Ivy's Twisted Vine Redux

by Latrivia S. Nelson

  In a quiet hysteria, Nicola wiped the large warm tears from his eyes and tried to hide his moans with his massive hands. He buried his face and sighed feeling his body tremble with pain.

  Interrupting his breakdown or breakthrough, his cell phone rang. Startled, he reached over and grabbed the phone. Ivy. He cleared his throat.

  “Hello.”

  “Nicola?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry to call you so late. I just couldn’t sleep.”

  “It’s okay.” He tried to keep from crying.

  “I just…I wanted to make sure that you were okay. I’ve had the awful feeling in my gut…like something is wrong.”

  “No. I’m okay.” He wiped his eyes. “I was just…um…resting.”

  “Well, I’ll let you go. I just wanted to tell you that I’m here for you. I know that all of this has been extremely hard for you.”

  “I know, baby. Thanks.” He pulled himself together. “How are you and the babies?”

  “We’re fine.”

  “Good. I’m glad.” The phone was silent for a moment.

  “Well, I’d better let you get some rest. I just wanted to call, as promised.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Goodnight, Nicola.”

  “Goodnight, Ivy.”

  And just like that she had saved him. His heart stopped rushing. His thoughts dissolved and he wanted more than anything to be back in Memphis with Ivy. Only Ivy was with Grey. He shook his head in disbelief. Ivy was with Grey. He had to accept that.

  Finally pulling himself out of his pity party, Nicola decided to go down to his father’s bar and have a drink. Pulling the cover from his sweaty body, he stood up naked and stretched his long limbs. Searching in the darkness for his briefs, he pulled them on, wiped his tired face and slipped down the back staircase through the den into to the famous Agosto home bar.

  ***

  It was like something out of a movie. Every since he was a little boy, Nicola adored the family bar. Housing every type of clear and dark liquor that he had ever tasted, the fifteen-foot, eight shelf, wall-to-wall unit was a work of art. An Irish carpenter had custom designed it to replicate a bar his father had frequented in Mexico before he had a fortune. Since before he was of age, Nicola had gone down to the bar, poured himself a hefty helping of spirits and sat in the corner drinking when no one was around. At first it started as a dare from his brother Santo, but as he got older it became a necessity.

  Hitting the lights, the bar lit up and Nicola made his way around it to make a nice stiff drink. Grabbing a cigar out of the humidor under the cabinet, he lit the large Cohiba and took a drag.

  “Ahh,” he said aloud after an exasperated sigh. To smoke a nice cigar, have a good shot of Cognac and release himself was all that he needed to get back on track. Grabbing the remote, he turned on the sixty-inch plasma television across the room, searched for ESPN and sat down on a leather top barstool.

  He took in the strong drink, thankful for its potent contents and relished at the burning sensation it gave down his dry throat. He poured another quickly and took a long drag off his cigar when he noticed waves out in the pool. Downing the second double shot, he walked to the glass doors and flicked on the floodlights.

  “Dad?” He opened the doors to a clear, midnight sky and soft pre-summer breeze.

  “Ciao, Nico,” he father said pulling himself out of the pool.

  “Good evening to you old man,” he said proud that his father was taking an interest in self-preservation at such an old age. “When did you get back?”

  “Just,” he father said grabbing a white terrycloth robe. “I figured that a nice swim would relax me before I went up to your mother. You should have a go at it…it’s heated.”

  “The one thing besides the upgrade in televisions that has changed in this place.” Nicola smiled. “I’ll try it tomorrow, maybe.”

  Walking up to his father in his briefs, Nicola and his only role model stood face-to-face. His father was a large man, standing six feet six inches tall. His build was wide and solid. His tan was perfect with his chiseled features just as he had given his son. He boasted curly silver healthy hair, intense brown almond eyes, naturally arched eyebrows, perfect heart shaped lips and the signature dimples in both cheeks and chin. His skin was still firm and his stance still strong. He was the head of the proud Agosto famiglia. Adamo Agosto.

