“She has always been good with numbers. We’ve got the kids. And we wanted to make sure that all our hard work didn’t go up in smoke.”
“So, this is a kind of modern arrangement.” Johnny was intrigued.
“We’re family, John,” Chi Chi said. “Family is forever.”
The audience cheered and applauded. Chi Chi had touched a nerve: people understood the message. She looked at her ex-husband, who wore the expression of a man who had been driving lost for hours and refused to stop and ask for directions. She reached over and took his hand.
“I’m all right,” he said. “I’m all right.”
* * *
A month after their appearance, Chi Chi opened a large envelope filled with fan letters addressed to “Tony & Chi Chi” in care of The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson. She dumped the contents on her dining room table when the phone rang.
“Are you Mrs. Armandando?” a voice asked.
“Armandonada. Yes, I am.”
“This is the emergency room at Saint Vincent’s Hospital in Greenwich Village.”
Chi Chi’s heart fluttered. “Is something wrong with Tony?”
“No, ma’am, it’s about your son, Leone.”
Chi Chi was so distraught, she grabbed her purse and keys and left her apartment on Gramercy Park without locking the doors. When she arrived at the hospital a few minutes later, she handed the cab driver a $50 bill and didn’t wait for the change. She pushed through the entrance doors and ran to the front desk.
“I was called about my son, Leone Armandonada.”
Chi Chi was escorted to a conference room on the second floor. A nun entered, escorted by a New York City policeman.
“What happened to my son?” Chi Chi cried.
The nun poured a glass of water for Chi Chi and guided her to sit at a table. The policeman sat across from her.
“Mrs. Arma, there’s construction on the West Side Highway. And there was an accident around West Fifty-Seventh and the underpass there. It was pretty bad. Our guys were on the way, and so was an ambulance. But your son, who was driving north, was turning off on the Fifty-Seventh Street exit, and he saw the accident and pulled over. He saw that there were people hurt, and he got out to help. He helped two of the passengers to safety. Had them climb up on some scaffolding to keep them out of harm’s way. He had gone back down to the street to help with the driver when your son was hit by another car. He died instantly.”
Chi Chi couldn’t breathe. The nun thanked the policeman and asked him to go.
When she regained her breath, Chi Chi said, “I want to see my son.”
She said it with such certainty that the nun didn’t argue. Instead she accompanied Chi Chi to the morgue in the basement of the hospital. When they arrived at the glass door into the morgue, Chi Chi stopped outside and stood against the wall, letting it hold her up. She began to weep and slid to the floor. The nun knelt next to her.
“You don’t have to see him,” she said quietly.
“No, I want to.” Chi Chi summoned her strength, and with the help of the nun, she stood up.
“He hasn’t been cleaned up yet, Mrs. Arma.”
“I understand,” Chi Chi said, pulling herself together.
Inside the morgue, all of the examining tables were empty, except for one. The nun summoned the attendant, who joined them. He carefully folded down the sheet so Chi Chi could see Leone. His face was covered in streaks of blood, but his teeth and nose were intact. He had a beatific expression on his face—it was strangely serene. He had died doing the right thing. He had died trying to save someone else.
“My boy,” she cried, and kissed his face as many times as she could, as much as they would allow. She took time to look at him, to study him, so she might remember every detail. He looked as he did when he emerged from her the day he was born, covered in the stuff of being born, which was the irony of it: Leone looked as though he had just arrived in the world. But as it was on that day, it was the same as this one: mother and son, alone together, just the two of them.
This was the child who had never been any trouble. He was a peacemaker. He might have wanted to learn to play the piano for his own reasons, but Chi Chi knew better. It was a way to be close to Saverio, to be a part of his father’s life, to stay close to his parents, first by learning how to play from her, and later, sitting through long hours of rehearsals as Tony sang the same songs over and over again, and his loyal son, without complaint, accompanied him. When the piano wasn’t enough to stay close, he picked up the strings, and so it went, until their son had a command of every instrument in the band.
Leone tried every day of his life to pull his family together. He instinctively knew that his mother and father should love each other, that family should stay connected, that they should shore one another up, never tear each other down, but pull together as one and thrive.
“It was an honor to be your mother,” Chi Chi whispered. She knelt next to her son’s body and made the sign of the cross, praying with everything within her that her father was there to hold her son on the other side. She did not have to ask God to take him in, because she understood that he had loaned this boy for a short time to help their family, their flawed and hurting family, find joy whenever it was possible and healing whenever it was necessary. He had done so much work in that regard in his short time on earth. He had made them laugh and helped them find the goodness in one another.
The nun placed her hand on Chi Chi’s shoulder.
“It’s time,” she said softly.
As Chi Chi left the room with the nun, she looked up at the clock. She had stayed with her son for close to three hours, and she would have stayed the rest of her life, had the nun allowed it.
* * *
The doorbell rang again. Chi Chi lay in bed, refusing to answer it. She had ignored the phone, the buzz of the intercom from the doorman, the annoying knocks at the door, and now the doorbell that sounded like the elevator chimes at Saks during the holiday rush. She feared the fire department would enter with an ax.
