by Tiana Laveen
Nonna nodded as he helped her to her feet.
“Angelo…” His mother called out to him, her fingers grazing his arm. Ignoring her, he hooked his hand around his grandmother’s elbow and helped her to her feet.
“Come on, Andrea. I want you to ride in there, too. I’m sure Nonna wants ya there beside her. Isn’t that right, Nonna?”
Nonna nodded again.
“Okay,” Andrea replied.
“You’ll be with my Nonna, Marie, and my Aunt Joyce.”
“But this woman isn’t family,” the lady with the black hair declared as she pointed to her with a long red painted nail.
“Neither are you anymore. But look?” Angelo smirked. “You’re here anyway. Get out of my way.” He muscled past his mother, making her stumble back.
The coldness emanating from her soulmate tore her apart. Angelo didn’t simply hate his mother, as he’d already admitted to; it was an indescribable gut-wrenching, twisted emotion, something that didn’t even seem to be available in the English language. Abhorrence was an understatement. In fact, she was certain he wouldn’t shed one tear if she dropped dead right then and there.
Angelo led Nonna by the hand out of the funeral home, and Andrea held her other hand as they made their way out the front doors. After a few minutes, everyone was inside the limousine, and the rest of the guests in their respective cars, all lining up to head off to the cemetery. Andrea prepared to take her seat inside the luxury vehicle.
“Are you sure you want to ride alone, Angelo? I’m worried about you.”
“Yeah, baby. I’m fine. Ride with Nonna, and my aunts. I’ll drive ya back to her apartment afterwards though. I want to introduce ya to—”
“Angelo.” Both of them turned to see his mother, dabbing a tissue at her eyes.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” he barked as he zipped up his new black leather coat over his suit.
“Angelo, please! I know you’re angry about everything from the past, but I’m still your mother!”
“Don’t remind me.” He stuffed his hand in his pants pocket, rattling his car keys.
“How can you act so ugly at your cousin’s funeral? How can you be this way towards me after everything that’s happened?!”
“The same way you could be an evil, maniacal mother to your own damn children, every fuckin’ day of our lives, like clockwork. You never took vacations from being the worst you could be. Christmas, birthdays, Thanksgiving – usually ruined on account of you. You weren’t happy unless we were miserable. I told ya, if you want forgiveness, go to the priest. Don’t come to me. I’m not forgiving nor forgetting anything. I want nothin’ to do with ya. EVER.”
“Angelo, I love you. Can we just talk for a minute?” The woman was practically jumping out of her skin, desperation on her face.
“You don’t love me, and ya never did! You don’t even know what love is. There’s nothin’ to discuss, Anna. Ya didn’t give a shit about me when I was a kid, so there’s no need to care about me now. I don’t need ya anymore, and if Pops would have had any sense, he would’ve left you when he’d still had the chance, before you told your little boyfriend that he was coming there to confront him. It’s all your fault that when Dad arrived, he got blasted away by your boy toy’s pals, all because Pops wanted that man to leave his fuckin’ wife alone. You have no integrity. You’re a disgrace. Thank God your mother, my nonna, showed me how a real mother is supposed to act.”
“How dare you! Your father was no angel!”
Relatives began to gather around, encouraging the two to stop the public display of animosity.
“He damn sure wasn’t, and I never said he was. I had my beef with him, too, and you know it, but he was still miles ahead of you. I never felt like he hated me for even existing,” he hissed. “Don’t think that Luc’s death is going to make me more sympathetic or soft hearted towards ya. It doesn’t. In fact, all it did was remind me about how short life is. Ya think I want to waste any more of mine with the likes of you? We’re done.” He brought Andrea close and kissed her forehead.
“Get in the limo, baby. I’ll see you over there.”
