“Uncle Sebby!” One, about ten jumps into his arms and he laughs for the first time today.
“Boys!” A female likeness of Sebastian gives him a tight smile as she enters the room. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
He shrugs. “Sue said Father wanted to see me.”
“I never said any such thing.” His father juts out his chin as if daring anyone to argue.
Wow. Talk about not pulling punches. Considering we flew all the way to North Carolina to see him, he could be a whole lot nicer.
Suds grabs his coat and nods at his small family. “Well, if y’all feel that way, think I’ll be goin’. Glad you’re feeling better, Dad.”
His sister taps him on the shoulder. “At least stay for dinner.”
“Nah, me and Sam will grab something at the motel, but thanks.”
“Don’t be silly, of course we’ll come.” I hold out my hand. “I’m Sam, Sebastian’s partner and fiancé.”
“Stephanie. I’m Sebastian’s older sister. I practically raised him until Dad married Sue-Ann.” Her grip is colder than her smile and the oiliness of her tone makes me want to wipe my hand on my jeans.
“Nice to meet you.”
Suds fumes, smoke practically coming out his ears, but family is family. He hasn’t been to visit them since we started dating. In fact, he’s hardly mentioned them more than a handful of times. Maybe, as an outsider, I can help reconcile them.
A nurse enters and waves us out the door. “I need a few minutes with our patient here and a couple of you need to go. Hospital rules, you understand. Thank you.”
I look to Suds’ sister to volunteer to bring the boys back downstairs. They’ve jumped on the bed, pressed the call button, and are now in the bathroom, laughing hysterically.
Sebastian tilts his head, grabs my hand, and makes a break for the door. “Best we be getting’ along. Nice to see y’all.”
“Dinner, Sebs. You do remember how to get there?” His sister grips his bicep and pleads with her eyes.
Two wet boys, grab his arms and pull. “Please, Uncle Sebby, Pleeaaaazzzzze.”
He kneels down and gives them both a hug. “If you promise to sit down on the bed, fold your hands, and behave until your momma is done visitin’ with Grandpa.”
“Scout’s honor.” The oldest holds up two fingers and the younger follows suit.
“Good. C’mon Sam. Time to go.” Back in the car he closes his eyes with his forehead on the wheel, then turns to me. “Why in God’s name would you agree to have a meal with those people?”
“They’re the only family you got.” For the second time today, I feel unfairly accused.
“Don’t remind me.” He sighs. “I need a little shuteye before dealing with them. If it’s alright with you, let’s check into the motel.”
Chapter 22
Suds
After a little sleep, I’m almost human when I ring the doorbell of my sister’s Victorian home. Sam has no idea what she’s up against this evening and I should warn her but it was her big mouth that got us into this. Perhaps she can find us a way out.
My sister’s husband, Reginald, a bald man in his thirties, greets us at the door. “Come on in. You must be Samantha. How nice to meet you. Can I get you a pop or a club soda?”
“No thank you.” While Sam and I remove our coats, my sister comes into the living room and attempts to take our wraps hostage.
“I got this.” I hang our jackets in plain sight, near the door.
When Sam’s brows skew in a question mark, careful not to be overheard, I whisper, “Hang onto your purse.”
No time for explanations, we’re ushered into the kitchen where fine southern cooking fills the air.
“Why don’t we hold hands and say grace?” My sister holds up her palms and her boys, sitting on either side, take one.
Wait for it...
Sam glances at me as she sits and takes my outstretched fingers. Don’t look at me, sugar. You’re the one who agreed to have dinner with these folks.
“Dear Lord, bless our meal and help us to spread your word to these, your poor sinners, Amen.”
Hmm, far too short. What are they up to?
Sam doesn’t understand she was insulted but she will, soon enough.
Hoping we get a bite to eat before we have to go, I pile Sam’s plate with shredded barbecued pork, sweet potatoes, and greens, then help myself. I’m feeling a mite bit guilty for not giving her some heads up so drop my fork and indicate we should meet under the table.