“Go away,” she shouted from her bed.
The ringing stopped.
Chi Chi sat up in bed. Her mother guilt kicked in. What if Rosie or Sunny needed her? What kind of a mother ignores the phone and the doorbell and knocking? She grabbed her robe from the end of the bed and answered the door.
“Oh my God. Jim?”
“I’m sorry, Chiara.”
“Was that you calling?”
“Yes. And knocking and buzzing. I was afraid something happened to you.”
Chi Chi looked at her old friend. “Well, Jim, something has. Would you like to come in?”
“Sure.”
Jim’s thick hair had gone white, but there were few signs of aging other than that.
“I look awful,” Chi Chi apologized.
“You look beautiful,” Jim corrected her.
“Jim, you’re a good man but a bad liar.”
Jim laughed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when Leone died.”
“I’m glad you weren’t. We had a small service and he was cremated. I have to take his ashes to Italy at some point, but I don’t know when. No rush.”
“No rush.”
“He left behind a list of things he wanted done. A will, I guess you would call it. And in six months”—Chi Chi put her head in her hands and wept—“In six months there will be a party in his honor at a restaurant. Can you imagine? He thought of that. And he had no idea he was going to die.”
“Maybe he did.”
“I wonder. You know, I knew. From the day he was born, I knew. Isn’t it strange? How that goes. You know everything when your children are born. You can see what they’ll become, though you will do everything in your power to change certain things, or think you can change the course of their lives by giving them piano lessons or making them take a summer job or forcing them to get a haircut. But none of that matters. They are on their own path and fate will play out the way it will and there is n
o mother love that can change it.”
“I wish it could.”
“He was such a fine young man.”
“He had to be. He was your son.”
“My only son.”
“You’ll see him again.”
“Do you think so?”
“I believe it.”
“I cry out for him. You know, when a child comes through you, he takes a little of your soul with him when he emerges out into the world. I think so anyhow. And I pray he finds me again. That he’ll know me. That I’ll get one more chance to hold him.”
Jim took Chi Chi into his arms.
“You will get the chance, I promise.”
“I’ve made so many mistakes, Jim.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I should’ve married you.”
“Well, I tried.”
“I know you did.”
“I’m seeing a lovely lady now. Elizabeth Finelli. You know her? She works at the bank in Sea Isle.”
“Yes. Nice woman.” Chi Chi smiled.
“Very nice.”
“Thank you for coming over.”
“I’m sorry I was so persistent, but I worry.”
“No, no, I’m glad you checked on me.”
Chi Chi walked Jim to the door. She reached up to kiss him on the cheek, but he took her hand and kissed it instead. She closed the door behind him and walked to the window. “Leone? This is your mother talking. I’m getting out of bed. It’s been six months, that’s three months shy of how long I carried you inside of me. But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live in the dark. Nobody is waiting around for me to be happy again. Nobody is waiting around for me to heal. But I am sick of myself. I have to do something with whatever time I have left. But I’m going to need your help.”
Chi Chi went into her bathroom. She turned on the lights and ran the water into the tub. She leaned into the mirror and looked at her face. “Chi Chi Donatelli. Today, we begin again.”
* * *
One year after Leone’s death, and per his handwritten instructions, Chi Chi and Tony hosted a luncheon in Greenwich Village in his favorite restaurant, the Pink Teacup. There wasn’t nearly enough room in the place for the crowd that attended, but it didn’t matter. The reception poured out into the street, and for a moment Manhattan became a small town like Sea Isle City celebrating the life of a young man who had good friends and a family who loved him.
Dora, dressed in an elegant black suit and hat, said goodbye to Lucille and Barbara before turning to her husband. “I’m going back to the apartment.”
Dora kissed Chi Chi. “I’m so sorry, Chiara. He was a wonderful son. I miss him.”
“Thank you, Dora. You were a lovely stepmother to him.”
Tony went outside and helped Dora into a cab.
From the restaurant’s doorway, Barbara looked at Lucille. “What’s going on there?”
“I think his third wife is getting rid of him,” Lucille whispered.
“Not another one,” Barbara said. “How can you tell?”
Lucille pointed in the direction of the table by the door with her head.
“Yeah, so?”
“He’s taken up with his masseuse.”
“Are you serious?”
“That’s her. Over there. In the white skirt.”
Barbara looked at the birdlike woman in her early sixties. She had large blue eyes, thin blond hair, and wore wire-framed glasses.
“That is not his type.”
“Barb, at a certain point, you take whoever will take you.”
“I guess.”
“What are you talking about?” Chi Chi joined them.
“Tony, who else?”
“He’s with the masseuse,” Chi Chi confirmed.
“What an idiot.” Barbara shook her head.
Tony joined them inside. “This was beautiful,” he said to them. “He was a special kid.”
“He must’ve known he wasn’t going to grow old,” Lucille said.
“Did he say something to you?” Tony asked.
“Who plans their memorial service when they’re not yet thirty? And how did he know to wait to have the service one year after his passing? He said after a year his mother wouldn’t cry through it. And you didn’t.”
