Back to Brooklyn

by Lawrence Kelter

  “A real dump, huh? But you look good.” They kissed again.

  “Do you mind if we sit down?” Lisa asked. “I’m friggin’ exhausted. I was working on Mrs. Terazini’s hair so long that everyone else went home.”

  “How come?” Mimi said as she dropped her purse and took off her jacket.

  “You know how she’s got that bald spot on the back of her head?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe you never noticed it but her hair has gotten really thin in the back and you can see clear down to her scalp.”

  “I hope nothing like that ever happens to me, old woman problems like that.” She whispered, “I heard that when some women get really old they stop self-lubricating.” Mimi pretended to retch. “Could you imagine anything worse than a dried-out coochie?”

  “Don’t worry—with all the traffic your coochie gets, you’ll wear out your internal parts long before anything dries up down there. Why are you whispering anyway? You think Gloria’s got some state-of-the-art surveillance system?”

  Mimi blinked but offered no response.

  “But anyway, I’m teasing and teasing and spraying and spraying, but no matter how hard I work at it, she complains every time I hold up the mirror to show her the back of her head. I swear I must’ve used up three big cans of hairspray on her. I teased her hair so high and so thick that a plummeting meteor couldn’t penetrate it.” She sighed and fell backwards into an empty chair.

  “I’m so glad to see you, Lisa. I got news,” she said.

  Lisa’s eyes lit up. “Gettin’ engaged to Mickey?”

  “No. Something even more wonderful.” She had an impish smile on her face.

  “Like what?”

  She rubbed her belly in a circular motion.

  Lisa flew out of her chair. “Are you friggin’ kidding?” That’s wonderful,” she screeched as she hugged her friend again. “When are you due?”

  “September.”

  “I just can’t believe it, you and Mickey having a baby. Jesus, you’re not even showing. I guess you’re planning to get engaged,” Lisa rambled. “I’m gonna throw you the best baby shower of all times. Who’s gonna be the godmother?”

  Mimi cleared her throat interrupting her and turned away casting her gaze at the ceiling. “Um…it’s not Mickey’s,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Yeah. He’s not the father.”

  “No? Well who the fuck is?”

  “Ralph.”

  “Ralph? Ralph who? I don’t know nobody named Ralph.”

  “Oh, Lisa, he’s a dreamboat,” she blustered. “And a lover…Marone a mia. He makes me scream like I’m flying down the rollercoaster at Six Flags.” Her eyes rolled up. “He grabs me by the thighs and just slams the ever loving…”

  Lisa raised her hand. “Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. That’s way too much information. Why don’t you just show me a porno while you’re at it?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Okay. You know what? I get it. I really do. You met some hunk and got swept away in the moment. But what about using birth control? You never heard of the pill?”

  “Yeah, I tried them a couple of times but they make me kind of crazy. I gained weight and had headaches…they weren’t too good for my complexion neither. I got zits bigger than Rudolph’s red nose.”

  “Oh yeah? Those headaches any worse than the one coming down the road?”

  Mimi gazed at her blankly.

  “How about a condom? Those make you crazy too?”

  She stared at Lisa with a sheepish expression. “I guess he didn’t have any.”

  “What’d you use?”

  “Rhythm?”

  “Rhythm?” Lisa was aghast.

  “So you let a guy you hardly know have sex with you without using protection? What’s wrong with you? You were so in the moment you just figured, ‘Hmmm. Let him stick it in and I’ll worry about it later?’ Why didn’t you use the morning-after pill?”

  “I never understood how you could take something after you did it.” She scrunched her brow. “That’s a real thing?”

  “Yeah, that’s a real thing. It’s been around for years.”

  Silence.

  “What about Mickey? Does he know?”

  “Uh-uh.”

  “What? You didn’t tell him?”

  “No fuckin’ way.”

  “You’re gonna dump him after all the time you’ve been together? Just like that?”

  “Lisa, you know how sometimes you buy a pair of shoes because you just gotta have ’em but they hurt like hell and it gets to the point where you just can’t look at them no more?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, Mickey was kind of like that, only he didn’t come with a ten-day money-back return policy.”

