering here, which is an even three-way split—more than anyone else would offer, by the fucking way—or you can kiss thousands of dollars goodbye like a goddamn fool.”
Enzo squared his shoulders. “I’m no fool.”
“Then make the deal.”
Unbearable silence followed. Finally he spoke. “How do I know you’ve really got the drugs? Could be anything in that trunk.”
Joey nodded at Angelo, who grabbed Enzo by the upper arm and put the gun under his chin. They were about the same height, but Angelo was meatier, with a thick neck and a beefy chest that bulged inside his shirt. By contrast, Enzo’s frame appeared slender. Angelo led him over to the trunk, which Joey opened. Tentatively, I tiptoed forward and peered inside too.
It was full of tin containers shaped like small bricks with rounded edges, and they were labeled, but I couldn’t read the words in the dark. Joey shut the lid. “Well?”
Enzo studied Joey. “What’s Sam paying you?”
“This is between us. Sam doesn’t know about it, and he’s not gonna find out about it, neither, understand?” Joey raised the gun a little higher .
Enzo’s lips twitched. “Lupo, you have no fucking idea what you’re doing.”
My heart skipped a beat—that was exactly what I was afraid of.
But Joey stood his ground. “Deal or no deal, asshole.”
Enzo stared at Joey for another few seconds, and then he glanced at Angelo. I might as well have been invisible. “Deal.”
To my astonishment, the two shook on it before Angelo marched us out to the Packard at gunpoint. I couldn’t even bring myself to glance back at Joey as we left.
Enzo was silent on the way back to my house, but he wore an eerily calm expression. He switched off the headlamps once he’d turned onto my street, and slowed the Packard to a crawl before pulling into the drive next to my house.
When the motor was silent, he looked at me. “Are you all right?”
“No.”
He smiled, the bastard. “I’d say I was sorry for taking you out tonight, but I’d be lying.”
“You enjoyed this?”
“Well...parts of it. Maybe even most of it.” He brushed a finger over my shoulder, but I leaned away from him.
“You could have been killed, Enzo!”
“Those guys were never going to kill me. They need me.”
“Well, it frightens me, all the guns and threats and posturing. Not to mention the stealing and the lying and the underhanded deals.”
“That’s how it works, Tiny.”
I crossed my arms in a huff.
Enzo smiled again. “Are you angry with me or with yourself?”
“I’m angry with everyone and everything right now. No matter what I do, I can’t get anything right. ”
“Come on, now.” Enzo slipped his fingers up the back of my neck through my hair. When I tried to lean away, he closed his fist, keeping my head where it was and forcing me to look at him. “Everything is going to be perfect, Tiny. You’ll see.”
“How do you figure? Will your thirty percent cut of the opium be enough to pay off Gina’s father?”
His lips tipped up, the smile of an adult tolerating an ignorant child. “Of course not.”
“Well, then—how will everything be perfect? I don’t understand.” He couldn’t mean he was going to steal the drugs—Joey would take them from the boathouse tonight, I was certain, and this time he wouldn’t be foolish enough to trust me with their location.
Instead of explaining, Enzo leaned forward and kissed me lightly on each cheek. “Good night, Tiny.”
“Enzo, I?—”
“Shhh.” He put a finger to my lips. “I’m going to take care of you. I’m going to take care of everything.”
“But—”
“Leave it all to me.”
I pulled his hand away from my mouth. “You can’t hurt Joey. You promised.”
“I won’t have to.” He released me and sat back. “If he’s smart.”
“And you can’t go to Sam the Barber with this information. He’ll kill Joey himself.”
Enzo’s voice took on a new edge. “You’re awfully concerned about Lupo. I’m not sure I like it.”
Be careful. “I’m just trying to prevent people from getting hurt, Enzo.” That was the truth, wasn’t it? I thought it was, but for me the truth was becoming murkier every day. It was nothing I could cling to for safety.
“I see the way he looks at you,” Enzo said icily.