“Eat fast, smile, and agree to nothin’.”
“What-“
“Shush.”
Sitting back up, I shovel in food because I’m pretty damn sure the shit is about to hit the fan.
My dad clears his throat and when Sam looks to him, he asks. “Have you accepted Christ as your savior?”
Now, down south, where I grew up, this is a perfectly acceptable question, but seeing how she’s from Brooklyn, asking about religion is considered very personal and ain’t asked in front of folks you just met.
Her face flushes as she grabs a glass of water, taking the time to recover. She shoots me a look that could kill, but hell, I wasn’t the one who agreed to this shit show.
Sam’s syrupy sweet tone matches her smile. “How nice of you to inquire but what goes on between me and God is private. You can be assured I’m in His good hands.”
A coiled cobra snake, my sister’s eyes narrow and I brace for her bite. Under the table, I put my hand on Sam’s knee and squeeze, feeling bad I let things get this far. No doubt, if I wasn’t so angry at her about the damn classes, I wouldn’t’ve put her in this awkward position.
Shit, sometimes I can be a real bastard.
“Drop it.” I point my fork at my sister.
“Sebbie, we’re concerned, what with you livin’ in sin. We only want what’s best.”
“What’s best is for y’all to stay out of our business.” My fists clench and it’s only because my dad’s newly out of the hospital, I don’t say more.
I don’t want him getting all riled up but it’s too late. His face turns bright red and eyes burn crazy-like.
“I didn’t raise you to live with a woman in sin.”
“No, Dad, you didn’t.” I leave out the part how he didn’t raise me at all.
While he was saving our country, I was brought up by my sister. My real mom thought partying was more important than lunch money.
God, if you got any mercy at all, you need to end this dreadful meal before it gets worse.
Samantha delicately wipes the edges of her mouth with a napkin and as she reaches for seconds, her elbow knocks my water glass over. Delicate stemware crashes to the wood floor, splintering in pieces.
“Oh dear, I am so sorry.” She squats to pick up the pieces and I join her.
“Nice move.” I mutter while picking at the shards.
My sister jumps up with her mouth open, walks around the table, and stares at the wreckage. “Those were my granny’s best stemware.”
“I promise, to replace it. I’m not usually so clumsy.” Sam sounds sincere enough to win an Oscar.
“They’re antique. You won’t be able to but thank you for the offer. Here.” My sister reaches into a closet, then hands me a brush and dust bin.
My crotch took the brunt of the spill which I intend to use as an escape clause but before I can dump the broken glass, my father’s wife starts up again.
“I expect y’all to come to church tonight and meet with Pastor Ernest. He can help arrange for a proper wedding.”
“We are getting married in the church.” Sam’s tone holds an edge of irritation and my dad picks up on it.
Deathly pale and gray, he stands. “You’re Catholic, right? I heard you two claimed to find some miracle last Christ-”
“What of it?” I knew this would happen and yet couldn’t prevent it. I never should’ve let Sam visit with me.
“Thou shalt not put false Gods before me!” His fist
pounds on the table, my two nephews’ eyes go wide, and another glass topples.
Stephanie pleads with her eyes. “Please, Sebbie. Don’t upset him. Just agree to meet with our pastor.”
Sam waits for me to decide. She’s no doubt thinking, what’s the big deal?
At the head of the table, my father wobbles, then sits.
Why can’t we simply share a meal like any normal family?
“How about we all finish our meal with no more talk of religion?” Glaring, I dare anyone to argue and as we manage to have a few civil moments of regular talk, my mind wanders.
Before he remarried, Dad wasn’t a fanatic. I think my real mom fucking every male within forty miles, broke him.
Lost in the past, I almost miss the conversation getting personal again.
“So, you both own a detective agency.” Sue folds her hands in her laps and Sam smiles brightly.
“Yes. It’s doing really well. Pretty soon, we can hire on more people and maybe open a branch in the city.”
