by Brick
“What’s the catch?” I asked.
“As of right now, nothing. The old man gave it to me because he knows Leo wants nothing to do with it. Senior Giulio is an old-world-type Italian. Big on family and legacy, but he also knows that nigga Leo got other shit going on and would let the place fall by the wayside.” “So what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to take it. Turn it into something legit.”
“Does that mean . . .”
“Does it mean what?”
“Does that mean you’re going to, you know, go legit in all aspects of life?”
Marcel gazed down at me for a long time. Flickers of emotions danced across his face, then settled.
“I’ll never make you those kinds of promises,” he answered.
I nodded and lay my head back against his chest. We stood that way for a long while. Holding each other and lost in the thoughts of our minds.
* * *
Days after turned into weeks, weeks into months. Marcel and I stayed up under each other. Not in the sense that we were always at home screwing, although we did that a lot. No, see, my father held true to his threat. In mid-February, my boss fired me from my cushy desk job at the firm. All Leo’s friends paid me for services rendered, then told me to vamoose. I got home one day and found that the locks had been changed on the doors of my penthouse. That was all well and good. I’d already looked into purchasing a loft in Midtown. It wasn’t the upscale crib my penthouse was, but it was mine.
I was out of a job, but I didn’t care. Leo had kept good on his promise. After Marcel had gone through the contract and had one of his lawyer friends to look at it, he and Leo signed the deal, and the keys were given to him. It took us until May to get into running the place because the Feds had to finish their investigation. Luckily, no matter how hard they looked, they found nothing. Senior Giulio had kept as much criminal activity from Giulio’s as he could.
Once I saw the passion in the way Marcel went about renovating the place, I wanted to help in any way I could. So I did. Number crunching was my thing. While he took care of other things, I set out to get the finances squared away. Working for crime syndicates had padded my pockets well. The same could be said for Marcel. Between getting bank loans to make the place look legit without having to answer questions on where we got money, we each brought extra money from our bank accounts too.
Mama thought I was nuts to put my money into a business with a man I hadn’t married. I had to remind her that she had been married to Daddy and still couldn’t trust him.
“I like the boy; don’t get me wrong, baby. It’s just that something about him rubs me the wrong way. Like, he’s got secrets. Bad ones,” she told me one day as we spoke on the phone.
She’d already met him and had taken it a whole lot better than Daddy had.
“We all have secrets, Mama,” I said.
I would never tell her that she was right. My baby had secrets . . . lots of them. Just two nights before he had left and hadn’t come back yet. In the last five months since we had been fixing up the bistro, he hadn’t gone a day without being at my place or me at his. It had been a long time since he had disappeared for work. I had started to get used to him being around. Started to think that maybe he had left that old life of his behind. I had worry lines etched in my forehead as I watched the clock. The burner cell he’d given me hadn’t rung. I was in my loft, feeling like shit and wishing my mother would stop talking. Not because she was getting on my nerves but because my head was spinning, and it felt as if I was coming down with the flu. It had been that way for at least three weeks.
“Yes, we do, but Marcel looks troubled a lot. Like he’s seen the devil, had dinner with him, picked his brain, and then came back up here with us normal folk,” Mama said.
“He’s had a hard life. Was homeless for a long time, so I imagine he has seen some things.”
“I guess, baby. I guess. Just be careful.”
“Mama—”
“No, now listen to me. I’m not saying he treats you bad because I can see he doesn’t. I’ve never seen you more alive than now, but I’m saying . . . Sometimes a man can drag his demons with him, and it can cause you grief. He may not even be intending to. Just be careful is all I’m saying. I’ma say a prayer for y’all. Feel like y’all needed it. Especially with your daddy still shitting bricks about who you dating like who you fucking gon’ make his tricky dick ass come. Anyway, let me get off here. Love you, baby, and tell Marcel thank you for my new coffeemaker. Love that there thang. Makes me twelve cups of coffee, it does,” she said, then giggled.