“You’re imagining things. Right now he wants to shoot me. I’m surprised he didn’t. ”
“He’s not going to shoot either one of us. In fact, I think he’s going to negotiate further with me.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because I’ve done a little research on your friend. And I have something he wants. I’m going to offer it to him.” With that he put both hands on the steering wheel. “Now you better go in. I’ll see you soon.”
After shutting the car door as quietly as possible, I snuck back into the house and crept up the stairs, attempting to avoid the ones that creaked.
Wait a minute, what am I doing? Why am I sneaking around like this? It was probably three o’clock in the morning, but what the hell did I care? What’s the worst Daddy would do—throw me out? To hell with it. I walked up the stairs as if it were noontime, actually disappointed that my feet didn’t make more noise on the carpeted steps. How I would have liked to show Daddy he couldn’t police me anymore! I wasn’t his to control—I wasn’t anybody’s.
In the bathroom, I cleaned up a little before climbing back into bed. My body was tired, but my mind wouldn’t rest. I lay on my side, hands tucked under my cheek and knees drawn to my chest. What could Enzo possibly have that Joey wanted? It couldn’t be money.
The whiskey? No, he didn’t really have that yet either.
But I couldn’t think of any other asset Enzo had to offer Joey at this point, so I approached it from the other side.
What did Joey want?
Immediately, my stomach flipped. I curled my toes and squeezed my thighs together, bringing my legs tighter into my chest. Knock that off. Even if Joey had felt something stronger than friendship for you before, which he’d never actually said, your behavior tonight was enough to splinter it.
The hideous weight of what I’d done dropped onto my chest like an anvil and stayed there, pressing the air from my lungs. Tears burned beneath my eyelids. Without Joey’s help last week, I never would have gotten the ten thousand dollars to free Daddy .
And he’d never asked for anything in return. Yet I’d repaid him tonight with duplicity, giving up his secret to Enzo in exchange for my own pleasure, for promises whispered in the dark. The shame of it rained down on me—I gasped for air as if I were suffocating.
Hold on, just hold on , said a voice inside me. You did what you had to do to keep Joey safe, right? Inhaling deeply, I held my breath for a moment and counted to ten before letting it out, slowly. Yes, I did.
Somehow, it didn’t make me feel any better.
Weeping into my pillow, I wondered how I’d ever make things right again between us.
By the time I left my room the following morning, Daddy was up and out of the house. I’d missed nine o’clock Mass, which I felt some guilt about, but instead of dwelling on it, I dressed and took a streetcar down to Mt. Elliott Cemetery, where our mother was buried. Usually the girls and I did this together on Sundays, and when I entered the scrolling gates and saw other families at grave sites, pulling weeds and sprucing up flowers, or even just holding hands as they strolled or sat on a bench in quiet contemplation, a lump formed in my throat.
Swallowing hard, I walked toward the section where our mother rested, keeping my head down. It was sunny but breezy, and I had to hold one hand on my hat, which was wide with an oversized brim. It wasn’t until I was nearly upon her simple Celtic cross that I saw someone already there. I froze, my Sunday dress flapping about my knees in the wind.
Daddy stood, hat in folded hands, feet apart. From the side, I could see his head was bowed, and I had the feeling that his eyes were closed. When I took a step closer, I saw I was right. His lips moved in silent prayer, or perhaps confession or apology—he certainly had any number of things he might have told her in order to unburden himself. I couldn’t even imagine what she’d have said back. Would she forgive him his sins and shortcomings as a father, as a man?
And what about your own?
An ache took hold of my heart, and the lump returned to my throat. What would she say to me if she could speak from beyond the grave? Would she tell me I was selfish to leave home? Would she ask me to think of my sisters first? Or would she agree with me that I’d done enough and it was time to move on with my life?
She’d married young, like Bridget, and had a family almost as quickly. In fact, it was my mother who’d always talked of being a nurse if she’d had the opportunity or the education. She was always so proud of my high marks in school and my determination to go to college. After she died in childbirth with Mary Grace ten years ago, I made up my mind that I’d do as she’d wished she could have.
At the time, I’d had no idea what an uphill climb it would be.