Andrea gave a half nod as Angelo stormed off, keys jangling in his hand, leaving his mother standing there. A few relatives crowded around her, hugging her, giving comfort as she sobbed, her body wracked with what Andrea presumed was humiliation, more than guilt. When the crowd dispersed, his mother stayed put. They looked at one another for a long while, and despite the woman’s earlier disposition towards her, she still felt a bit sorry for her. She got in the limo and sat down, trying to push the altercation out of her mind. Nonna gave her a gentle nod, and she returned the gesture. The driver then closed the door behind her, and soon, they took off to the graveyard…
The sun was setting, and the taste of strong, vintage red wine lingered on his palette. He drew hard on his cigarette as he stood outside of Nonna’s apartment, occasionally glancing down at his watch. Angelo had stepped out for some fresh air. And for some alone time. His grandmother’s place was packed with family and friends, with barely any place left to stand. Food was piled up practically to the rafters, and music drifted from room to room, while laughing children ran about and old men smoked cigars and ogled women forty years their junior. Hopefully no blood relation.
He sucked his teeth when a couple cars moved down the street, packed with people checking him out. The entire damn town had to know today was Luciano’s funeral. Word on the street spread fast, and he was sure it was no secret that much of his family and close friends were out for blood. He’d worked hard to get the hounds off Fred. In his mind, Fred was an idiot. A lovable idiot, but an idiot all the same. Angelo had stood in Nonna’s home just moments earlier explaining to everyone the man hadn’t pulled the damn trigger, so they should leave him the hell alone. He’d also reminded them of the deeds Fred’s father had done for their family, the ultimate sacrifice made. He’d given his life – stepped in front of a bullet for their grandfather. So this was no way to treat his son.
Just then, he heard footsteps behind him and quickly spun around, his hand on his holster just in case.
When he realized who it was, he smiled.
Andrea was clad in a pretty pink coat, black turtleneck, and long skirt and boots. Around her neck was a ruby pendant. His attention drifted to her fingers, one of his favorite parts of her.
“Hi.” Her eyes were sorrowful, full of wisdom beyond her years. She took his hand and swung his arm. All he could do was look at her and smile back as his throat burned with words he refused to release into the cool air. “You don’t have to say anything. I just, uh… I just came out to check on you.”
“I’m okay.” He slipped his hand away from hers, then leaned in close and kissed her lips. A gust of cool air ruffled his long black coat, making it wave about like some doomsday flag.
“It’s rough. I know.”
He took another puff of his cigarette.
“You mentioned your aunt’s birthday party the other day. Does the invitation still stand?” he asked.
“Of course. The more the merrier,” she said softly. Patiently. Initially, he’d turned down her offer because too much had been going on. But now, he did something he rarely did. Changed his mind.
“I like what ya said in there about Fred,” She pointed to the apartment building. “You’re a good friend, Angelo.”
He sniffed, his gaze towards the street as he took another drag of his cigarette. They were quiet for a bit, but he was glad for her presence, even if he didn’t feel like saying it.
“I know you keep Fred around for more than the promise your father made to his. I know you do it because you care about him.”
He tossed her a brief glance while the rings of smoke drifted from his lips.
“He’s a decent human being. Not too many decent humans left in the world, Andrea.” He tapped the cigarette so ashes fell to the ground. Traffic passed by, life going on as usual. It continues. With or without us.
> “If it’s any consolation, he’s learned a valuable lesson. He feels indebted to you. I could feel his energy. He’ll go to the ends of the Earth to be to you what his father was to your father, and grandfather. You’ve saved his life more than once. He’s… he’s messed up over this. I believe he’s taken this very hard, Angelo.”
“I’m sure he has, Andrea. I’m sure he has.”
She began to pace, giving him room yet staying close enough for the wind to snatch her sweet, comforting scent and carry it to him.
“I’ve broken some of my father’s rules.”
“What do you mean?” She stopped pacing, and he felt her gaze bore through his back as he focused on his reflection in a parked car window. His hair mussed by the wind, his skin paler as his summer tan began to wane, his goatee and the breadth of his shoulders. They held the weight of the world. Then, he turned towards her.
“Some of the rules my father gave me for my survival, I’ve not been following them to the letter lately. They’ve kept me out of a lot of jams. My father was manipulative. Sly. Scary. But he was brilliant, too.”