“I assume, then you’ll stop working?” Sue stands. “Excuse me while I get our dessert.”
Sam scoops up empty plates and follows her into the kitchen. “Huh? No. Why? I don’t plan on it.”
Standing, I balance more plates on my arms and place them in the sink.
Hands on her hips, Stephanie glowers at my fiancé. “Well, how y’all goin’ to take care of your children?”
Bless her heart, Sam ignores the accusatory tone and shrugs. “I guess the way everyone does. We’ll work from home, hire sitters, and maybe some daycare. We’ll get by.”
“Get by? Really?” Sue enters the kitchen, harrumphs, and lifts the key lime pie off the counter.
Now, as much as I’d like a piece, the gauntlet has been thrown and before Sam picks it up, we need to go.
I make a big deal yawning and stretching. “Excuse me. We were up all last night. I need to take my woman home to bed. And thanks for the offer of meeting your pastor but we’re going to pass on that, as well. Sam here is deathly afraid of snakes.”
While Sam’s mouth drops open, I put an arm around her waist and lead her to the living room door. I got a lot more to say but it’s like throwing rocks at a hornet’s nest. Nothing gets accomplished and you piss them bees off somethin’ fierce.
“We got an early flight in the morning. Bye now.” Heaving a deep sigh, we drive away in the rental car.
When there’s distance between us and my family, she asks, “Snakes?”
“It’s part of their worship ceremony and, to be fair, it isn’t everyone who participates. Most folks stay back.” I park the car in front of the motel, run around to the passenger side, and when I open her door, she kisses me.
“I assume all the snakes are trained not to bite those who might object to being judged by a reptile.”
“Correct.”
“Tough guy?” She hugs me tight around the waist and I can’t breathe because all these emotions are stirring around in my head. Despite my family, she still loves me.
“Mmm?” My mouth finds hers and we kiss for the longest time.
Then, her dark eyes meet mine. “I am so sorry about everything. Let’s never fight again.”
“Well, I’m not sure...” I kiss away a little tear that decided to cut loose from a pretty lash.
“Why not?”
“Why, make up sex, sugar.” Taking her hand, I lead her to our motel room.
Chapter 23
Sam
When we arrive back home in Brooklyn, our front entrance is more parallelogram than rectangle. My heart sinks because I imagine our apartment is uninhabitable.
Suds turns his key in the lock but the door won’t budge so he bangs his shoulder into the wood until it does. Dreading what we’ll find, I climb the stairs behind him.
“Meeew!” Catrina jumps on the countertop, presses her nose to mine, and purrs.
While I feed her, Suds walks the perimeter of our space. A layer of plaster dust covers our planked flooring and giant cracks zig-zag across our walls.
“Well, don’t that suck wind?” Suds grabs a beer and sinks into the couch, staring at the dangling spiral steps unbolted at the top. I wouldn’t dare to climb, not even with a net.
Grabbing a bottle of my own, I sit beside him, tears welling until something inside of me snaps. “Fuck this shit. We need to fight back.”
“What do you have in mind?” One side of his mouth goes up as we clink our bottles.
“Uncle Vinny is going to make this right or we’ll make his life a living hell.” I open my laptop so Suds can see. “First, we’ll send a dinner invite to Father O’Connell, making it look like it came from him. In it, he’ll make a generous donation to the church. I’ll CC all the women from the hair parlor as well.”
Suds sips his beer, then nods, deep in thought. “You think it’ll be enough?”
“No, you’re right. How about I mention his taxes?” I glance up when he doesn’t respond right away.
He sits next to me, patting the cat with his dark brows raised. “I’m not following you.”
“Right. I guess I never told you. While investigating Luigi, I came across a few spreadsheets belonging to my dear Uncle Vinny. Our dead accountant was cooking his books, as well as Gallo’s. I could mention I have them and ask if he wants them back.”
“You sure about this?” Suds frowns. “Sounds an awful lot like what got Luigi killed.”