  “Look at you,” Adamo said reaching out for his son.

  “Hi ya, pop.” Nicola allowed his father to kiss him on both cheeks.

  “It’s good to have you home.” Adamo smiled. “Are you here for long?”

  “Not long enough to wear out my welcome, but long enough to say hello. A few weeks at most.”

  “Good.” His father said in approval. “Let’s go inside, and you can pour your father one of those drinks you were just having.”

  “You saw that, huh?”

  “My boy, in my house, I see everything.”

  **

  The Monday morning sun was hidden behind thick dark clouds rumbling with the fierce sound of angry thunder and great bolts of lightning racing through the skies. Staring out of Grey’s kitchen window, Ivy sipped on a cup of green tea and listened to her fiancé talk to his best man on the phone in the next room. It seemed that Lawrence, Grey’s fraternity brother and old roommate from college would not be able to make it to the wedding. He would be stuck in Okinawa on duty and unable to leave the base. In less than an hour of discussion, Grey had already offered to fly him over, pay for his time off of work and speak with his General, none of which was possible. Finally rejected and disappointed, he hung up the phone and joined Ivy in the kitchen.

  “With the date change, he can’t make it,” he said opening the refrigerator and looking blankly into the box.

  “I heard.” Seeing his sudden mood change, she walked over, wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his back. “It’ll be okay.”

  “This is getting to be such a hassle.” He finally closed the refrigerator door and turned around to look at Ivy glowing as usual with morning glory. “I’m just ready to get this over with.” He hugged her gently feeling the babies kicking in her stomach.

  “Well, I’m ready to get these grown men out of me.” She pulled away and pulled up her shirt. “Look, you can see one of them moving around.”

  Grey bent down and looked marveling at the miracle of life. “Ain’t that something?” For a moment Nicola crossed his mind, and he again wondered if the children Ivy were carrying were actually his. “Don’t you want to crawl back in the bed and watch the idiotic underprivileged tell the entire world who they’ve slept with. I’m still in my flannel.” He tried to shake off his early morning melancholy. After all, Nicola was gone away and everything seemed to be back to normal. Plus, he had been the one with Ivy when they found out the sex of the twins.

  “I thought you had to go to work?”

  “Nope. I’m yours all day.” Sliding his fingers over the phone, he turned off the ringer.

  “Good.” A weak smile appeared. “I am sort of tired still. I didn’t sleep much at all last night. We can watch Jerry Springer, order pizza from Papa John’s and sleep in.” She loved the time that they spent together alone from the world, because it was then that she saw Grey’s true good nature.

  “Pizza this early in the morning?”

  “It’s 10:30. They’re open.” Walking out of the kitchen, she led Grey behind her up the stairs to the bedroom. “Come on, old man. Let me have my way for a while.”

  “When have you ever stopped getting your way?”

  Nicola had been gone nearly a week and slowly Ivy was able to redirect her attention to her reunited family, her wedding and most of all herself. Although late nights were spent thinking about how he must be doing, days were spent picking out last minute decorations for the wedding, talking with the caterer and sending out invitations. With less than three months to go before she was Mrs. Ivy Henderson, there were so many plan
s to finalize along with finishing school.

  Being at home with Grey the entire week had been a relief. They had not argued once and on the occasion Grey would do something special like bring home her favorite movie and cook dinner or whisper something special in her ear. Just the night before, he washed her hair and gave her a warm milk bath filled with red rose petals. Then he gave her a full body massage, which instantly put her to sleep.

  Even as willing as Grey was to please her during her pregnancy, he was still ever distant sexually. They hadn’t been together in over a month, and he had given no indication that that he would touch her anytime soon. When they discussed his issues, he always said that he didn’t want to hurt her, but Ivy knew that he was not attracted to her the way he used to be. And it hurt her deep inside. Nevertheless, Grey still confessed his undying love for her and swore that he was always faithful. This reassurance pacified her for the moment, and she was left to cope with being alone.