“The rules… I remember you bringing that up before, but you didn’t go into much detail. Do you feel guilty about breakin’ some?”
“It wasn’t like I said, ‘I’m going to stop doing this,’ nothin’ like that. It just sort of happened. I didn’t have a choice but to break a few of ’em, because it became clear that some of the rules he made were for situations that didn’t match mine. Some, well, they didn’t apply to you. You’re in a category of your own. What do ya do when you can’t keep it all from your woman? Do you leave her? Of course not… I’m in love with someone who can see my past, present, and future. These rules don’t stick to you. I try to put them on ya, and they just fall to the ground.”
“I still don’t understand.”
He lessened the gap between them, took her hand.
“I’m never supposed to tell someone I’m dealin’ with, dating, about my business. I don’t tell ya about it. When I go to work, we don’t discuss it, but you know exactly what I do because of what you do, who you are. Look, baby.” He released her hand, took a deep breath, then ran his palm against his jaw, trying to find the right words. “It’s time for some shit to change. It’s time to tweak some of the rules. I was never scared of commitment. In fact, I’ve been committed in the past with no desire to stray. The problem was that sometimes I was afraid of hurtin’ the person I was committed to because this is who I am, and with that come the risks. But, I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep myself in a box. I want more. I deserve more. I don’t want a house, I want a home. And in that home, I want a wife, and kids. One of those is hopefully about to be taken care of, right now. Baby, I wanna marry you.”
Her eyes grew large and her lips curled at the ends.
“Marry me?”
“Yeah. I don’t know why you’re surprised.” He chuckled.
“I mean, I’m not per se. I’m just surprised to hear it right now.”
“Yeah… the timing is a little strange. This is the day of my cousin’s funeral, not exactly romantic I guess, but see, everything that’s happened has got me thinkin’, ya know? About life, love… all of that shit. How ya don’t get a lot of opportunities in this lifetime to meet a person you can trust. Someone to love, and that someone to love ya right back, the way you’re supposed to be loved. I get that from you. Guys like me don’t live to a ripe old age. We don’t have grandchildren to play board games with, and buy Christmas gifts for. Retirement funds, fiftieth wedding anniversaries, and bingo night at the cathedral don’t happen. So, when you told me I had a long life line, that started the wheels in my head, ya know? It made me start rethinking things after that reading. It made me reconsider because never before did I see the possibility of havin’ more than I have right now. I just lived. Tomorrow didn’t exist. Yesterday was forgotten. I didn’t make plans, except for when it came to my money. I assumed by forty, forty-five if I was lucky, I’d be outta here. That’s considered a long life for a guy like me. Even if you were wrong though, I had to question this whole notion I had. Wrong predictions don’t mean it’s not food for thought. You’re not God; only God is right all the time.” She smiled sadly. “When you said that, it gave me a little bit of… a little bit of…”
“Hope.”
He swallowed, then nodded. He tossed his cigarette to the ground and crushed it with his shoe. Then, he gently took hold of her chin, tipped it upward, and kissed her. They stood there holding one another. He deepened the kiss and tasted the minty sweetness of her mouth, wanting more, and more still. Everything about the woman stirred him. Made him pause and reflect. Made him love her even harder. Begrudgingly breaking their embrace, he slid his hand in his pocket and pulled out a blue velvet box. Her eyes sheened over before he even dropped down to one knee.
“Andrea Ellison, will you become Andrea Ferrari? Will you marry me, baby?”
As he looked up at her, his heart was beating the hell out of him. The rapid thumping played in his ears like a marching band, and that all-consuming ‘fool in love’ feeling pulled him under. She stared at the ring for a long time, smiling as tears trailed down her cheeks. He hated how vulnerable he felt, how in a split second, his world could be crushed by a single word. How he’d bought that ring five days prior, how he’d visited his father’s grave earlier that week and did more yelling and cursing than he probably had in his entire life at that bastard’s tomb. How he’d placed flowers at his grandfather’s grave on his way out. How he’d felt genuine sorrow for the first time in years. And how he’d had a nightmare about that demented, strange man pulling a gun on him at the age of fourteen, and subsequently had to shoot to kill, in order to survive… in order to protect his family… in order to live up to his name: Casper.