I said a quick prayer for my mother’s soul from where I stood and turned to leave, having no desire whatsoever to converse with my father here. My mother deserved peace in her final resting place, and I wouldn’t disturb it with another argument. Because I hadn’t changed my mind—I still wanted to leave home.
And it wasn’t only that I wanted to be with Enzo, although I’d be lying if I said my newfound sexual freedom wasn’t influencing my decision. But the longer I stayed at home, the more I feared life was passing me by. I couldn’t shake the sense that something was out there for me, and if I didn’t try to find it now, I might lose my chance at it forever. Sure, I was only twenty, but I’d seen plenty of unfinished lives snuffed out too soon.
To stay out of sight, I tugged the hat down further over my eyes and made a beeline for the exit. But when I turned to glance one last time at my mother’s stone, I saw another familiar figure standing over a grave about ten yards off to my left.
His back was to me, but I knew those wide shoulders that tapered to a trim waist. I’d seen that muscular back naked in my kitchen last week, the night I’d treated Joey’s injuries after a fight. Biting my lip, I recalled the way I’d run my hands over his bruised ribs.
He was dressed more in the style I was accustomed to seeing him in—the plain black pants, a cream-colored shirt that even from here I could tell had seen better days, and brown braces cutting into his solid shoulders and making a Y down his back. His head was bare, his dark mop of wayward curls blowing in the breeze, and I figured he was holding his floppy old cap in his hands.
Were his eyes closed? Were his lips moving in silent prayer for his slain father? Was he asking forgiveness of the man who’d taught him about stars and had no doubt hoped for more for his son than the life—and death—he’d had himself? Or was Joey asking for guidance at his father’s feet, the way I sometimes did at my mother’s? In that moment I felt a kinship with Joey that I rarely felt with anyone other than my sisters, and before I knew it, my feet were stepping through the grass in his direction.
I came up beside him, and although I knew he recognized me from the way his back straightened, he said nothing. Perhaps he, too, didn’t want to sully his father’s final resting place with heated words.
But I needed to apologize.
“Hello.” I braved a sideways glance at him.
Silence. I might as well have greeted the statue on my right.
“Joey, I’m sorry.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I wasn’t sure if he meant he didn’t believe my apology was sincere, or he didn’t believe I had the gall to approach him here. Neither interpretation boded well. “Please let me apologize. I never meant to tell Enzo anything last night.”
“Pretty obvious your self-control ain’t what it ought to be.”
Deep breath. “I thought I was doing the right thing. He was threatening to hurt people in order to get his money back, and I was scared for you. He knows who stole that load. ”
Joey shrugged. “So you’re a hero now too—he saved you, you saved me. Well done. You two deserve each other.”
I stepped in front of him so he’d be forced to look at me. “Joey, please. I’m...I’m sorry too about last night on the roof. I wish I?—”
“I told you to forget about that,” he snapped.
“Have you forgotten about it?”
“It was a mistake. One of many I’ve made where you’re concerned.” His glare was more blistering than the sun.
“OK, fine. But I’m worried. I don’t know exactly what Enzo is thinking, but I do know that things aren’t going to go according to your plan.”
“Switching sides already, doll?”
Jesus—I hadn’t thought of it like that. Was I? Had I ever really been on Enzo’s side? Before I could think it through, Joey went on.
“And what the hell do you mean by that, anyway? He shook on that deal.”
A gust of wind threatened to carry off my hat, and I reached up to hold it to my head. “I don’t know anything for certain, but I do know that you shouldn’t underestimate him. When he wants something, he...” I swallowed hard. “He knows how to get it.”
“I bet he does.” He slapped his cap on his head. “You tell him I’ll be in touch. I want this deal done fast so I can get out of this town. Nothing here but bad memories.” With one last look at his father’s stone he stomped away, and I noticed he’d traded his new shoes for his old work boots too.
He exited the gates and got into an old Model T parked on the street. Even the fancy red Buick was gone. A pang of regret squeezed my heart. It was the old, familiar Joey in every way except one—he despised me. And he had every right to. Until that moment I had no idea how much that would matter.
I broke into a run.