  Lisa put her hands against her cheeks. “You know what? I need a strong drink.”

  “Yeah. Now that you mention it, I could go for a cocktail myself.”

  “What?”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Moron, you’re pregnant. You can’t have no alcohol. It’ll mess up the baby.”

  “That’s a thing, too?”

  “Mimi, what are you doing? Just how bad do you want to screw up your life? How well do you know this guy, Ralph? Does he have a good job? Is he gonna take care of you and the baby?”

  She sniffled. “I don’t know. He don’t call me back no more. Don’t judge me, Lisa. I’m not like you. I don’t have a guy who adores me. I ain’t got a Vinny.”

  “Adores me?” Lisa snorted. “If he adores me, he sure don’t show it. Don’t get me wrong—I know he loves me but does he ever show it? Not ever. I don’t ever get cards or flowers. He don’t even tell me he loves me. Adore me? Yeah. Don’t get me started on that either.”

  “So why don’t you dump him? You’re still super hot, Lisa. You’re pretty as hell and your legs and ass are like a teenager’s. So why don’t you…”

  “Because, lamebrain, I love him. We’ve been together more than ten years and I ain’t nearly ready to throw all that away, only…”

  “Only what?”

  “Only the man doesn’t have one romantic bone in his body. He don’t know how to express his feelings.”

  “Maybe you got to seduce him. You know, turn up the hem of your skirt a little. Stop wearing panties. Maybe even have sex with him in a public restroom.”

  “You’re some piece of work. It ain’t about making love. Vinny’s got plenty of sex drive, only…well I just told you. I don’t know what else to say about it. Sometimes he makes me want to scream.”

  “So what are you going to do about it, Lisa?”

  “I don’t know, Mimi. I ain’t thought past having a double bourbon. And as for you, I’d do some heavy soul searching if I were you.”

  “But I want to have this baby.”

  “Are you ready to raise a kid on your own? Have you told Rebecca?”

  “No.”

  “What about Carmen?”

  “Your sister? No fucking way. She frightens me to death. No, just you.”

  “Let’s get them on the phone right now. I’m gonna convene a tribunal.

  Mimi’s jaw dropped. “Lisa, please,” she begged. “Not the tribunal.”

  “Yes, the tribunal. You’re out of control. If you won’t listen to me, maybe you’ll listen to them.”

  Chapter Forty-Six: Tough Love

  Vinny had his head in the pantry scrounging around for something to eat when he heard the deadbolt turn on the front door. “That you, Lisa?” he called as he walked out of the kitchen. “There ain’t a thing to eat in here. Not so much as a morsel.”

  Lisa shuddered as she walked through the door. “Holy shit. It’s freakin’ cold out there.” She wrinkled her forehead. “And what do you mean there’s nothing to eat? Ma just did a huge shopping for us.”

  “That’s all fresh stuff that needs to be cooked.”

  “You’re forty years old. You couldn’t cook something for yourself? You’re capable, right? Or were you just plann
ing on going on a hunger strike?”

  “Funny, Lisa. Real funny. Where you been anyway?” he asked holding the door open for her. “I’m starving.” He attempted to close the door but a hand reached out and stopped it from closing. He seemed confused to see Lisa’s friend Rebecca entering. “Oh…hi,” he said greeting her.

  “Hi, yourself,” Rebecca said uncoiling her scarf.

  He once again attempted to close the door.

  “Uh-uh, Vin. Don’t close the door,” Rebecca said. “Mimi and Carmen are right behind me.”

  “You gotta be kidding me,” he said. “A fuckin’ tribunal?”

  “Yeah. A fuckin’ tribunal. The girls have the room. You gotta go.”

  “I gotta go?” he complained. “It’s freezing out. I thought we’d stay in and you’d cook dinner.”

  “I guess you thought wrong.”

  “Okay, you ain’t gotta cook. I’ll just have some coffee and a thick buttered slice of that gain-a-ton bread.”

  “Gain-a-ton?”

  “Yeah. Ain’t that what you call it?”

  “You mean panettone bread?”

  “Yeah, the sweet bread with the dried fruit in it. Can’t I stay?”