  Chapter Twenty-One:

  I Miss You

  Chapter 21

  I Miss You

  Sitting on the dock with his white linen pants rolled up, his white shirt off and his feet kicking in the warm water, Nicola allowed the sun to beat down on his body giving him a soft tan. His eyes were fixed on the small fish that swam past him, but his mind was fixed on Ivy and the indelibly defined image of her graceful body stretched out across his bed laughing infectiously as he kissed her all over.

  He had awakened nearly an hour before sunrise and driven down to see his father’s new yacht, only to discover that it was not at the dock. Wasting away time, he sat down to test the water with his feet as he did as child and couldn’t seem to get up for nearly four hours except to walk back down the gravel road to his father’s car to retrieve a six pack of beer out of the cooler in the trunk.

  Several minutes later, he noticed his father’s yacht docking and a couple locked hand-in-hand headed his way. He stood up and dusted himself off.

  “Santo is that you?” Nicola said taking off his shades.

  “Who else would it be?” the young man asked hugging his only brother.

  “How are you Santo?” Nicola never looked at the woman who stood attentively awaiting some type of greeting.

  “Fine, how are you?” Santo’s eyes met his brothers for a moment before he returned his attention to the woman. “Arin, aren’t you going to say hello to Nico?”

  “Yes,” Arin said extending her hand. “How are you, Nicola?” Her blue eyes sparkled and yet twitched with nervousness at the sight of her old boyfriend.

  “Fine.” Nicola shook Arin’s hand lightly and pulled away putting

  his fists in his pockets. “I was just wondering where Pop’s floating home was. I was going to take a look at it.”

  “It’s all yours,” Santo instantly sensed the old grudge resurfacing and stepped a few steps back to give Nicola breathing room.

  “Well, I’ve got to run.” Arin pulled a strand of her long blonde hair out of her face and smiled at Santo. “I’ll be home later.”

  “Yeah, Hun.” Santo pecked her on her freckled cheek before she walked away waving shyly at Nicola, who looked away pretending he did not see her.

  After nearly seven years, Nicola still could not understand how his twin brother could marry his high school sweetheart. It seemed that in his quest to return back to Miami a better man, he had lost touch with what was going on at home in his own backyard. While away at Memphis State University one afternoon before football practice, he checked his mailbox and discovered a letter from his brother saying that he was getting married. Excitement over took him, he was proud that Santo had found someone to spend his life with. It was only after he realized that the someone was Arin that the room started to spin that he found himself sitting on the floor tearing the letter to shreds.

  The next spring before graduation, Nicola signed up for the Memphis Police Academy. Six months later after graduation, he was a cop and two months after that Arin was his sister-in-law. Needless to say that he didn’t make it to the wedding nor did he call. Instead, he sent a small black card in response to his brother that simply said, “et tu Brute.”

  Now face-to-face with his Roman politician and the knife still buried deeply in his back, the situation didn’t seem so crucial anymore. He still had resentment towards both of them, equally, but his mind was on larger issues. Ivy. The twins. Brooks.

  Looking at his brother, Nicola confirmed his quiet suspicions that the babies absolutely had to be his. He was carrying the dominant trait for twins. He was a twin. Brooks had known the entire time but had kept his secret at his request. And now it was too late in the game to tell Ivy.

  “You still hate me, brother?” Santo squinted in the sun. He had to ask in hopes that years of separation had brought his other half some resolve.

  “Not hardly.” Nicola turned away from his brother and looked at the boat.

  “I still hate you.” Santo said looking at Nicola’s even dark tan.

  “Get over it.” Nicola looked across the dock at the water.

  “I’m kidding, man.” Santo hit Nicola on the back. “No, really, I just…miss you. You don’t call. You don’t write. You don’t email. It’s been six long years since I’ve even heard your voice or seen your face.”

  “I know. Deep wounds don’t heal quickly.”

  “Especially wounds as deep as the ones that I’ve caused you.” Santo still carried guilt in his heart.

  “Well, life has opened to my eyes to this thing called forgiveness. And if I can possibly have forgiveness for all the shit that I’ve done, I can’t deny you the same.” Nicola put his hand on Santo’s shoulder.