“Yes, I will marry you. I love you, Angelo! I couldn’t imagine spending my life with anyone else in this world other than you.”
He blinked, snatched out of his deliberations. His heart still going a mile a minute, he slid the big marquise diamond ring with bright side stones set in yellow gold down her finger. He got to his feet and enveloped her in his arms, squeezing her tight as she kissed his face and held him so close, there was no way he could ever feel alone again…
CHAPTER NINETEEN
There’s No Time Like the Present
Rule 19: In mixed company, always act and look your best. Be charismatic, be the guy you’d want to be friends with. Put your best foot forward.
The black T-top Pontiac Firebird sparkled and smelled brand new. Angelo took such good care of his car, Andrea was almost jealous. The amount of time and money he shelled out to keep her in pristine condition was obscene, but she damn sure enjoyed riding in it. She crossed her legs beneath her and looked out the window while twirling her crystal pendant between her thumb and forefinger. It was awfully cool outside, so much she’d decided to wear a thick gray and white striped sweater for her aunt’s birthday, paired with her favorite pair of bell-bottom jeans.
She snuck glances at her lover. A man she simply couldn’t get enough of. He smelled so damn good and looked good, too. In the last couple of weeks, they’d both been bombarded with hectic schedules. She’d picked up a few extra hours at work, and he’d been busy as well. Yet he’d promised he wasn’t going to miss Aunt Bev’s party, and tonight, he’d kept his word.
“Andrea, I know you hate me asking you this; you say I’m treating you like a child because I ask so often, like I don’t trust ya, but have you—”
“No, baby. I haven’t gotten any black roses, strange calls, or anything in a long time. I promised to tell you when I did.”
Her man had even installed special locks on her windows after she finally confessed that she suspected he’d gotten into her apartment somehow a long time ago. She’d called the police, but they didn’t seem terribly concerned. He then invited her to move in, but she liked her place and besides, they’d be sharing a home for the rest of their lives soon. So, Angelo
did the next best things: checked her gun, reinforced the locks on her front door, and put a phone in her bedroom. The man wasn’t playing around and she had to admit, he made her feel extra secure.
“I hope it’s finally over. It’s been a long time, now,” she added while they pulled up to a red light. The big man leaned back, cracked his window, and let the cigarette smoke out. He had on his black hat, the one she’d always associate with his abrupt visit at her job demanding a reading, and the night at Studio 54. Rubbing along his chiseled jaw, he wore a contemplative expression.
The son of a bitch looked good enough to eat with his burgundy silk shirt beneath a black and white jacket, and black pants. His natural scent aroused her, made her wish to press her face against his cock, then take the heavy schlong into her mouth. Her mouth watered. She could also smell his cologne, aftershave, and strong luxury cigars. Sensing her scrutiny, he removed his hat and tossed it in the back of the car where he’d laid his long black coat with fur trim.
“What are you looking at?” he asked in that deep, husky voice of his. The light turned green.
“You.”
“I know that. Why?” He kept his eye on the road.
“Because you’re sexy.”
“You think I’m sexy, huh?”
“Yup.” She giggled as she dug in her purse, pulled out a stick of gum, and popped it in her mouth.
“I think you’re sexy, too.”
“Why didn’t you fuck me this morning then?”
She was addicted to Angelo’s lovemaking. There was just no other way to explain it. She’d tried to play it down, convince herself otherwise, and allow him to be the aggressor, but those days were long gone. The charade was over. There were two nymphos in this relationship; she was no longer absolved of guilt. The dominating way he fucked her with his massive dick, made her long for him all the more. It was beyond sinful. The sensual way he kissed her would leave her pleasantly dazed and confused, and the dirty words he’d say while drilling her would send her over the edge, time and time again.