“Not all the way through.” Chi Chi smiled. “But I’ll always cry for Leone.”
Barbara nodded. “We will too, sis.”
* * *
“You want to come upstairs, Sav?” Chi Chi asked. “I won’t be good company.”
“Hey, we’re all we got.” Tony put his arms around her. “We’re the only two people in this world who knew our son the way we did and let’s face it, we loved him the most.”
“Leone worried about you. I tried to assuage him on that front.”
“And I thought I’d find the place where I fit. Where I’d open the door and I’d say, ‘Ah, okay, I’m complete, fulfilled, and what’s inside is enough.’”
“And it wasn’t?”
“For a time. And then whatever it is that makes me tick, stops. And I have to go. For reasons I don’t understand. Never will, I guess.”
Chi Chi and Tony got off the elevator. Chi Chi unlocked the door to her apartment and invited Tony inside.
“Are you going to divorce Dora?”
“She wants out.”
“Because you’re with your masseuse.”
“That’s just a sidebar, kid.”
“No, Sav, it’s not a sidebar, it’s a barbell that you dropped on Dora. You cheated on her and she caught you, and for whatever reason, she is kicking you out the door this time.”
“I feel terrible about it.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah.”
“I can’t fix everything for you, Saverio.”
“You always did.”
“Not this time. Your marriage is your problem.”
“You saved me plenty.”
“Not really. I only helped save one life. And that was many years ago.” She sat on the sofa. “You know, I dream about the boy sometimes. I see him in the water. And last night I had the dream again. I’m back on Sea Isle Beach. I swim out. I’m twenty years old. I move like a marlin, and when I get there in the dream, when I reach the raft, it’s always the boy I saved. But last night, I got to the body and it was our Leone. And I couldn’t save him.”
“I want to come home,” Tony said.
“You have a home with Dora.”
“It’s not working. I want to come home and put our family back together again. I have it in me, Cheech. I know it.”
“By the time we get you unpacked and I put on the coffee, you’ll be agitated and want out.”
“I’m different. I’m older now.”
“Age doesn’t make us wiser, it just makes us older. I’m tired. And it would just figure, after all we’ve been through, that we’d lose our son.”
“What do you mean?”
“I am being punished for my ambivalence. I had other dreams. I didn’t want to be a mother at first. Remember?”
“But that changed. You love the kids.”
“Oh, I’d die for them. And I was a good mother because I had a good mother. But I knew somewhere down the line, I’d pay for my ambition. And here it is. The marker is paid in full. I hope whoever stands to gain from this is satisfied.”
“It was an accident, Cheech. What happened to our son was an accident.”
“No such thing.”
“You think this was all destined to happen? Losing our son?”
“From the day he was born.”
“I can’t believe what you’re saying.”
“You’re floundering, Saverio. You like to think you control things, but even when your hand is on the wheel, you’re not in control.”
“I don’t want to be apart anymore,” Tony said. “We made him together. I remember the night we made him, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do. But we don’t know how to be happy together. We cling to each othe
r in grief, and that’s love to you?”
“It’s part of it. But we were happy together too.”
“Sometimes.” Chi Chi looked away. “But it always comes down to the same thing. You think you want me, us, all of us, but you don’t want the life. If you did, if you ever had, you would have never let us go. You never made the big decision.”
“To be home?”
“You never decided what was sacred to you. And when you don’t decide, in the end, nothing is.”
He put his hands in his pockets. He was Tony now, and had been for so many years, but whenever he was with Chi Chi, the tuxedo fell away, the orchestra disappeared, the lights faded to black, the microphone went silent, and he was just Saverio, the kid he was the day she met him.
Everything that came after Chiara Donatelli was to push her away. He didn’t want to love her too much, because he believed he was, deep down, no damn good.
“Are you headed back to Vegas?”
“I have a booking.” Tony nodded. “I thank God for it. It keeps me sane.”
“You love to sing, nothing wrong with that.”
“Do you think I can make it right with Dora?”
“Sure.”
“She loves me.”
“We all love you, Sav.”
“I know.”
“Go back to the apartment tonight and tell her you’ve been an old fool and you want another chance. She’s an Italian girl. We’ve been dealing with this nonsense since Hannibal’s Army came over the Alps. She’ll be all right.”
“She’ll stay?”
“Who can resist you?”
Tony laughed. “You always say the right thing.”
* * *
Tony fumbled with his hotel room key.
“Gimme that. You’re nervous!” the woman whispered. She took the key, unlocked the door, and went inside his room. Tony followed her.
The suite was Vegas chic. It was decorated in dark blue and cranberry, with a California king-sized bed facing floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the strip. The woman yanked the drapery cords to reveal the flashing neon below.
“How much time do you have?” Tony asked as he turned on the lights, lowering the dimmer.
“The bus leaves in two hours,” Cheryl said. She went to Tony and put her arms around him. “I was going to play blackjack after the show, but this is better.” She fiddled with his bow tie but could not loosen it. He helped her.
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