  “You don’t know how much that means to me, Nico.”

  “The last time we spoke…even after all this time, I can’t believe that I said those things to you. A lot has been going on in my life, but I’ve thought about you and the family often.” He was sure that his brother knew everything leaving him no reason to elaborate.

  “Yeah, well I’m sorry, too.” Santo looked out across the water as well, avoiding eye contact. “I never wanted to lose my only brother. And I’m sorry about what happened to your partner. I’m sure he was a good man.”

  “I appreciate it.” Nicola took his eyes off the boat for a moment and looked at Santo. “So, I’ve got to ask. Why haven’t you and Arin had some little crumb snatchers?”

  “She…we…hell, I’m sure Mom told you.”

  Nicola became curious. “Told me what?”

  “Arin can’t have kids.” Santo’s eyes met the ground. “We’ve been trying for five years now. Nothing, still.”

  “Wow,” Nicola shook his head.

  Suddenly the envy that Nicola had felt in his heart for many years instantly vanished. His brother, who he always thought looked younger than him, now stood before him with age on his shoulders. He no longer looked like the youthful, arrogant yet intelligent sibling that he used to know. All of his features were still sculpted and molded like a Greek god, his hair as black as coal, his body well defined and upright and his demeanor as distinguished as all Agosto men in his family, but Nicola could see a couple of gray hairs as the sun flickered off Santo’s head.

  His eyes had small bags under them. And his demeanor was no longer as dominant and overbearing, as it was when they were young men. Now Santo was mellow and humble and for a moment Nicola felt sorry for him. To the average outsider they would never detect the deterioration of Santo’s ambition and boyish luster, but to Nicola was it was obvious as the sun on a clear day.

  “I’m sorry, Santo. I really am.” Nicola placed his arm on his brother’s shoulder. That kind of news was never easy to give or to receive.

  “Thanks.” Hugging him, he felt tears welding at the sides of his eyes and pulled away. It was good to have his brother home. “How long do you plan to be here?”

  “I’ve been here nearly a week. So, I’d say a few more days and then, I have to get back. I need to get back to work.”
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  “I’d be busting my ass to get out of that place after the showdown you had. You are definitely a man on a mission.” Santo smiled with confidence.

  “Well, there’s a lot of work still left, and I owe it to myself an Brooks to see it done,” Nicola said sighing. “Man, I forgot how beautiful this place was. It’s so peaceful.”

  “Well, you want to get reacquainted? We could go and grab a beer at this great little place over in the art deco district and then who knows. The women will eat us up. Two hot looking twin Italian brothers with money at our disposal. You could very well be my ticket to a little fun this week.” Santo said looking at his watch.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Jumping in the silver, drop top Mercedes Benz, the twins were off in the afternoon sun. Driving through the streets of Miami Beach, smoking Cohiba cigars and blaring Afro-Cuban Jazz, Nicola and Santo enjoyed each other’s company for the first time in years.

  In a small café across town with old green linoleum floors, small suspended ceiling fans and a vintage juke box playing salsa music packed with Miami natives, Nicola and Santo sat in dark corner booth enjoying classic mojitos and filling each other in on the gaps of their lives they had missed.

  Taking a small bowl of chips from the waitress, Nicola sprinkled more salt over his food. “She’s an amazing girl though,” Nicola said laughing referring to Ivy.

  “Sounds like it.” Santo took out his cell phone and looked through his missed calls.

  “So, how do you like being the CFO of Agosto Corporation?” The thought readily came to Nicola that he could be doing something else with his life with a MBA besides playing cops and robbers.

  “I feel like jumping out of a window most days. Pop is always so uptight and political about his money. Don’t fool with him, he’s an uptight Republican. Don’t fool with him, he’s a fake Democrat. Don’t venture with them, they’re not backed by our people. Don’t spend our money there, they don’t accept MasterCard.” Santo laughed. “He’s a hell of man to work for. I have envied you a many day.”