I was about to say I would tell him when the bottom of my stomach felt as if it was about to come up through my mouth. I dropped the phone and ran to the bathroom. With the way I was heaving, you would have thought I was vomiting up my intestines. Instead, green, slimly bile plopped into the toilet. After there was no more bile to come, I dry heaved for what felt like an eternity with nothing coming up. I was so tired that I couldn’t even stand. My head was on the toilet, and I felt as if I was dying.
It didn’t take a genius to realize I was pregnant. Had found that out earlier when I’d taken a home pregnancy test. Between Marcel and me trying to fix the bistro up to his liking and fucking like jackrabbits, condoms had become a thing of the past. Yeah, we did all the necessary shit like getting tested for STDs and HIV. Still, he didn’t suspect I thought I was pregnant. I hadn’t either until I realized I hadn’t had my period for a month.
I had no idea how he would react and was too sick to care at the moment. I didn’t even realize I’d fallen asleep still hugging the toilet.
Chapter Twelve
Marcel
When a man found out he was going to be a dad, a vortex to another world opens up and swallows him whole. I was joking, but it did change the scope of things for a man, and it changed his core as well. When I found out I was going to be a dad, it was when Sabrina was hunched over the toilet. I had come in after finishing a job for Leo. Usually, I try to disappear after every kill but now being committed to Sabrina, I had changed things slightly. Now I cleaned up at the warehouse as typical and tried to find some place to show my face at around town; then I’d go home or to her crib.
That was what I did after cleaning up at the warehouse. Once I made it to her crib and used the key she gave me, I looked around for her, only to find my future wife on the bathroom floor hugging a toilet. The first thing that came to mind was oh shit. I’d never seen her sick on this level before, but it was clear to identify, especially with the dry heaving sounds she was making. I took it upon myself to go into the take-care-of-her mode.
Sweeping her up from the bamboo floor and bringing the small trash can she kept in the bathroom, I walked her to her room, then lay her in bed. Feeling the bed sink with my weight once I sat next to her, I took a cold washcloth to the corner of her mouth to wipe her upchuck away and watched her stir.
“Hey, baby, you got the stomach flu? You don’t look well,” I asked, checking her forehead.
Sabrina lay back with her eyes half-mast, her face contorted at the same time her lips pressed together as if she was trying to hold back the next wave of vomit working in her stomach. I watched her shake her head, her lush hair forming a halo around her face as she tried to speak. That was when she worked her way toward telling me the truth. We had a rule now; no secrets, and she kept with that.
“You’re back,” she said with a groggy voice and a light, tired huff.
Chuckling, I nodded while rubbing her thigh. “Yeah, I am. Was looking for you and found you on the floor hugging your new man, Mr. Toilet. What did you eat that gave you a jacked stomach, baby? You don’t have the shits too, do you? Not sure I can handle that yet.”
“Shut up, Marcel.” Sabrina gave me a feeble smile and weakly slapped my forearm. “I was good all night, but I suddenly became sick.”
“Ah yeah? Damn, well, I know this bomb chicken and dumpling soup recipe that will help you out; just lie back,�
�� I said getting up.
“Baby, I don’t think I can hold that down. It’s not the flu,” she said, sitting up.
“You sure? I’ll get you something to drink then,” I added while pulling off my tank and tossing it in her dirty hamper.
“I’m positive. This is the type of sick that only clears up after nine months,” I heard her say while coming out of my closet with a new tank.
At first, I didn’t catch it, but when I looked her way, she had a light smile on her face that had me pause. “Say what?”
“Ah, I’m pretty sure that I’m pregnant.”
I heard myself chuckle while I stood there frozen with a raised eyebrow. It was like I felt the blood rush from my face at what she said. A baby? Fuck my life. How could we manage that? How could I be a dad, her man, and a killer? How?
From the expression on my face, I was sure she thought I was disappointed, but really, I wasn’t. After being with her all this time, and after not having a family for so long now, creating a new life was actually dope for me. It had me thinking and reflecting on how we’d be with a kid running around both of our places. It also suddenly made me think about my family and the fact that they weren’t here to share in this moment.