“It’s different. Vinny is family. Believe me, it’ll work. What time is it? We need to call Rose and Mia… and Joey. We’re going to need a place to stay for a few-”
“Nope. No way.” Suds juts out his chin, crosses his arms, and scowls.
“Why not?” It’s not like we’re moving there, permanently.
He holds an index finger in the air. “First off, the bed bangs against the wall when we fuck.”
A middle digit joins the other. “Secondly, your uncle will go back to insisting you date his cronies. Third? I don’t want to. I’ll take the floor, you can have the couch.”
“But all our bedding is upstairs.” I push on the wobbly staircase.
Suds leaps, grabs hold of the edge of the loft floor, and like a gymnast he swings until he has the momentum to take hold of the railing. Hand over hand he makes his way to the top then vaults over. A few minutes later, blanket and pillows rain down on me.
“Stay clear.” He picks up the futon, folds it in half, then slides it down and far as it can go before letting go. “Anything else?”
“Clean clothes but I suppose we can retrieve those in the morning.” I move our mattress, make the bed and settle in.
Exhausted, we settle under the covers and I spoon into him.
He sighs. “Maybe we should move far, far, away from the city. Start over someplace else.”
“Where to?” I’m guessing he’ll say Hawaii or the Virgin Islands.
“Anywhere but near your relatives.”
Wow. I thought he was kidding but his tone sounds fed up. “Okay, how about we discuss it after the wedding.”
“How about you tell me what it’s going to cost?” His tone sounds like I’m in for another fight.
“My parents will pay for half, I’m sure and people will give money for gifts.” I scoot out from under him and turn so I can see his face.
I was right, he’s angry again. “The bottom line?”
This is so unfair. I’ve wanted to talk to him for weeks but now he brings it up when we haven’t slept well and are dealing with the aftermath of his parents.
As best as I can, I tick off the expenses so he’ll better understand the cost. “Well, there’s the gown, the dinner the night before, cake, flowers, photographers… Of course there’s the organist, someone to sing at the church, and a DJ for the wedding. The reception.”
“Sam? How much?”
I know it’s stupid, selfish, and costly but every girl wants to be a princess, if only for a day. Damn. He’ll never understand.
“Our half w
ill come to about twenty big ones.” I wait for the volcanic eruption and he doesn’t disappoint.
His eyes almost pop out of his head. “Are you fucking serious?”
“People give money, sweetie. If we invite two hundred and they all gift-”
“Two hundred people? Are y’all kidding me?”
“We can shave it back a little but I have a huge family on both my mom and my dad’s side.”
He shakes his head back and forth. “No way. We could put a down payment on a house, have an incredible honeymoon someplace tropical...”
I touch his arm with a palm to his cheek. “Honey, my parents have been saving up since I was born. To them, this is more important than my college degree.”
“That’s fucked up. They should use the money for their retirement.”
I sit up, my heart racing. “What do you have against weddings?”
“Nothing. I think they should be a little more private… intimate.”
“My family doesn’t do small.” Why is he being so unreasonable?
“What about what I want? Maybe I don’t want everyone, including us, going into debt for a huge fucking party and maybe I don’t want a weekend with a bunch of holy rollers.”
“Maybe you don’t want to get married at all.” I stand, fists clenched, my heart breaking open and bleeding out galleons of hurt.
“Maybe I don’t.” He steps on my puddle of emotions, grabs his coat, and storms out of the apartment.
Chapter 24
Suds
Perhaps, joining our gene pools is a bad idea. Half mob, half cop, her family’s dysfunctional while mine’s batshit crazy. What if she’s like my mom or worse, my stepmom? One walked away and the other I prayed would do the same.
Both Lucky and Slate said marriages should involve compromises. Well, two hundred fucking strangers is not my idea of the perfect wedding. What if I want to be hitched in a small country church with the smell of wildflowers blowing through the back door? She’ll be barefoot in a pretty white cotton dress. We’ll have a few close friends gather around while we say our vows.
The Dead Gigolo Caper (Suds and Sam Book 4) Page 13