  “No way. How are we gonna talk openly with you snooping around?” She pulled his jacket off the coatrack and stuffed into his arms. “Now get the hell out of here. It’s an emergency meeting.”

  Mimi walked in, puckered up, and blew him a provocative kiss. “How you doing, Svengali?”

  He turned to Lisa in puzzlement.

  She shrugged, sidestepping his inquiry.

  “So I got news for you,” he said.

  “I ain’t got time. Can’t you tell me later?”

  “But this is good news.”

  “Oh yeah. What’s the good news, Vinny—twenty words or less.”

  “The insurance company settled on Angie’s case.”

  “Really? That was fast.”

  “I guess they figured they was outgunned.”

  “Yeah, of course. That’s like the United States being outgunned by Luxembourg.”

  “They offered ten grand and Angie accepted. We get thirty percent.”

  “Three grand? Vinny, that’s really great.” She gave him a kiss. “Now get your butt out of here. We got important work to do.”

  “Jesus. What kind of emergency is this anyway? Did something of earth-shattering proportions take place? Has some revolutionary new shade of lipstick just been released?”

  Lisa playfully flipped him off.

  “All right,” he moaned. “I guess I’ll go over to Luigi’s and grab a slice.”

  “Grab two. You just made three grand. You can afford it. And don’t come back before ten.” She shoved him out the door and flung it closed behind him. “Quick,” she said as she turned toward the girls. “Someone get on the phone with Ping’s and order takeout. I’m friggin’ starving.”

  ***

  Rebecca had a bottle of wine in her grasp and was struggling with the corkscrew. “Here,” she said as she handed the bottle and corkscrew to Lisa. “I’m all thumbs. You’re the one who’s good with tools and shit.”

  Carmen hung up the telephone and sat down next to Lisa. “The Chinese food will be twenty minutes and they’re throwing in free cheese wontons. What are we doing here anyway?”

  Lisa turned toward Mimi. “You wanna tell them or should I?”

  Mimi cracked her gum. “No way. You tell them. I don’t want to be here in the first place.”

  “Well, is someone going to tell us?” Rebecca barked. “I’m missing my favorite TV shows for this.”

  “All right. I’ll do it,” Lisa said turning to the others. “Mimi’s got a bun in the oven and it ain’t from the Pillsbury Dough Boy.”

  “Oh my God,” Rebecca said. “You and Mickey—that’s so great. You set a date to get married?”

  “No,” Lisa snapped.

  “No what?” Rebecca asked. “No date?”

  “No. Not no date,” Lisa said. “No Mickey.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Carmen asked.

  “She’s saying Mimi got knocked up by someone else,” Rebecca said as she stood up. “Lisa, you got anything stronger than wine? I figured we were here to discuss someone’s bad dental hygiene or something. I wasn’t prepared for all this. I need a real drink, not just some prissy bottle of wine.”

  “Yeah,” Lisa said as she pointed toward the dining room. “I think we got some booze in the bottom cabinet. Bring three glasses. We’re all gonna need it…except for Mimi that is.”

  ***

  Rebecca had already pounded down a couple of shots of tequila by the time the food arrived. She over-tipped the delivery boy because she thought he was cute, but the other girls said it was just the hooch talking and that he looked like a skinny version of Kim Jong-un with a big square face and a rice bowl haircut. She returned from the front door on wobbly legs and set the food on the coffee table.

  Mimi reached into the bag and pulled out a bag of spring rolls. “Look how tiny these egg rolls are,” she whined. “They’re not big enough to fill—”

  Carmen snorted. “Your vagina?”

  “No, a cavity. A fuckin’ cavity,” she said. “Ain’t that how the saying goes?”

  “What’s the matter?” Carmen asked. “They ain’t big enough to be keepers?”

  “What do you mean, keepers?” Mimi asked.

  Lisa answered, “Like in fishing, you dope—when you gotta throw back the small ones. Anyway, they’re not egg rolls. They’re spring rolls and they’re supposed to be that size.”

  “So what’s that got to do with fish?” Mimi asked, still confused. “I hate fish. They’re all slimy and shit.”

  “It’s a metaphor,” Lisa said. “Don’t you get it?”