That’s when I walked forward and sat down by her, then took her hand. “Wow. You sure?”
Moving her hand, she muttered, “Oh God,” then quickly leaned over and emptied her guts again.
I sat there rubbing her back until she stopped, and I knew that she wasn’t lying. I felt it in my spirit, and I chuckled again.
“I’m sure,” she said once she was done. Her face looked so tragic and sad as she stared at me with a slight concern in her eyes. “Are you mad?”
Mad wasn’t even in the equation, I thought to myself as I replied, “Naw. Why would I be? We both were fucking, and when you don’t use protection, stuff like this goes down. I’m really good about it. Happy, actually, baby, and I’d kiss you, but you got too much going on in the mouth area right now, so a brotha needs to opt out of that and just do that forehead kiss thing.”
I flashed a goofy smile at her as she laughed and tried to hit me. While I dodged her sick ass, my mind went to her pops. That nigga was still going around barking, trying to make Sabrina leave me. I really wasn’t stressing none of it, but with this news of her being pregnant, I had a feeling his discontent was only going to worsen. It had me thinking about how fucked her father was and how good mine was.
That was when I decided since everything had changed now, since we both had created a new life, that I could give Sabrina the facts about who my family were and not some made-up bullshit that she heard through the grapevine.
Wrapping my arms around her, I let her lean against me while I kept her close to the trash can. “Listen, now that everything is getting better for us, I . . . Look, this has me thinking about some stuff that was said and that I just sat back and was quiet on. Remember when your dad went off and started talking about shit he don’t know? Shit Leo fed him about my family?”
Sabrina shifted against me, tilting her head to look up at me with an anxious look like what is this motherfucker about to say now type of look. “Yes, what about it?”
“I guess this is a good time for you to hear about my family. Leo don’t know shit about them but likes to think he does. My family wasn’t hood, and I didn’t grow up in the hood. They weren’t rich or nothing, but we weren’t in the dredges either. We all lived outside the hood. I could go a block over and be in the hood, but our neighborhood was cool. We were working middle class, one paycheck away from being poor. But yeah, I wasn’t some hood kid until I decided by myself that I wanted to be just to kick it.”
I felt tension in my spine, so I had to stop to get my racing thoughts in line before continuing, “My dad always told us, he kept us near the truth, that’s why we never moved to a 100 percent good area. Shit, we really couldn’t afford it anyway. My pops was a music teacher.”
A warm smile, something I rarely had unless Sabrina triggered it, crept across my face. “Funny enough, my mom was a civil rights attorney. If she knew about what I did, she’d be pissed at me. But yeah, that shit your pops thought he knew ain’t true. My parents worked hard to send me to GSU and to keep our single-family home put together. Shit, yeah, I ran the streets, but my family weren’t thugs; just me,” I explained, feeling all types of emotions as I spoke about my family. “They were good people, and our kid will have them in his or her blood.”
My hands rubbed together while I stared down at them in thought. I was reliving their death, the news of it, and it had me on edge feeling like I needed to go out and kill.... Until I felt Sabrina touch my shoulder.
“I don’t care how my daddy feels about where or how you grew up. I love you, and your family feels like they were good, caring people. My daddy can just keep on thinking you aren’t someone. It’s not his business; it’s ours,” she said resting her head on my shoulder. “Thank you for sharing this side of you with me and don’t forget that our child will have your strength in his or her blood.”
A smile played against the corner of my lips in a lopsided grin. “You’re welcome, and thank you, baby. I don’t care what he thinks about me, but I wanted to tell you for our kid’s sake because I have a legacy in a different way. Naw, it ain’t money. I mean, I was given something from their insurance, but I’ve never touched it, and I won’t. I just can’t, baby. But I’ll give it to our baby, that and this restaurant. That and giving our child nothing but love will be my legacy to our kid. I just wanted you to know. I’m feeling real good about this and us.”
“That’s all I wanted to know, baby, but now, I want you to keep telling me about your family so that you can remember them in love, and so our baby can know them,” she gently coaxed.
I wasn’t sure if I could, but I found out since being with Sabrina that whatever she wanted, I tried to give her in some small way, so for her, I’d do that as best as I could.
“Okay,” I said while wrapping my arm around her, then resting my other arm against her stomach, “Just don’t throw up on me. Oh, and keep your place and move in with me.”
If I hadn’t moved, I swear Sabrina would have head butted me. Baby girl jumped up and screamed so loud that it had me covering my ears.
“Really?” she asked in a shrilled voice.
“Yeah, really,” I said, laughing. “Move in with me, baby. I have too much room, and it’s safe, I promise.”
“You sure?” she anxiously asked this time.
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” I said getting a little serious with it.
“Humph, then, yeah, okay! Okay!” She got ready to kiss me when she covered her mouth with both hands and sharply turned to empty her gut.
“Uh-huh, all that bouncing got you fucked up,” I said feeling good as I rubbed her back.
Three months passed while our baby cooked. I had only her to share our good news, so the news ended up going to her mom and sisters. I knew that Sabrina’s father would get wind of it through the grapevine and now that she had a little bump showing, but neither of us gave a fuck. With the reality that we were going to be parents, building up the restaurant became my priority while my continued work as a hit man slowed down due to a lack of requests.
I stayed on as a hit man because I felt like the extra money would help our child in the future. Naw, I’m lying. I continued being a professional killer because I enjoyed it, and as I already admitted, it helped me cap the memories of my family. Which brings to me to when the major shift of me being my own man and handling my own contracts as a professional killer came to be. I remember standing outside in my overalls with workman gloves digging in the dirt, turning the deli into a real bistro. My work crew was cleaning up the outside and building up the front patio for people to sit and eat, and I was helping with that.
In my new restaurant, I knew that I was going to continue the tradition of Italian food but do a fusion of old classics being updated with the times in a modern, org
anic twist. The goal was to draw in these multicultural hipsters around the area to line my pocket. It already was creating a buzz, and I had a lot of food restaurant magazines coming in to talk to me about the place and me hiring young minority talent who were known for their innovative style. Straight up, I was excited. I didn’t think that I could pull it off, and if it weren’t for Sabrina helping me do my homework on what people want in the area and looking into what’s hot in the restaurant world, shit, I’d still be looking at an empty building.
But yeah, as I was digging in the dirt, planting trees for shading, I heard a sharp whistle, then my name being called out.
“Damn, Marcel, you changed everything,” I heard, which had me turning toward the familiar voice.
Keeping my expression calm, I gave a shrug, pulled off my gloves, then shook the outstretched hand that was suddenly in front of me. “It’s my place, so why wouldn’t I? What do you want, Leo?”
Leo gripped my hand hard, then dropped it back as he continued to look over the place. “Business. I’m in need of your help on something.”
“Oh yeah? What can I do for you, boss, since I’m your aide? Need me to read more emails and general mail? I mean, I could do that but might be a problem with me here and all,” I said sarcastically.
Boisterous laughter erupted from Leo. He clapped an arm over my shoulder, and it took everything in me not to growl.
“No, my man. You know that you’ve moved beyond that. You’re no junior aide, but no. What I came to speak to you about is that upgrade of yours. I need to know how you’ve been handling being my director. Any problems lately?” he asked walking with me into the restaurant. “Because I’m hearing that you’ve been ruffling the wrong feathers, mainly one feather. Still hearing the repercussion of that, and it’s been what, eight or so months now. It’s been bothering me.”
Sawing and hammering clamored around us. The scent of fresh paint had my nostrils twitching as I listened to this dude all up in my ear. There was no questioning what he was talking about because when he mentioned the time about ruffling feathers, I knew that meant only one thing. Sabrina’s father was still being a bitch, especially more so now that she was pregnant.