  Mimi shrugged. “What’s a metaphor?”

  Lisa rolled her eyes. “It’s a comparison. Carmen is comparing the size of a spring roll to the size of a man’s penis.”

  “I ain’t like that,” Mimi huffed. “I ain’t never kicked no one out of bed for having a small dick.”

  “Believe me, we know,” Lisa said. “That’s why we’re here. And now you got pregnant with a guy you hardly know. Couldn’t you have made him use a condom, Meems?”

  “I ran out,” she said sheepishly.

  “Jesus,” Carmen said. “I know you go through a lot of them but it ain’t like they’re being rationed by the government or something. You can get all you want at any corner drugstore.”

  “Ain’t it the man’s responsibility?” Mimi asked.

  “Yeah, right,” Lisa said. “You know what the man’s responsibility is? It’s getting all the tail he possibly can. You think this Ralph character was worried about gettin’ you pregnant? The only thing he was worried about was how fast he could have sex with you.”

  “What makes you such an expert, Lisa?” Mimi said. “It ain’t like you and Vinny got the perfect relationship.”

  Rebecca and Carmen’s mouths dropped.

  Lisa jumped to her feet, staring down at Mimi, her finger pointed accusatorily. “How dare you bring that up. I told you that in confidence because you were jealous that you didn’t have what Vinny and me had and I wanted to make you feel better about yourself. We’re here to help you, you little empty-headed jerk. Why, I ought to go into the garage, get a roll of duct tape, and tape your knees together. That would fix your problem once and for all.”

  “Sorry, Lisa,” Mimi said. “It’s just that everyone was getting on me and…”

  “Just forget it,” Lisa snapped with a flick of her wrist. “So what are you gonna do about the baby, Mimi? You got any idea what it’s like to bring up a kid on your own?”

  “No, I gotta think.”

  “Well you better think fast,” Lisa said, “Before it’s too late to do something about it.” When she turned to sit down she saw Rebecca and Carmen staring at her. “Okay. What?”

  “What’s with you and Vinny?” Rebecca asked. “There troub
le in paradise?”

  “No…well, yeah. A little bit,” she said. “Vinny ain’t romantic. He’s got no idea how to treat a woman, and he thinks he’s doing just fine. He just don’t get it.”

  “I told her she ought to wear her skirts shorter,” Mimi said.

  They rolled their eyes in unison, ignored her, and went back to their conversation.

  Carmen grabbed Lisa’s hands. “What’s he doing wrong, sweetie?”

  “We don’t have no tender moments. He don’t bring me flowers or send me cards. Forget about a romantic, candle-lit dinner. He don’t even tell me he loves me.”

  “He’s just who he is,” Rebecca said. “It’s like he was born with the romance portion of his brain damaged, or maybe it got banged around too much from all the years he spent in the boxing ring. Maybe he took too many jabs to the head.”

  “Yeah. Maybe someone pounded the passion right out of his head,” Carmen said. “I hear that’s a thing now, like all those high school and college football players who got their brains banged in so badly on the football field—now they’re quadriplegics. Some of those poor guys can’t even feed themselves. So I guess you didn’t make out too bad, Lisa.”

  “It ain’t the same thing. You’re either romantic or you ain’t. Vinny ain’t and I got no idea how to make him understand that something is wrong.”

  “Have you told him?” Carmen asked.

  “Yeah. I told him. I tell him all the time.” Lisa frowned. “It just don’t sink in and I don’t know if I can marry someone like that and spend the rest of my life with him.”

  “But you’ve been together so long,” Rebecca said. “You need to make it work.”

  “I keep telling her,” Mimi said. “She needs to start wearing shorter skirts!”

  Chapter Forty-Seven: Just Whisper It in My Ear

  “Yo!” Joe hollered after spotting the postman pushing his cart down the street the next morning. He rumbled down the block to catch up with him. “Thanks for waiting up for me, Dan.” Dan Collier had been delivering mail in the neighborhood for decades. He’d been the postman for as far back as Joe could remember. Barone had only been screwing with him when he suggested he mail himself to Bald Louie, but Joe didn’t have anything else to go on and figured it was worth the shot.